Chapter 512
“Grandpa’s social circle consists entirely of men. He has no female friends. He typically spends his time with Dorian, playing chess, enjoying coffee with old war buddies, and occasionally going horseback riding,” Percival said, abruptly falling silent.
“Dorian isn’t seeing any women, but remember what happened last time? He fell head over heels for someone online and almost flew out to meet her. If we hadn’t intervened, who knows what kind of trouble he would have gotten himself into?” Odalys retorted.
Percival twitched his mouth at the mention of Dorian’s online romance. The image of that day at the hotel flashed through his mind. The person Dorian had been in an online relationship with was a brute! His legs were as hairy as a bear’s, and yet Dorian was still smitten with him.
Percival took a sip of coffee, deciding it was best to keep his grandfather under supervision, perhaps even confining him to the house.
“It was wiser to stay out of this romantic crisis. After all, Dorian had Odalys to help him through the last one. But what if Evander ended up sleeping with someone? He would likely be fine, given his current health, but overexertion could be disastrous.”
“It’s futile. A person’s struggles are preordained. What they’ll do, who they’ll encounter, and what will transpire have all been predetermined. I’ve always advised him not to leave the house or interact with anyone except those involved with Magic Entertainment or Stewart Villa.”
“But didn’t he accidentally go through the Time Tunnel the last time he drove to see us? We couldn’t have predicted that, and we can’t control what might happen now,” Odalys reminded him.
“If everything were preventable, then nothing would be predestined or a tribulation. Wouldn’t getting rich be easy if everything could be changed? If everyone could alter their fate, wouldn’t poverty cease to exist?”
“Wealth and poverty have historically maintained a certain balance: the rich provided employment, while the poor, driven by ambition or necessity, contributed their labor. This interdependence, where each group relied on the other, was essential for societal order and stability.”
“No matter how many bodyguards you send, they can’t follow him to the bathroom, right?” Odalys continued.
Percival’s lips parted, but no words came out.
At that moment, the waiter arrived with the dishes and knocked on the private room door.
“Come in,” Percival said in a deep voice.
The aroma of the food from the dining car the waiter pushed in was overwhelming, and Odalys suddenly felt her hunger pangs return. The food on the table was simple home cooking—ordinary but truly appetizing. Some wealthy people preferred extravagant-looking dishes, but they often found it hard to enjoy such humble fare. Odalys Stone, having grown up in the mountains, preferred simpler meals to delicacies, and now Percival’s tastes seemed to align with hers.
“There’s also pozole,” Percival said.
When she heard him say “pozole,” Odalys’s eyes instantly lit up. Pozole is a Mexican stew made from hominy with chicken or pork, and it can be seasoned and garnished with shredded lettuce or cabbage, chili peppers, onion, garlic, radishes, avocado, salsa, or limes.
The lid was opened, releasing a fragrant aroma.
“How did you know I love this?” Odalys stared at the food, her eyes shining.
After serving the food, the waiter quietly left. Percival stood up, rolled up his sleeves, and filled her bowl with pozole.
“Last time, after you and Grandpa finished dinner and were sitting in the living room watching TV, I saw your eyes light up when you saw this dish on TV, so I guessed you must like it. Dorian has tried to learn how to make it a few times before, but without success,” Percival explained.
Odalys was deeply touched. Everyone seemed to be trying hard to ensure she ate and drank well, but she had been completely unaware of it. “Thank you,” she said, her voice a little hoarse.
Although Percival had never asked anything of her, her happiness seemed to be his priority. It wasn’t about pleasing her or needing her; he simply desired her well-being and a comfortable life. He wished for her to have a little more happiness, but it seemed like no matter how much he gave, it was never enough. He worked late to spend time with her during the day, but his high position in the Stewart family kept him incredibly busy, even if she couldn’t see it.
“I’ll go call them back for the meal,” Odalys said, remembering that the others had gone next door to review the script. They seemed to have a tacit understanding that they wanted to give the couple some space, so they found an excuse to go to the next room.
“No need, I just texted them,” Percival said, pulling her down to sit.
Odalys was surprised by his thoughtfulness. As soon as he finished speaking, the door opened. They walked in quickly, scripts in hand. Smelling the delicious aroma, they hurried to their chairs and sat down. “It smells so good! I think I’ve put on weight though, maybe two pounds. My agent will kill me,” Freya said, rubbing her stomach.
Despite her words, she couldn’t resist the allure of the delicious food and immediately began eating. Celebrities often talked about weight loss and strict diets, but they didn’t always practice what they preached. Put a delicious meal in front of them, and see if they could resist. It wasn’t effective to go to the gym immediately after eating anyway.
“Maybe not, but the director told me I’m perfect as I am. He said I’ll look even better in an evening gown once I fill out a little more,” Selah agreed. “You can’t pull off the look if you’re too thin. I need some curves to show off my beauty.”
“Haha, cheers!” Freya clinked glasses with Selah, as if she had found a kindred spirit.
Stellan, Percival, and Francis were discussing men’s topics, while Odalys concentrated on her meal until Freya nudged her arm.
“Hmm!” Odalys looked up in confusion.