No employee?
Which meant...
"Then she must have snuck into Le Céleste to find a rich man!" Hailey's voice rose,
as if she had uncovered some monumental secret about Serena.
But when she saw Nicholas avert his gaze and start to walk away, she could no longer pretend not to see him.
If he left now, who would she be performing for?
"Nic... Mr. Blackwood!"
She feigned surprise, as if just noticing him, and hurried after him. "Mr. Blackwood, do you remember me?"
She practically had to jog to keep up with his long strides. "Mr. Blackwood, I didn't want to say anything, but..."
"Then don't," Nicholas said, his voice cool and distant. His eyes, when they lifted slightly, were as cold as fractured ice. "No one asked you to spread rumors."
Hailey's expression froze. She hadn't expected such a reaction at all.
She had no choice but to push on, committing fully to her role as the determined, innocent victim. "But... but Mr. Blackwood, I just don't want you to be deceived by Serena!"
Without waiting for a response, she quickly held her phone up in front of him. "Mr. Blackwood, I'm not lying, really... She... she was in the VIP area just now, getting handsy with an old man. She must have gotten into the VIP area with his help." The implication was clear: Serena had sold her body to get into Le Céleste. Nicholas glanced down, his eyes sweeping over the photo on the screen.
It showed the girl in a chef's apron, standing in the VIP lounge.
Another showed her talking with an elderly man who was also wearing a chef's uniform.
The last was of the two of them leaving together.
Nicholas's cool eyes lifted again, landing on Hailey's face, which was slightly twisted with jealousy yet desperately trying to maintain an nocent facade. The contradiction was jarring.
Suddenly, he chuckled.
Hailey couldn't decipher his expression.
She only knew that his gaze was fixed on her, and she couldn't stop a blush from creeping up her cheeks. "Mr. Blackwood~~" she cooed in a shy, breathy voice.
Just then, a powerful voice with a hint of amusement cut in. "Oh? An old man? Getting handsy? Are you, by any chance, talking about me?"
The voice was strangely familiar.
Hailey's expression stiffened. She followed the sound and saw an elderly man in a high-end, custom-made gray suit walking slowly toward them with a steady elegant gait.
He was casually wiping his hands with a silk handkerchief, his presence overwhelmingly authoritative.
That old man...
Wasn't he the same old chef from
outside the restroom, the one
Marianne had knocked the soup. onto who then had the gall demand one and a quarter million
dottars in compensation?
Now, without his chef's uniform, he looked distinguished and sharp, exuding an
intimidating aura that commanded respect.
He looked nothing like...
The ordinary old man in the chef's uniform from before.
Hailey was completely dumbfounded.
At that moment, the lobby manager rushed over, bowed deeply to the old man, his
voice laced with respect and fear. "Boss!!"