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Chapter 576: The Struggle After leaving the Parry mansion, it was already evening, past seven o'clock.
The city was adorned with colorful lights as nightfall arrived, creating a completely different atmosphere from the majestic daylight.
The night scenery was hazy and enchanting, exuding a sense of beauty.
Gordon instructed his subordinates to take the collected evidence back to the police station. He lifted his weary neck and glanced at the sky, which revealed the deep blue twilight.
A tinge of guilt surfaced on his stern face, and he parted his lips slightly before speaking, "Miss Lawrence, I apologize for delaying your departure from work once again. It's dinnertnow, so why don't I treat you to a meal?" Inviting Cheyenne for a meal? A man inviting a woman out to eat under the pretense of gratitude was quite a cliché move.
To prevent any ulterior motives, Kelvin decided to play the role of a chaperone.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtWithout hesitation, he interrupted Gordon's suggestion, "No, food outside isn't clean, and the taste isn't as good as homemade." Upon hearing his words, both of them directed their gazes towards Kelvin, causing him to feel uneasy. He discreetly raised an eyebrow.
Cheyenne couldn't guarantee the cleanliness outside, but as for the taste... it was definitely much better than what she could cook. After all, she only knew how to make chicken mushroom soup. However, at this hour, it wasn't realistic to go out and buy chicken to make soup.
Gordon was an honest boy, not as calculating as Kelvin. He genuinely believed that Kelvin was concerned about the cleanliness of outside food, so he abandoned the idea.
"In that case, Mr. Foley, what do you suggest?" "Let's make it ourselves!" He said it with determination, as if sealing a deal of great significance.
At the Lawrence Villa, there was a spacious kitchen.
However, with the presence of two tall men, the kitchen suddenly felt a bit crowded.
Cheyenne changed into a casual houtfit, wearing a white long t-shirt that reached her thighs, paired with light gray wide-leg pants. She tied her long hair into a bun on top of her head, securing it with a red cherry- shaped hair tie.
Without any makeup, she was still fascinated. She seemed unaware of her own charm as she casually picked up an apple, leaning against the door with curious eyes.
Click.
Her red lips slightly parted as she took a bite of the apple.
Chewing on it, she observed the two big men in the kitchen. Together, they weighed nearly 300 pounds, yet they were both shining brightly over a small apron.
Although Cheyenne didn't cook often, the kitchen was still well-equipped with everything it needed.
At this moment, this adorable apron was innocently being torn apart by the two men. Gordon stood on the left, gripping the apron's ties with his large hand. An unusual trace of anger appeared on his usually stern face.
In a deep voice, he said, "Based on the calluses between your index finger and thumb on your left hand, Mr. Foley, it seems you're accustomed to holding a pen. You're wearing a limited edition designer suit, with even your cufflinks exuding extravagance. It seems unlikely that a man like you would spend tin the kitchen." Kelvin stood on the right, his knuckles prominent as he held the other end of the apron. His voice was unexpectedly cold, and a chill flickered in his eyes. "From a kitchen only has two eggs and one tomato. In order to maximize profit, we must optimize the allocation of resources." businessman's perspective the ne As his words fell, Gordon's eye twitched, his brows furrowing, and even his forehead creases formed waves. His éducation wasn't extensive; he went straight to police academy without graduating from college and then joined the military... He didn't quite understand concepts like maximizing profit and resource allocation.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmCould Mr. Foley please speak in simpler terms? "So?" Kelvin knew this uncultured man had limited knowledge and felt a great sense of confidence in overpowering him in this aspect.
The lips curved into a gentle smile as he continued, "Naturally, the resources should be entrusted to the most capable person for allocation, like me!" "No way! I want to use that egg too!" "I want to use it as well!" Here we go again.
Although both had a cold and aloof demeanor, the impression they gave Gordon's off was vastly different of coldness carried a sense masculine stability and righteousness, providing a strong sense of security. On the other hand, Kelvin's coldness had a touch of elegance. While the two men were locked in a dispute over the ownership of an egg, Cheyenne had already quickly finished an apple. Her plump cheeks puffed out as she reached out with her small hand to touch her belly, pursing her lips. Why did she feel even hungrier?
The corner of her eye glanced at the wall clock. Goodness, it was almost 8 o'clock now. From the moment she entered the kitchen until now, these E two had been at odds for half an hour. If this continues, they probably won't even need to have dinner and can just settle for a late-night snack. Cheyenne even hesitated whether to send Dominic a text message, asking him to bring her scrayfish. "Hey, you two, is it even interesting for you to fight over this egg? Kelvin, can you cook?" After knowing him for so many years, she had never seen him step foot in the kitchen. If you were to say Kelvin could cook, it would only be limited to the tthey were stranded on a deserted island when he grilled fish.
Looking back now, he simply gutted the fish, cleaned it, impaled it on a wooden stick, and roasted it over a fire. Perhaps due to the lack of En:" seasoning, it tasted bland and somewhat fishy. However, at that time, there was simply no other food available, so she reluctantly ate it. Upon hearing her question, Kelvin shook his head openly and honestly, declaring in a deep voice, "I can't." Cheyenne was wordless. Then why are you fighting for it? Gordon smirked sarcastically, his stern gaze reproachfully directed at Kelvin as he retorted, "Mr. Foley's so-called resource allocation is simply a joke!" Kelvin squinted his eyes and responded indifferently, "Do you know how to cook?" The tall man, standing at over 6 feet, awkwardly lowered his head and bluntly announced, "If you don't know how, why should I be expected to?" Alright, this was just a pointless argument.
Just as Cheyenne took out her phone to order stakeout to prevent herself from starving to death because of these two, a melodious voice suddenly sounded from outside the door, refreshing like a clear spring, soothing to the soul.
"I can." Search The (F)indWebsite on Gøøgle to access chapters of early and in the highest quality.
Surprised, she turned her head and saw a white figure slowly approaching, bringing with it an air of elegance and poetry.
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