CHAPTER 101: CHAPTER 101: OVERWHELMING SCHEMING AURA

"Miss Donovan?"

As Wyatt Hawthorne reached the entrance of the private room on the top floor, a stunning girl with both beauty and grace was sitting by the window.

She looked like a noblewoman from an ancient painting, Diana Donovan in a cream-colored modern-style qipao, showing her side face elegantly to the door.

As soon as one enters, they can see her serene and beautiful view of the outside garden.

A sense of cunning hit Wyatt directly.

Wyatt paused his gaze, made a sound to announce his presence, and then entered the room.

"Young Master Hawthorne!"

Sure enough, when Diana Donovan looked over shyly and timidly, her large eyes, enhanced with contacts and eyeliner, revealed a startled look like a fawn in the forest.

Wyatt suddenly felt annoyed.

Diana Donovan was puzzled deep inside.

Rumor had it that over the years, the wealthy ladies rejected by Young Master Hawthorne ranged from gentle and sweet types to bold and assertive ones, in diverse styles.

Miss Sheffield, with her bright and bold style, was probably the closest to his aesthetic preference.

Thinking the good news was near, she didn’t expect it to fall apart even as the engagement approached.

Among the noblewomen, their analyses were about as thick as the Kangxi Dictionary, finally reaching a conclusion.

Could it be that he likes those silly, bumbling beauties?

Whether or not, it would be verified soon enough.

The Donovan Family happily secured a dating slot.

So, early in the morning, Diana Donovan bathed and dressed, spending two hours with stylists to look like a stunning silly beauty.

However, Young Master Hawthorne... didn’t seem impressed?

Diana Donovan anxiously looked at Wyatt, who sat across from her, feeling her heart fluttering unsteadily.

Wyatt candidly spoke, "You don’t suit wearing a qipao!"

Knowing someone of Wyatt’s status must disdain family-arranged dating sessions.

Yet, without even putting on a facade, was he already nitpicking so quickly?

Diana Donovan blushed slightly.

Wyatt’s scrutinizing gaze drifted from her face downwards, just stopping at the folding fan on the table. "You should wear deep V, floor-length gowns in various colors—black for elegance, white for purity, red for vibrance..."

He rattled off a series of colorful suggestions, then frowned slightly. "You wearing the modern style? It makes you look unsophisticated."

Diana Donovan’s eyes gleamed brightly.

The gentle demeanor she had reinforced with self-affirmations of "be poised, be elegant, be ladylike" flew away instantly. "Young Master Hawthorne, you really understand me!"

Her stylist had said the same—her expressive eyes were best suited to revealing, glamorous dresses.

She hadn’t expected Wyatt’s gaze to be sharper than even her stylist’s.

The stylist took years to develop this tacit understanding.

Yet Wyatt, with a simple first meeting, pointed it out directly.

"Young Master Hawthorne truly has an eye!"

Diana Donovan looked at Wyatt with bright, sparkling eyes.

Her heart filled with pink bubbles.

Only to hear Wyatt say, "Right? My boyfriend says the same thing!"

Boy... boyfriend?

Pop!

Pop pop!

The pink bubbles in her heart burst apart in a mess.

Diana Donovan was stunned, "You, you... boyfriend?"

"Yes..."

Wyatt calmly continued, "Next time, I’ll introduce you guys?"

Diana Donovan was about to cry.

Just yesterday, she was shocked when told by her family about today’s arranged date with Young Master Hawthorne.

Last night, how excited she was in her chat group with her fake sisters.

Now, she felt as if struck by lightning.

Diana Donovan didn’t know what to say for a moment.

Any observer could tell it was an arranged meeting by the elders; whether it would work out was another matter, but a meeting was imperative.

You never know, maybe there’d be mutual interest?

She spent the entire morning dressing up, rehearsing in her mind countless times about what to talk about when meeting Wyatt, with what expressions and tones.

Yet upon meeting Wyatt, with just "Miss Donovan," a comment about her not looking good in modern style.

And mentioning a boyfriend.

In just three sentences, she was utterly crushed.

"You, you..."

She didn’t dare curse Wyatt.

Even less could she blame the Hawthorne Family elders for arranging the date with Wyatt.

Diana Donovan’s face alternated between white, red, and green. Unable to voice a complete sentence, she ran away with tears clinging to her lashes.

The phone rang with a jingle.

Wyatt turned his head, noticed Diana Donovan running out of the courtyard.

Sloooowly answering the phone, "Hello?"

"Bro, you really went on the date? Aren’t you afraid my sister-in-law..."

"It’s done already!"

???

Julian Rivera paused on the other end, instinctively glancing at his wristwatch, "You just went in for a few minutes, and it’s already over?"

"Got a problem?"

Wyatt’s voice was lazy.

Julian laughed, "Who am I to question? How many sentences this time?"

"Two? Or three? I don’t remember..."

Wyatt retorted with frustration, "You take notes on how many sentences you speak while chatting with a girl on a date?"

"Fine!"

Julian chuckled, "Last time, with that Miss Larkin, you went in for ten minutes, said five sentences and got her so angry, she swore to avoid anyone with the last name ’Hawthorne.’ This time... you’ve set a new record!"

"Stop wasting time! If you have time, come over for dinner!"

Wyatt tossed an address and bluntly hung up.

Checking his WeChat, all morning, not a single message from Serena Sinclair.

Even when he asked what she’d like for lunch, no response.

Avoiding suspicion at the company.

Even during work hours, WeChat needs to avoid suspicion?

Wyatt felt utterly resentful.

In just over ten minutes, Julian arrived.

Upon entering, he stood frozen at the doorway with squinting, suspicious eyes, "Why does the air feel filled with a sense of trouble?"

Wyatt looked back.

Julian explained, "I’m here to put out the fire, to make sure you face my sister-in-law with a good mood. Why do I feel like the nine fox tails behind you are swaying in the wind?"

"So obvious?"

Wyatt’s rhetorical question, Julian understood instantly, "Bro, you’re efficient!!!"

Chitchatting while eating, they left the South River Pavilion at two.

With nothing else to do, heading to the office would not let him see Serena anyway.

Wyatt decided to go home.

The elevator stopped at the 19th floor, Wyatt casually opened the door with familiarity.

He paused in his tracks.

On the carpet in front of the living room sofa, Una Hutton was cuddling a bag of chips and petting a cat.

It seemed like a variety show on the television, with a group of people chatting away.

Their eyes met, and Wyatt suddenly felt that meeting with Diana Donovan wasn’t without gain today.

At the least, he learned a little something from her.

Like that bit of inexplicable craftiness.

Catching the cat leaping into his arms, Wyatt introduced himself, "Hi, I’m Serena Sinclair’s underground lover."

No need to be reserved with insiders.

Una Hutton wiped chip crumbs from her mouth, placed the cushion correctly on the sofa, and cheerfully responded, "Hi, I’m Serena’s best friend who saw it coming!"

Exchanging knowing glances, Wyatt released the cat, "Alright, carry on!"

Turning around, shutting the door.

Wyatt left as quietly as he came.

At six o’clock sharp, Serena ended her workday.

Stepping out of the elevator, Serena instinctively glanced outside the main door.

Adrian Lockwood and Miles Lockwood were nowhere in sight.

Just as she exhaled, she spotted Mrs. Cole standing by the steps.