"Really?" Shelley was overjoyed, but immediately, she looked at Zayn timidly. "Zayn, is that okay?"
Before Zayn could say anything, old Mr. Giblo interrupted, "There's no need for his consent when you have mine."
"Thank you, Grandpa." Shelley made a face at Zayn and helped old Mr. Giblo into the villa.
Behind them, a few bodyguards were unloading the luggage while Benard and the others went up to help them with their work.
Zayn took a glance at Carla's room on the second floor.
Carla hurriedly drew the curtains and backed away to a corner. What should I do? What if Mr. Giblo insists that Shelley stays here?
Does Mr. Giblo know about me?
If he does, will he pick on me together with Shelley?
Carla walked back and forth in her room, unable to calm the storm in her mind.
What should I do?
Will Zayn send me away in secret when they are asleep?
While she was deep in her thoughts, she heard footsteps approaching before coming to a stop in front of her room.
Carla felt her heart tightened. Walking barefoot on her toes, she headed toward the door to listen to the movements outside.
Shelley's voice could be heard. "Zayn, I want to stay in this room."
Judging from the silhouettes she saw through the gap below the door, she knew that there were many people standing outside of her room.
Zayn rejected her request indifferently. "No. Choose another room."
"Why? I want to stay next door to you." Shelley acted coquettishly to coax the man into giving his consent.
Carla knitted her brows as she held her breath, listening attentively to the movements outside.
Does Shelley know I'm here? Is that why she requested to stay in this room?
Zayn won't agree, right?
His coat and shoes are still in my room, not to mention his stuff in the washroom.
One would know their relationship from the way she looked now and the layout of her room.
How am I going to deal with this mess?
"That room is also next to mine, so you can stay there." Zayn pointed at the other room beside his.
Shelley smiled and nodded. "Alright. Grandpa, I'll go unpack my luggage."
"Go ahead." Old Mr. Giblo took a glance at the room before turning to Zayn and said, "Let's talk in your room."
Zayn tried to decline, "It's so late. Don't you have to rest?"
"It's only for a while." Old Mr. Giblo walked into his room directly.
Benard instructed a maid to prepare old Mr. Giblo's favorite red tea.
As reluctant as he was, Zayn had no choice but to follow his grandpa into the room.
Carla supported her waist as she headed to the balcony to eavesdrop on their conversation.
The balconies of hers and Zayn's room were connected, so she could hear what they were saying as long as they didn't close the door.
"Leave us, " ordered old Mr. Giblo.
"As you wish." Benard and the maids backed out of the room immediately.
"Please have some tea, Grandpa." Zayn brewed a cup of tea using high-quality tea leaves for old Mr. Giblo.
"Alright." Old Mr. Giblo took a sip of his tea and sighed. "Brewing tea needs technique, and you're quite bad at this. What a waste of tea leaves."
Zayn said, "I'll look for a tea sommelier tomorrow."
Old Mr. Giblo replied indifferently while looking at the tea in his cup. "No need. I've informed my personal tea sommelier to come here tomorrow."
Zayn was stunned for a moment before he asked, "How long are you planning to live here?"
"Why? You don't want me here?" Old Mr. Giblo said in an icy tone while his expression turned grim.
"No…" Before Zayn could finish his sentence, old Mr. Giblo decided to cut to the chase and asked, "Are you scared that I'll treat that woman badly?"
In the room next door, the woman hiding beside the balcony door trembled as she felt fear gripping her heart when she heard his words.
On the other hand, Zayn remained unfazed. "You've got a great deal of business to attend to, so I know you're not here for such a trivial matter. Did Aunt look for you?"
Old Mr. Giblo's tone became stern and cold. "Hmph! You still regard her as your aunt?"
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