Alistair Forrest froze for a mont. By the ti he snapped out of it, Nathaniel Nathan had already gone back into his room. He glanced at the room number, then asked the bodyguard beside him, "Yesterday, I had you find out which room Honey was staying in. Which one was it again?"
"305," the bodyguard answered.
Alistair Forrest turned his head to look again at the room number Nathaniel had entered, and it felt like a knife to the heart. The room was 305.
More importantly, Nathaniel Nathan had a key to the room, which ant he and Vera Xavier were sharing it.
He might have talked tough in front of Nathaniel last night, but talking the talk was one thing; seeing this for himself was another entirely!
The two bodyguards exchanged a look. One of them spoke up to console him, "Young Master, maybe Ms. Xavier gave him the room. She could be staying in another one."
Alistair Forrest didn’t feel consoled in the slightest. In fact, it was an even bigger gut punch.
He asked his bodyguards, "Am I more handso, or is that guy from just now more handso?"
"Of course you are, Young Master!" the two bodyguards replied in unison.
"Am I more stylish or is he?" Alistair Forrest continued.
The two bodyguards glanced at each other and decided to continue lying. "Young Master, you’re the most stylish man in the universe! How could he possibly compare to you?"
Alistair Forrest finally felt a little better, but then he asked, "Then why does Honey like him and not ?"
The two bodyguards: "..."
’Young Master, you’re completely killing the conversation!’
Alistair Forrest shot them a glare, then turned and knocked on the door to room 305. He only knocked once before Nathaniel Nathan opened it. "Sothing I can help you with?"
Alistair Forrest faced Nathaniel Nathan’s powerful aura without the slightest bit of fear. He peeked through the crack in the door and, from that angle, could just make out Vera Xavier sleeping on the bed.
He instantly felt like cursing his own hands and his own eyes. ’Why did I have to knock?! Why did I have to look inside?! I actually saw the very last thing I wanted to see!’
So he said sullenly, "It’s nothing, really. I just wanted to remind you that the money will be transferred today. Please be sure to check for it..."
Before he could even finish speaking, the door slamd shut, nearly hitting him in the nose.
He gloomily reached up and touched his nose. The most heartbreaking thing in the world wasn’t seeing the woman you love sharing a room with another man. It was knowing they were together, having to cover it up with so other excuse, and still getting the door slamd in your face by your rival.
Seeing this, his two bodyguards were trying hard to stifle their laughter. When he looked over, they quickly wiped the smiles from their faces and resud their flattery. "The Young Master is the most handso and stylish man in the universe! Everyone loves you, and flowers bloom in your presence!"
Alistair Forrest seethed with anger at the sight of them. "I’m ordering you to go get a burlap sack. Tonight, we’re going to throw it over that bastard’s head and beat the crap out of him!"
One of the bodyguards said, "Young Master, this is the mainland, not Marinus. Before we left, the Master repeatedly instructed us to be law-abiding citizens and not to break the law!"
The other added, "A man as handso and dashing as you, Young Master, why would you bother with a re mortal like him?"
Alistair Forrest shot them a sideways glance. "You’re just afraid you can’t beat him, aren’t you?"
The two bodyguards: "..."
’Young Master, so things are better left unsaid! Besides, we’re bodyguards, not assassins.’
Alistair Forrest glared at them and said, "I must have had eight lifetis of bad luck to end up with two wimps like you as bodyguards. When we get back, you’re fired!"
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