Chapter 6 They say you're cold and hard as stone

"You're not human." Delphine gritted her teeth, both angry and furious, her whole body trembling.

"A wolf in sheep's clothing—didn't you know that already?" Ignatius Leclair sneered, touching her pretty little face. Seeing her lips as pink and delicate as petals, his gaze darkened, and he moved his eyes away with restraint.

"Butler Lee, prepare the room for Miss Delphine. She will be moving in tomorrow," Ignatius instructed the butler who had just entered, then turned around and left with elegant dignity.

Delphine rushed out of the Leclair Residence, slamming the iron gate with a loud bang. Her breathing was somewhat labored as she touched her backpack, finally dumping everything out with trembling hands, feeling around for the metal box on the ground.

She lit a cigarette, took a puff, and only then slowly regained her breath. Over the years, her heart had long turned to stone, yet in the face of Ignatius, it still ached, enough to make black blood pour out. She was indeed a colossal joke, Delphine chuckled softly, laughing so hard that tears streamed down her face.

She stood up, facing the bright headlights of a jeep, followed by a screeching halt and a man's low curse: "Damn."

Yeats Howard had just noticed someone in the middle of the road as he made a turn, both sides lined with phoenix trees with lush branches entwined, obscuring the streetlights.

The car had good performance and speed; with cold sweat, Yeats jumped out of the car, his heart pounding with fear, and saw Delphine Carter sitting on the ground, a thin, long lady's cigarette between two beautiful fingers, her hair black and curly like seaweed, her expression indifferent and vacant, and scattered things littered the ground.

Were it not for the dim flickering of the cigarette's glow, Yeats almost thought he had hit a beautiful ghost.

"Miss, are you okay?"

Delphine looked up, glanced past his unlicensed Hummer, her gaze slid up from the man's black army boots to his strong, handsome face. She stubbed out her cigarette, then reached out a hand, expressionless, and said, "You hit me, medical expenses and emotional damages total 50,000."

Yeats was thunderstruck, froze for a few seconds, then sized up Delphine with an evil grin: "I'll give you 500,000 a month if you come with me."

Delphine snorted coldly, haphazardly stuffed the scattered items back into her bag, stood up and limped away without looking back.

"Hey, are you really not going to reconsider? I'll give you 800,000 a month," Yeats called out, increasingly carefree and intrigued. Seeing Delphine walking far away, he reluctantly withdrew his gaze, lamenting over a rare beauty with such a unique character.

Yeats parked the Hummer on the side and then excitedly called Ignatius Leclair: "Uncle, open the door quickly, I personally brought you a 1975 Massandra Sherry."

Ignatius hung up the phone without a word. Five minutes later, wearing wooden slippers and a bathrobe, he opened the iron gate. Perhaps he had just finished showering, his hair was scattered loosely, his handsome face appeared much softer, lacking its usual harshness.

Ignatius glanced at the deserted road, his eyes deep, then disdainfully addressed Yeats, who was pretending to be attentive with ulterior motives: "Leave the wine, and you can get lost."

Yeats chuckled and quickly slipped into the Leclair Residence, saying, "Uncle, I'm staying at your place tonight. By the way, I just picked up a Hummer using your name. The old man froze my card, so I need your bailout."

Ignatius's face darkened instantly, looking at the black Hummer precariously parked under the phoenix tree, wanting to teach this reckless brat from the Howard Family a lesson, but unable to muster any interest. This night couldn't get any worse; after all, Delphine Carter had returned.

Ignatius pressed his long fingers against his brow. Five years, and at last, she finally returned.