Chris waved at Frankie, who hurried over. Chris picked him up and carried him to a corner of the living room. Frankie, struggling, looked at Yvette and Sienna, pleading, “Yve, Sienna, help! He’s torturing me!”
Chris blocked the others’ view. It was unclear why Frankie suddenly burst into laughter and tears. Sienna leaned in and whispered to Yvette, “What kind of torture is Frankie going through?”
Emmett calmly explained, “Don’t worry. Chris just found his laughter spot.”
Ten minutes later, Chris set Frankie down, and they returned to their seats. Frankie, still laughing, shot a glare at the group. “You’re all just jealous of my looks.”
Just then, Yvette’s phone rang. She checked the caller ID and answered, “Hello.”
Jeremiah had just returned home after a day of military meetings. He hadn’t even had time to remove his uniform before calling. It was midnight in Clusia and morning in Mysonna, so he deemed it a good time. Standing on his balcony in uniform, a cigarette in hand (though he hadn’t smoked in a while because Yvette disliked the smell), his voice was deep and warm as he listened to Yvette. “Have you eaten breakfast?”
Yvette, sounding relaxed, replied, “Mm, the pierogies are great.”
Jeremiah paused, a smile spreading across his face. “Great? I’ll make some for you when I’m back.”
Yvette raised an eyebrow, thinking, Does he really think he can win me over with pierogies? “Alright,” she said.
Emmett, Bruce, Chris, and Frankie fell silent, realizing Yvette was speaking with Jeremiah. They chatted casually, with Jeremiah doing most of the talking. Emmett noted it was the most talkative he’d ever seen Jeremiah, wondering where he found all those words.
Five minutes later, Yvette glanced at Frankie, who was quietly talking with Sienna. She poked her water cup and said, “Jeremiah, someone tricked me out of six hundred and sixty thousand dollars. It hurts.”
Frankie looked up in shock, thinking she intentionally mentioned him, but he didn’t dare say anything. He knew confronting either Jeremiah or Yvette wouldn’t end well. Emmett and Bruce exchanged sympathetic looks with Frankie. Chris, close by, patted Frankie’s shoulder. “Hang in there.” They were puzzled about how Yvette’s money was so easily swindled. It turned out she was expecting this. Sienna looked confused, unaware of who was on the other end of the call.
Ten minutes later, Jeremiah paused, asking Yvette to put the call on speaker. She complied, placing the phone on the table, her eyes twinkling with amusement. Jeremiah’s voice came through coldly. “Frankie, you have a lot of nerve.” Yvette didn’t say who had tricked her, but Jeremiah knew it was Frankie.
With a sad look, Frankie begged, “I was wrong! I shouldn’t have tricked Yvette! I confess!”
Jeremiah lowered his voice, “I see you’re sincere. Yvette is quite poor, and I remember you own a nice villa.”
Frankie forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. “That villa belongs to Yvette.” He felt hopeless. After taking six hundred and sixty thousand from Yvette, he now stood to lose a three-hundred-million-dollar villa. He regretted it. He thought, Jeremiah and Yvette are indeed a perfect match. They are both masters of deception. Frankie vowed never to trick Yvette again.
Yvette was surprised by Jeremiah’s ruthlessness but found it appealing.
Frankie poked at the ugly fried egg on his plate while Emmett, Bruce, and Chris chuckled at Jeremiah’s clever scheme. They thought, How can Yvette be considered poor when she’s an internationally renowned artist whose paintings sell for hundreds of millions? An amount like six hundred and sixty thousand wouldn’t cause her any distress. This couple is not to be trifled with. Crossing them could lead to disaster.
Yvette turned off the speakerphone, returning the phone to her ear while Jeremiah listened to her soft breaths. “I miss you,” he said.
Yvette responded with a slight smile, “Keep missing. I’m hanging up now.”
At the Chavez family estate, Jeremiah chuckled softly after the call. A knock sounded at the door, and a servant announced, “Young Master, the old commander wants to see you.” Jeremiah put out his cigarette and opened the door.
The servant said respectfully, “Young Master, your grandfather is waiting for you.”
Jeremiah nodded and went up to the third-floor study. Inside, Jase, the head of the Chavez family and one of Clusia’s early leaders, was nearing eighty. He looked at his favorite grandson with a mix of annoyance and affection. From a young age, Jase had seen Jeremiah as the best of their generation. Jeremiah had lived up to his expectations, joining the military and earning respect, becoming Clusia’s youngest major general. The president had high hopes for him, and Jeremiah might even become Clusia’s youngest lieutenant general the following year.
Jase sat upright on the sofa, still strong despite his age. “You’re thirty now. When are you going to get a wife? I’ll be retiring soon. You need to give me a great-grandson, or life will be dull.”
Jeremiah looked up, sipping his coffee before replying, “You want kids?”
Jase feigned anger. “Of course! Look at the neighbor’s grandson—he has three already! Can’t you try to give me one, even if no girl seems to like you?” Jase was just teasing Jeremiah. He knew how popular his grandson was. Even in kindergarten, girls fought to sit next to Jeremiah.