Falling For My Billionaire Savior - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

Xander said to Oliver, "I'm assigning you a task. After the party, take Ms. Gordon home."
Oliver sounded a bit eager. "Yes, Mr. Anderson."
"I'm feeling a little dizzy. I want to head back early. Then we'll be leaving now." I made a playful face at Xander.
Xander chuckled, "Alright. Mr. Cooke, make sure to take good care of our Deputy General Manager."
"Aren't you a bit too talkative?" I pouted, pretending to be annoyed. Then I turned to leave and signaled Oliver to follow.
We stepped outside, and as the wind blew past, I leaned toward Oliver, pretending the alcohol was hitting me. But just as he reached out to steady me, I stepped away.
I turned back with a sweet smile and tossed him the car keys. "Red Maserati in Lot A with a license plate ending in four eights. Be quick."
"Got it. Right away." Oliver caught the keys and jogged toward the company parking lot.
As his figure faded into the distance, the smile on my face vanished. I had just thrown out a little bait, and Oliver had already rushed to bite. I sneered inwardly. This scumbag's nightmare was about to begin.
Soon, the car pulled up. Oliver got out and came around to open the front passenger door. But I opened the door myself and slid into the back seat.
He awkwardly went back and got into the driver's seat. "Ms. Gordon, where do you live? I'll take you home."
"I'm not going home. It's just me there. Too boring. Take me to your place. Am I welcome?" I asked.
"Of course, you're welcome." A flicker of hesitation flashed across Oliver's face, but it disappeared almost instantly.
As he drove, he didn't waste a second laying it on thick with compliments. I played the part of the spoiled rich girl, enjoying his flattery while showing open disdain for his humble background.
When the car pulled into the neighborhood, I couldn't help but clench my fists. Jennifer was most likely living at Oliver's place. I wanted to see just how he'd explain her presence.
Oliver parked the car, and I stepped out, staring at the familiar apartment complex. Everything looked the same. Three months had completely changed me, but this neighborhood hadn't changed at all. I had become an utterly different person, but the place was exactly the same.
I looked around with mock curiosity. "Mr. Cooke, this neighborhood's pretty nice. Bet it wasn't cheap."
"It's alright. Three years ago, I made some major contributions to the company, so I bought this place afterward," he answered.
What a joke. He bought it with my money, and now it was all thanks to his "major contributions"? He really knew how to lie through his teeth.
I smiled, "That's impressive, Mr. Cooke. Truly admirable."
"You flatter me. Please, come in," Oliver replied.
We entered the building and stopped in front of a very familiar door. Oliver took out his keys and opened it. Jennifer, heavily pregnant, came to the door with a smile that vanished the moment she saw me.
I stood behind Oliver, watching Jennifer with a bright smile and tossed her a provoking look. But this was just the appetizer. The real debt—both principal and interest—was yet to come.
Oliver introduced me to Jennifer. "This is the new Deputy General Manager at our company, Ms. Katherine Gordon."
Then he turned to me. "Ms. Gordon, this is my cousin Jennifer Pearson. She's staying with me for the time being."
Jennifer's expression darkened immediately.
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Pearson." I stepped forward with a smile and extended my hand. I wanted to see how long she could keep it together.
"Nice to meet you." Jennifer forced a thin smile, barely brushed my hand, then bent over to get Oliver's slippers.
"Take care of our guest first. Where are your manners?" Oliver scolded, then quickly turned to me. "Please don't mind her. She's from a poor village and doesn't know any better."
Jennifer looked pitiful as she turned to get mine. With that belly, it clearly wasn't easy for her to bend over. I didn't feel the slightest bit bad and stood there while she helped me put the slippers on.
Then I added a jab. "Olly, is your cousin working as your maid? I really can't tell she's from a poor village. Is her husband living here too?"
A flicker of awkwardness crossed Oliver's face. He cleared his throat. "Please, come in. Jennifer, get Ms. Gordon some chamomile tea." He didn't take the bait, but I didn't mind.
As I looked around the living room, I commented, "Nice interior. Feels pretty cozy. Wow, that embroidery's huge. Did your cousin make it? She's got some serious skills."