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Love or Die CEO’s Daily Dose of Swoon

Chapter 122
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Chapter 122

Cordelia sat slumped at her desk, now changed into her cozy pajamas. Elbows planted firmly on the wood, she cradled her smartphone in her hands, awaiting a reply from the members of her social group chat.

Since yesterday, the question had been gnawing at her, who exactly was Everard? Even Sanderson, the guy who knew everyone in town, didn’t recognize the name. Could it be that Everard was a ghost, a figment of her Imagination?

This morning’s chat in the Pioneers Group sparked a realization, the group was a melting pot of professionals from various fields. Surely someone might know him, right?

But after she posted her question, the chat fell eerily silent.

After a torturous two–minute wait, a reply finally popped up.

Bland asked, [Lia, are you pulling our leg? How could you not know him?]

Cordelia blinked, her instincts telling her that Bland knew Everard. She typed back hastily, [Who is he?]

Silence fell over the group once again.

Just as she was about to probe further, another message cthrough.

Nolnterruptions said, [Never heard of him.]

Like an icebreaker, the message prompted a flurry of responses.

Pianoman said, [Nope, doesn’t ring a bell.]

Mathster replied, [A mystery to me.]

Painter said, [Who?]

Chef replied, [Not a clue.]

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Others all replied, [No idea.]

Everyone chimed in except Louie Adams. Cordelia’s brow furrowed as she read the stream of ignorance, finally addressing Bland directly, [So, you’re the one who knows him, @Bland?]

Bland replied, [No, I definitely do not.]

LearnLover was confused, texting. [?]

Bland replied, [Sorry, must’ve been a brain fart. Got the nwrong]

LearnLover was speechless, […]

All this and nobody knew him?

Cordelia mused for a moment before echoing Painter’s earlier message – [If anyone digs up anything about him, I’d appreciate a heads up. Thanks.]

She set her phone aside and opened the book “The Periodic Table” that she’d borrowed from her grandmother. The technical jargon was almost alien to her, making for a challenging read.

She flipped through the pages with a heavy sigh.

The old adage “learning never ends” couldn’t have been more true. She had thought her high school education was comprehensive and had even self–studied scollege material, but compared to the true experts, she was leagues behind.

Tto double down on her efforts.

She read on until 11:30 PM when Lorna brought her a cup of milk and honey. “Get ssleep, dear. You have to rest to regain energy,” Lorna advised

Cordella, always open to good advice, nodded in agreement.

She was setting her alarm when a new message popped up on her phone,

Loule asked. [Lia, why are you asking about this Everard guy?]

Cordelia rarely held back from Louie. She pondered for a moment before replying with the naked truth, (He’s my boyfriend]

Louie’s response cquickly, No way. Is he in Greenmeadow?]

LeomLover replied, [Yes, do you know him?]

Louie seemed to deliberate for a full ten minutes before sending back a cryptic message: [Be careful around him in real life. Keep your distance.]

What did he mean by keeping her distance? They hadn’t even been in contact online.

Puzzled, Cordelia sighed deeply, replying. I can’t stay away from him, my heart literally aches.]

She expected Louie to misunderstand, thinking she was waxing poetic about love, just as Lorna and Sanderson would. But how could she explain?

Before she could decide, Louie replied, [Why?]

Somehow, Cordelia felt Louie understood her meaning. After a moment’s thought, she responded: [Because “Love or Die” curse. Do you know that?]

Louie went silent.

His typing indicator blinked for another ten minutes, but still no message. Was there a glitch?

After showering and returning, Cordelia found Louie’s response: I know. I’ll see your granddad about a treatment tomorrow, and we can talk then.]

He knew. He actually knew!

Her eyes widened with a glimmer of hope. Anyone else might have called him immediately, but Cordelia was patient by nature. If Louie said tomorrow, she would wait.

She typed a single word – [Okay]

Then, she set the phone down, dried her hair, and slipped into bed. Just as she was about to turn off the device, it rang, the sharp tone jarring in the quiet of the night.

She stared at the screen, recognizing Everard’s number. What could he want at this late hour?

Hesitantly, she answered, and a familiar voice, more velvety than she remembered, greeted her, “Hey.”

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The voice seemed different in the nocturnal stillness, somehow more appealing. She hesitated before finally speaking. “What’s up?”

“I can’t sleep,” he stated, his voice so soothing it seemed to caress the night air.

Cordelia lay back, fluffed her pillow, and responded with blunt honesty, “Oh, I’m about to. Goodnight.”

“Girl,” he murmured. “I want to kiss you.”

She froze, stunned. Memories of their kiss at the party flooded her mind, his breath still lingering on her lips, making her own breath catch.

Her throat felt dry as she managed to say, “Goodnight,” and hung up.

That man, how dare he voice such thoughts so boldly? Cordelia felt her cheeks warm and the room grow. uncomfortably hot. She tossed her phone aside, closed her eyes, and tried to sleep.

Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a glow on her desk. Outside, the rustling of the trees whispered through the window.

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Chapter 122

But sleep eluded her. The thought haunted her had “Love or Die” curse escalated to the point where she felt this tumultuous at the mention of a kiss?

That night, she had no idea how she managed to fall asleep.

The backyard of the Midnight Scent was connected to a quaint three–story villa, which Calvert had impulsively bought in its entirety, choosing to reside within its cozy

zv walls.

Everard woke up bright and early, as was his routine, to get in his morning workout. After a refreshing shower. he returned to the cafe and took his usual spot behind the counter, waiting for the arrival of the neighborhood kids.

At 7:20 AM, right on schedule, the sound of footsteps echoed at the entrance.

Then, a young girl pushed open the door. Her usually composed face was tinged with a hint of annoyance, prompting Everard to slowly set aside his copy of the Bible, bracing himself for the impending storm.

Without delay, the girl slammed a piece of paper down on the counter with a resounding “thwack“. “This is a dating contract, from now on we’re sticking to this!” she declared.

Everard was momentarily stunned, but he leaned in to get a closer look-