Chapter 89: Is That Book Good?

Kelvin was alone in the study. The light enveloped him, his figure as majestic as a mountain. After a moment, he sighed and looked at the broken pen in his hand. It was a gift from Abbie, given to him on his twenty-second birthday. She'd even studied under a master to acquire it. He'd used it for over five years and found the thought of switching pens unsettling. He wrapped the pen in a piece of red cloth, placed it in its box, and planned to have it repaired on his way to work the next day.

The next day dawned sunny and clear. White clouds drifted lazily across the azure sky. Cheyenne, having spent two days in the hospital, felt her back aching terribly. However, she was ecstatic to be discharged that day.

Kate helped Cheyenne pack, grumbling, "Why didn't you call your family? How will you get all this home?"

"I didn't want to bother them; someone's picking me up later," Cheyenne replied.

Cheyenne, in a sky-blue dress with wavy curls and an azure butterfly bow hairband, looked elegant and cute. Her beauty was striking.

"Who?" Kate asked.

"Guess."

"Besides Reece, the sissy, there's only Mr. Lara, the top lawyer!"

At the mention of Omari, Kate stopped folding clothes, a smile spreading across her face. She nudged Cheyenne. "Speaking of which, how did you meet someone like Mr. Lara?"

"We've known each other since childhood. I know almost everything about you, but I had no idea about Mr. Lara!"

Cheyenne, gazing at Kate's face, gave a disdainful look and said softly, "It's all thanks to you."

Kate, stunned, sat wide-eyed, propping her chin in her hands. "Me? How? Cheyenne, tell me how I missed out on a billionaire!"

A billion dollars? Kate really underestimates Omari's assets. Cheyenne thought, her mind drifting back five years.

She was sixteen, in Metshire, in November. Autumn was deep, but Metshire's coastal location meant a mild, rainy climate year-round. Golden maple leaves shone, occasionally swirling in the breeze before settling at people's feet. Cheyenne, in a black vintage Audrey Hepburn-style dress, bumped into a man who caught her in a warm embrace. His cologne was strong, with an undercurrent of blood

He led her into a small alleyway. Her back pressed against a cold wall, his chest warm against hers. They clung together; she felt his powerful heartbeat through their clothes. She looked up. His face was flawlessly handsome, with thick eyebrows and sparkling eyes. His long lashes trembled. She impulsively touched them.

Stunned for a moment, she then said, "They're not fake."

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Bro, have you ever grown eyelashes?" Cheyenne asked softly, her eyes meeting his.

"This girl looks familiar!" Omari exclaimed, remembering her as the schoolmate punished for frog jumping. "It's you!"

Cheyenne was surprised. "Do you know me?"

Omari chuckled, his voice magnetic and teasing. "I remember you."

"Who are you?"

"Shh." He held a finger to his lips, looking around.

Suddenly, men in black suits ran towards them, searching frantically, carrying a photo of a handsome young man Cheyenne vaguely recognized. Omari's hand tightened on her shoulder.

"He's hiding from them!"

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