No More Waiting, She Chooses Love novel Chapter 701

Mentioning my father, Dustin fell silent, acutely aware that his own father was responsible for my dad's death.

"I guess I'll never enjoy meatballs the same way again," I said, looking at the dish Phipps had prepared, my words lacking sincerity.

I couldn't let Dustin suspect Phipps. I was now certain that Phipps was Ernest in disguise, which meant he had a purpose.

Though I wasn't privy to his motives, my role was clear: cooperate and avoid causing trouble.

"Felicia, I'm truly sorry about your parents," Dustin said, displaying the expression of a man burdened by guilt.

His pretentiousness sickened me, but I placated him against my better judgment, "It's not your fault."

He managed a bitter smile, "Felicia, you're a kind soul."

Yes, foolishly kind. I once thought I could forgive the harm his parents inflicted on mine, but I've realized that's beyond me.

Not wanting to continue the conversation, I turned my attention to the creamy pumpkin soup before me, its sweet, milky flavor providing a semblance of comfort.

Phipps' culinary skills were undeniable, even surpassing Ernest's previous attempts.

When the time comes for him to admit he's Ernest, I'll have to ask if he spent these months perfecting his cooking instead of pretending to be dead.

"This is delicious," I complimented, under Dustin's watchful gaze.

"Do you have plans tonight?" Dustin asked, hanging onto every word I said.

"No, I was just speaking off the cuff," I replied, licking some pumpkin soup from the corner of my mouth.

Unaware of how enticing that must have looked, Dustin's gaze deepened, his Adam's apple bobbing, "How about dinner together tonight?"

After finishing the meal, I checked my phone and saw a message from Grant asking if someone was with me, hinting I might not be able to talk freely.

Clever of him, but instead of responding, I tried calling Deborah, only to find her phone out of service.

I texted her, but got no reply.

It seemed Deborah had indeed returned, despite her aversion and fears. Why would she willingly go back, especially to a place as notorious as the Sapphire Lounge?

Something was amiss, and the more I thought about it, the more uneasy I felt. After a few seconds, I decided to call Phipps, convinced despite his disguise that he was Ernest and the best person to look into this.

"Ms. Hudson..."

Hearing those words made me roll my eyes inwardly. He was playing his part, and I decided to play along, adopting a coy tone, "Mr. Phipps, could you do me a favor?"