Facade of Love (Yvette Scott and Idris Young) novel Chapter 144

Chapter 144 Breakfast Invitation 

I could not make heads or tails of it, so I let the matter drop. I hopped into my car and drove back to the Scotts‘ Residence. The next morning, as I stepped outside, I was caught off guard by the sight of a towering man standing by a black McLaren. It took me a second to register who he was 

He caught sight of me, his deep gaze locking onto mine. His expression was unreadable, his pasture tall and commanding. He closed the distance between us, stopping just a yard away, “Got time for breakfast?” he asked, his voice a deep, smooth rumble that seemed to pull at me. I was speechless… 

1 had been asked out for lunch and dinner before, but a breakfast date? That was a new one. Idris sure 

had a knack for the unconventional. 

We had to pick a time to hash out the post–divorce details, and this was as good a time as any. Sure, talking about splitting up at the crack of dawn might be bad luck, but getting it over with early had its perks. 

I gazed up at Idris, who loomed a good head and shoulders above me, and gave hini a nod. “Okay.” 

The car ride was silent. Maybe we had run out of things to say to each other, so we just sat there, wrapped in an eerie calm. 

Half an hour later, we pulled up to a private garden with a charming two–story house nestled inside.. Only someone with deep pockets would build such a peaceful spot in this expensive slice of the city. 

Idris led me upstairs to a quiet corner table. He glanced at me. “Hungry?” 

I shook my head. Who could stomach food at this hour? 

He did not press and just told the waiter, “Something light, please.” 

The waiter nodded and disappeared. 

The silence deepened, hanging heavy between us 

“Feeling any better?” He broke the quiet. 

His question caught me off guard. It took a moment to click that he was talking about the fever I had had after the whole mess with Locas’s death and Moore’s betrayal back in Macamer. It was nothing serious, and 

We had 

it now 

en each other alice then. How did he know I had been ill? 

Curiosity nagged at me, but loept it to myself and replied coolly, “Much better.” 

“Good to hear,” he said with a cal nod 

Iited my wh 

confusion spinning in my head, but I kept quiet 

The conversation had dried up, and silence settled over as again I stole a glance at the leafless 

camphor tree outside the window, its here branches casting a gloomy pall over the withered flowers 

and plants. The whole scene seemed to drag my spirits down into a pit of helplessness. 

Minutes ticked by, and then the waiter arrived with our breakfast. 

I stared at the table, now crowded with more than a dozen different breakfast dishes. Two people with a feast fit for an emperor–1 was amazed. 

I bir back a snarky comment and stayed silent. 

Idris slid a plate of Beef Wellington in front of me, his voice even. “This is good, give it a try.” 

I pressed my l*ps together, not making a move for the food, and met his gaze. “Young Corporation must have a ton of stuff for you to handle. If there’s something on your mind, just spit it out.” 

The thought of eating anything, especially a fancy breakfast, was the last thing I wanted early in the morning. 

He gave a barely noticeable frown, his dark eyes fixed on me, his voice as cool as ice, betraying no emotion “Let’s eat first, then talk.” 

I dropped my eyes, feeling totally at sea about why he would want to meet me at the crack of dawn. My mind raced through every possibility 

Lifting my head, I ventured, “Is there something about the divorce certificate that’s bugging you?” What I really meant was, did he want to change something? With the child gone and knowing him, he probably did not want to leave me shortchanged. Perhaps he was thinking of some financial 

compensation. 

I was not sure if it was my question or how I asked it, but his eyes darkened, a shadow of annoyance flickering across his face. He paused, then commanded with an edge of authority, “Eat your breakfast! 

His words were laced with a commanding tone that allowed no room for argument, and beneath it, I 

could hear a trace of anger. 

I just could not get a read on what was going through his head, and I did not have all day to keep up this standoff, so I went ahead and crammed the beef wellington he’d served me right into my mouth. Cheeks bulging with food, I barely tasted a thing as I mumbled to him, “Okay, I’ve eaten. Your turn to spill the beans 

He caught sight of my overstuffed face and a flicker of a smile danced in his drop dead gorgeous eyes. With a helpless shrug, he served up another dish and pushed it toward me, his voice dripping with fondness as he said, “Give this one a try”