No More Waiting, She Chooses Love

I thought I'd get turned away at the door. It turned out Herschel's name carried some weight, especially with Lord.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside and immediately spotted an elder with salt-and-pepper hair standing in the hall practicing what appeared to be yoga.

Was he Lord? I had done my homework on Lord, who wasn't even sixty, around Herschel's age, and he was youthful-looking in his photos. But he looked much older than Herschel.

Even with all the background info on Lord, for a moment, I struggled to connect this figure, deeply immersed in his poses, with the man I had come to see. It felt like I had the wrong person.

"Hey, Felicia, spit it out. What do you need?" Lord didn't stop his routine, moving through his yoga poses gracefully.

His statement was clear. He was indeed Lord.

I didn't want to guess why he looked the way he did. I took another deep breath and replied, "Good to meet you, Mr. Clark. My name's Felicia."Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

"Hmm, I know who you are," Lord kept up his movements without pause.

I was stunned, my heart racing.

Did he know me? Did he also know why I was there to see him? Had Allen given him a heads-up?

"Herschel's quite fond of you. He treats you like a daughter. He's always talking about you," Lord threw in another comment.

So that was it. Lord's words left me momentarily speechless.

"Well, Felicia, what do you want to talk to me?" Despite his physical activity, Lord's voice remained steady.

But up till then, I hadn't seen his face since he had been side-on the whole time.

I steadied my breathing. "Mr. Clark, I wanted to ask if you remember someone named Denis Hudson. He discussed a contract with you over a decade ago."

Lord didn't respond. Instead, he moved through his yoga routine, each action flowing into the next with smooth, powerful grace.

After about a dozen sequences, he

finally slowed down and turned to face me, Standing straight, he closed his eyes, his hands moving before his chest calmly, breathing deeply.

When facing him, I could see his features weren't much different from the photos I'd researched, but there was a gentleness there. It seemed the years had softened him,

contrary to the rumors.

I realized he was meditating. Though I was eager for a response, I knew better than to interrupt.

After about five minutes, Lord finally opened his eyes and looked directly at me. His gaze was sharp, sending a chill down my spine and making me momentarily lose my voice.

A bodyguard stepped forward to

hand him a towel. After drying his hands, Lord moved toward a sitting area where a young servant girl was waiting to serve him tea and bring a blanket, a scene reminiscent of royal treatment from TV dramas.

Living the high life, I mused, thinking of Herschel. He was just as wealthy, but he never gave in to such extravagance.

The Wagner family had housekeepers, but Herschel often cooked himself, and Jacqueline even made him wash dishes and tidy the kitchen once a week.

Compared to Lord, Herschel seemed downright humble. Yet, in private, they were close friends, rarely meeting but spending whole days together when they did.