CHAPTER 16: CHAPTER 16: BRO, ARE YOU KEEPING A MISTRESS IN A GILDED CHAMBER?

The rain was heavy, the windshield wipers on the front window moved back and forth, but it was impossible to see where anything was around.

Once out of the car, it was another underground garage.

Standing at the entrance after exiting the elevator, Serena Sinclair paused, feeling a sense of awkwardness and reluctance to move forward.

The living room in view was spacious and luxuriously decorated.

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows was a lush greenery filled with overlapping mountain ranges.

The off-white and light gray decor added a touch of softness to the entire house, diluting much of Wyatt Hawthorne’s brooding look.

But Serena Sinclair didn’t dare to take a single step forward.

Water dripped from her body.

Muddy footprints were left at the elevator entrance.

Even stripping off her gown in front of so many people at The Lockwood Villa didn’t faze her.

But at this moment, Serena Sinclair felt a kind of overwhelming embarrassment.

Wyatt Hawthorne directly opened the shoe cabinet, took out a brand new pair of cotton slippers, opened them, and placed them by Serena Sinclair’s feet, "Go take a bath in the bathroom, and when you’re done, handle the wound on your foot."

"I..."

"If you don’t want to catch a cold, obediently listen!"

Pointing in the direction of the bedroom, Wyatt Hawthorne loosened his tie and threw it onto the sofa while taking out his phone and making a call, "Are they all here?... Dismiss them, we’ll reschedule another day!"

His voice was deep, and his speech commanding.

With his black clothes and black pants dressed against his figure, he closely resembled the domineering CEO from urban love dramas.

Of course, that was if one disregarded the orange cat cradled in his elbow.

Water pooled on the ground, spreading outward.

Serena Sinclair felt deeply ashamed.

But losing some face or losing a lot, neither seemed all that different.

Serena Sinclair steeled herself, put on the slippers, and entered the bedroom.

The deep gray bedroom carried a cool fragrance in the air, one that when inhaled, seemed to place her in a Nordic spruce and cedar forest.

Determining the location, Serena Sinclair pushed the door into the bathroom.

Her wet clothes were thrown into the dirty laundry basket, and at that moment, Serena Sinclair paused.

What should she wear later?

She couldn’t just wrap herself in a towel in Wyatt Hawthorne’s house, could she?

And who knows how long the delivery she ordered would take?

In the living room, Wyatt Hawthorne frowned as he gazed at the silhouette on the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking at the ugly orange cat sleeping snugly in his elbow, unable to help frowning, "Whether it’s hundreds of billions or even trillions, haven’t you seen that God says today is not suitable for signing any contracts?"

"If they’re reasonable, let them know I can give a one percent discount for signing tomorrow. ... If not, then forget it!"

Completely ignoring the importance of the major contract awaiting his signature.

Wyatt Hawthorne directly hung up the phone.

He glanced at the orange cat, who was sleeping and twitching its eyes.

He then surveyed the room; despite the sofas being spacious and the carpet soft, Wyatt Hawthorne still felt dissatisfied everywhere.

But before Wyatt Hawthorne could finish his dilemma,

The orange cat woke up.

After a long stretch, it leapt to the floor and started patrolling its territory like a lord.

Wyatt Hawthorne raised his eyebrow, a hint of amusement gleaming in his eyes.

The sound of water splashing in the bathroom began, and reminiscing upon the scene he had seen earlier, Wyatt Hawthorne dialed a number with a serious expression, "Do you have any unworn new clothes? Send over a set ... Come on, do you think I need men’s clothes?"

!!!

"Bro, are you hiding a sweetheart in a golden house???"

The female voice on the other end of the line was loud enough to pierce eardrums.

Wyatt Hawthorne, looking disapprovingly, moved the phone away until she finished her barrage of questions before placing it back to his ear, "I’ll need a full set, from inside out, and the shoes should have soft soles, quickly!"

"Bro!!!"

The voice of disbelief came to a halt, and Wyatt Hawthorne directly hung up.

Serena Sinclair comfortably enjoyed a hot bath, wrapping herself securely in a towel.

She had just turned on the hairdryer when there was a knock on the bathroom door.

Her hairs stood on end; Serena Sinclair didn’t have time to respond.

A crisp female voice sounded outside the door, "Sister, I placed the clothes by the door for you. They’re all new, feel free to wear them!"

Bam!

Perhaps concerned that Serena Sinclair wouldn’t trust, the bedroom door closed heavily.

Serena Sinclair pulled open the door and immediately saw the bag on the floor.

A set of black underwear, still warm from the dryer.

A lake green Bohemian-style long dress, leisurely and comfortable.

Serena Sinclair dried her hair, changed her clothes, and walked out of the bedroom.

As soon as she stepped out, she froze.

On the sofa, a short-haired girl in home clothes, shorts, and a T-shirt, was excitedly using a tie to strangle Wyatt Hawthorne’s neck.

Her eyes were brightly shining like stars, "Speak up quickly! Or this time next year will be your memorial day!"

She evidently didn’t expect Serena Sinclair to be out so quickly after washing up.

The girl froze.

Wyatt Hawthorne pulled and whipped the tie from her hand, casually tossing it into the trash can.

"I’m counting to three. Disappear! 1... 3!!!"

???

The girl was still captivated by Serena Sinclair’s beauty, and upon hearing the count to three without warning, she shot off, "Wyatt Hawthorne, you lack principles!!! Where’s 2? ... Beautiful sister, it’s an honor to meet you, see you next time! Bye..."

As the voice fell, she had already disappeared into the elevator.

Serena Sinclair: ...

"The doctor will be here soon, why don’t you sit for a while..."

Motioning Serena Sinclair to take a seat, Wyatt Hawthorne went to the kitchen, brought back a cup of hot milk, and handed it to her, "That was Cora Rivera just now! She brought you the clothes!"

"Your... girlfriend?"

Serena Sinclair took a sip of the milk, her eyes bright with laughter, "What a cute girl, I really like her!"

"No."

Wyatt Hawthorne shook his head, "She’s my sister."

Serena Sinclair looked suddenly enlightened.

Wyatt Hawthorne continued, "Her dad is my third uncle, she uses her mother’s surname. She lives in the next building over, easy to get here from the underground garage."

Serena Sinclair nodded, "Next time, can you ask her how much these clothes cost, and I’ll transfer the money to you to pass along to thank her?"

"Okay!"

Wyatt Hawthorne nodded.

The doorbell rang, and Wyatt Hawthorne went forward to answer it.

Groups of doctors entered in sequence.

One group measured Serena Sinclair’s temperature and took care of the wound on her foot.

Another group took the orange cat to the room.

When Serena Sinclair looked up again, Wyatt Hawthorne was already nowhere to be seen.

After being drenched, yet not having a fever, the doctors meticulously left medicine, advising Serena Sinclair to take it if any symptoms appeared.

The wound on her foot was treated and medicated.

Even the orange cat taken into the room came out with fluffy fur and an upright tail, seemingly in a great mood.

The doctors left.

The spacious living room quieted down.

Serena Sinclair turned back to watch the downpour still raging outside the window, unable to help but start worrying.

Wondering when the rain would stop.

"Senior..."

Hearing Wyatt Hawthorne’s voice from behind, Serena Sinclair turned around, only to see Wyatt Hawthorne had changed into home clothes.

A white T-shirt and trousers.

Walking barefoot across the floor, Wyatt Hawthorne lost the gloomy, aloof demeanor of the domineering CEO from earlier.

Framed by a bright and warm smile, for a moment, he seemed to return to the sunny youth who ran on the basketball court during college.

Playfully tousling his still-damp hair, Wyatt Hawthorne smiled and asked Serena Sinclair, "Do you act like this when you visit other people’s homes?"

Serena Sinclair froze, glancing down at herself, "In what way?"

"Brimming with prickles all over, it’s as if this isn’t a home but an interrogation room."

Wyatt Hawthorne quipped. Without waiting for Serena Sinclair to respond, he casually asked, "What will you drink? Tea or coffee? ... Forget it, I’ll make something, and you drink that!"

The aroma of coffee with woody notes permeated throughout the living room.

A moment later, Wyatt Hawthorne brought over two cups of coffee, handed one to Serena Sinclair, and decisively went to sit on the floor by the window.

Being a few meters apart, Wyatt Hawthorne again looked out of the window and enjoyed the view of the rain.

Serena Sinclair eased up quite a bit.

Just then, Wyatt Hawthorne asked, "Senior, do you have any regrets?"

Serena Sinclair was startled.