From Nun to Real Heiress: Expert at Turning the Tables-Chapter 850 - 420 Think Thrice_2
Chapter 850: 420 Think Thrice_2
She attempted to challenge an impeccably saintly figure; if the world were ignorant, she would have obscured the truth and continued to falsely maintain peace.
Unfortunately, even the universe couldn’t bear to witness such deception, allowing others to see this, and through modern live broadcasting, the nation watched as her carefree days came to an end.
From ancient times, public opinion has been a lethal weapon. In this internet age, the power of public opinion, exchanged across network wires, is amplified to an extreme.
Rather than saying she challenged Aubree Groove, it would be apt to say she challenged the limits of the entire nation’s patience.
How could she possibly stand a ray of victory?
In this round, Virginia Frost lost, losing outright in defeat.
...
In a disheveled state, she got into the car, heading towards the airport, then flew to Lostswa via a private jet.
At three twenty in the morning, she left the land of Pethkids.
The night of Pethkids was cloaked in utter darkness with only the occasional flicker of distant lights, mere stars in the night sky.
Virginia Frost looked out into the pitch black darkness, her hands clenched into fists.
A glass of water was placed before her; a shadow fell across her line of sight. Virginia Frost looked up.
“Madon Linggo, I didn’t know you were working for Mr. Lewis. Does Cello Cook know?”
Madon Linggo raised an eyebrow, “Madam, with this idle curiosity of yours, you should ponder more about what to tell Mr. Lewis.”
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Virginia Frost toucher her temple; her hair was a mess, yet this in no way dimished her grace.
“Explain? When have I, Virginia Frost, ever needed to explain my actions?”
Madon Linggo laughed softly, a laugh that seemed mocking in her view.
The plane was smoothly soaring through the clouds. Virginia Frost clenched her fist again, “My son…”.
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Madon Linggo spoke indifferently, “Ms. Rinto saved Young Master Drake.”
Virginia Frost breathed a sigh of relief; her face twitched, seeming to lose some color.
A sneer flashed in Madon Linggo’s eyes.
——
Aubree Groove woke up after a long sleep, the first words out of her mouth were, “How is Nicholas Drake?”
Dallyn, who had been playing games on her phone, immediately ran over, “Mistress, you finally woke up! I’ll call Dr. Aria right away.”
Aubree Groove stopped her and asked again, “But how is Nicholas Drake?”
Dallyn hurriedly replied, “Young Master Drake is fine. He’s in the neighboring room getting an IV drip. If it were not for your timely aid, Mistress, things could have gotten pretty bad. His mother, treating you that way…Why did you save him? You’re just too kind.”
Nicholas Drake had been in a critical condition the night before, barely managing to cling to life. However, Dallyn harbored no good intentions for the son of the woman who disrupted the harmony of the Rintos’ household and the life of their Mistress.
Hearing the Mistress ask about him as soon as she woke up was kind of hard to swallow.
Aubree Groove’s face relaxed, “That’s a relief.”
Upon hearing the news, Peter Aria walked in, personally checking Aubree Groove’s blood pressure and temperature. Typically, such menial tasks were reserved for the duty nurse, however, Peter Aria’s personal attention was sure to leave the ones who knew him in shock.
Peter Aria placed the blood pressure monitor down, “You should eat first. I’ve ordered breakfast from the Oncoe Building. After breakfast, we’ll go for an examination. I’ve already booked the appointment for you.”
Just as he finished speaking, the door to her room was knocked on. Peter Aria calmly said, “Enter.”
Brixton Alvarez walked in, two insulated containers in hand. Seeing Aubree Groove, he greeted her warmly, “Aubree, feeling better today?”
Aubree Groove nodded, “Dr. Alvarez, thank you for your efforts.”
“I’ve got bird’s nest mixed congee from the Oncoe Building. I lined up at five in the morning to get this. If you really want to thank me, recover sooner and treat me to a meal. I want the Nine Sets Meal from the Oncoe Building.”
He had heard that Digby Hart was the mastermind behind the Oncoe Building, and that Aubree Groove was Digby Hart’s adopted little sister. Surely there must be some family discounts. After all, the Nine Sets Meal, akin to a modern Manchu Han Imperial Feast, was so costly and valued, it was almost unobtainable. He had been craving it for quite a while.
Peter Aria gave Brixton Alvarez a stern look. Seeing this, Brixton Alvarez shrank back, surreptitiously rolling his eyes at Peter Aria.
Did this friend of his, who was so easily swayed by beauty, ever consider his feelings when he made the phone call that rousted him out of bed at five in the morning so he could line up amongst a bunch of enthusiastic housewives?
Aubree Groove laughed and agreed, “Then, leave that to me.”
Brixton Alvarez was overjoyed instantly, “In that case, I will line up to buy congee for you every morning.”
Fifteen days of lining up for breakfast in exchange for a Nine Sets Meal, to Brixton Alvarez, was a very good deal.
Peter Aria took the insulated container from him, opened the cover, and immediately, an aromatic smell of congee filled the room.
Peter Aria scooped a spoonful and blew on it to cool it; Dallyn immediately stepped forward, “Dr. Aria, let me do it.”
