NovelAmazoneChapter 1003
Blake's online antics had becthe talk of the town. Her behavior this twas beyond the pale. As fellow
members of Maple Grove University, couldn't they have sorted things out face-to-face instead of dragging it
online and nearly damaging the university's reputation? Later that evening, Flora and Connor returned from a
shopping spree to the cozy Irving household. Henrik was lounging on the couch in the living room. As they
walked in, he greeted them with a warm smile, "Back already?"
With her cheeks flaming with embarrassment and anger, Blake stormed off. The thought of having to apologize
to Flora only fueled her frustration.
"It's chilly out there. How about shot tea to warm you up?" he offered, rising to pour Flora a steaming cup.
Since the Twitter had blown over, Henrik had kept his distance, assuming Flora had no interest in seeing
him while she was out with Connor. He had hoped to take Cecelia out for sfresh air, but she wasn't in the
mood.
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Flora shrugged off her coat, gratefully accepting the tea and taking a long sip. Henrik playfully tousled her hair.
"It's getting late. Try to get srest. | got you a cake for tomorrow."
"Thanks," Flora nodded, her eyes flickering over to the laptop on the small table, where "Night of Destiny"
fashion show was prominently displayed. She squinted thoughtfully.
Back in her room after a refreshing bath, Flora connected her phone to the Wi-Fi and noticed a message from
Jules.
The message cwith a pitiful image of someone holding an empty bowl. Flora blinked at the screen, utterly
bewildered. A billion, gone in under a week? Was he doing skind of high-stakes research or just throwing
cash out the window?
Jules: Hehe... Flora, the billion you gavejust vanished! Need a little more help here.
In the quiet, cold night, Cecelia awoke from a nightmare, drenched in sweat. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and
the fear from her dream still lingered in her eyes. She'd dreamt again of that awful, stomach-turning night.
Automatically, she checked her phone. It was 2 a.m.
She read a message from Henrik, saying he'd pick her up tomorrow to go to the theater. Massaging her temples,
tears threatened to spill as she felt a wave of vulnerability wash over her. In the darkness of night, she wasn't
the strong, cheerful person she appeared to be during the day; she felt fragile. She didn't believe she deserved
Henrik's kindness. Closing her eyes, she buried her face in her knees, quietly sobbing. Her phone buzzed again
with a new message.
[Hey, brat, got the 2 million ready? Miss a single dime, and you'll be sorry.]
As soon as Flora's identity hit the net, she beca sensation all over again. Even international medical
research institutes were eager to reach out to her. But unable to contact Flora directly, they bombarded Mr.
Richard with calls, leaving him overwhelmed and on edge daily. He was constantly worried someone might
sweep Flora, his prized treasure, away.
After a couple of days of downtat home, Howell shot her a text.
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Howell: Hey Boss, today's the big recruitment day at the design institute. Are you dropping by?
Remembering Henrik's mention of the "Night of Destiny" fashion show, Flora thought it over before replying:
What tdoes it start?
Howell: It kicks off at 2 p.m.
Flora: Alright, I'll be there.
Realizing she was technically the head honcho of Rose's Stuand had hardly set foot there, she figured it was
high tfor a visit. She quickly got ready and headed over.
en
At Rose's Studio, Howell nearly leaped out of his chair with excitement when he saw Flora's reply. Behind his
gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes sparkled with delight. He knew Flora had a laid-back approach and rarely visited
Club 257's headquarters. Sending her that message was a shot in the dark, and to his surprise, she agreed to
come! This unexpected turn of events had Howell grinning from ear to ear.
"Why the big smile?" someone asked, noticing his elation.
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