Overprotected By My Tsundere CEO

Chapter 291 - 190: Michael Quinn’s Farewell, Master Pedro Knocks on the Door

Michael Quinn put on a thoughtful façade and said, "You know, it’s really been quite a few years."

"Can’t the food shut you up?" Nora Scott was annoyed.

"It can, it can."

Michael nodded understandingly, quickly shoveling food into his mouth, but his expression remained unserious as he winked at Nora with a smile spreading across his face.

For some reason, Nora suddenly felt that, though it was the same smile, at this moment he seemed to be smiling more brightly.

Not wanting to argue, Nora lowered her head and continued eating, chatting off and on with Michael.

Such an atmosphere was something Nora was used to.

Antonio Easton was a good cook, and when he was in good health, Michael would come over often for meals. As a child, he used to snatch food from Nora, but as he grew up, he toned it down a lot.

Nora seldom cooked. Though she knew how to, she had no real concept of portion sizes. She cooked too much rice this evening, enough for four or five people. Yet Michael, being accommodating, ate bowl after bowl, leaving only a little bit.

But after eating, Michael was unable to move, sprawling on the sofa like a corpse.

"You poor thing, looking like a fairy, even back when you were useless, had little boys and girls trailing you. Now you can even cook..."

Mumbling to himself, Michael suddenly raised his head and said to Nora, "You’re destined to be the kind of woman who brings disaster through beauty!"

"Pop."

Nora tossed a throw pillow at his face.

"Once you’re rested, clean up the dishes." Nora was blunt.

"Oh."

Michael stiffened his mouth but continued lying down without moving.

Having tasted Nora’s cooking, which turned out surprisingly good, he was in high spirits. Hugging a throw pillow, he yakked away to Nora, jumping from topic to topic with endless chatter.

Nora wandered around the house and finally tossed him a box of digestive tablets.

Taking the box from his face, Michael looked closely, then sat up, sighing softly, "You’ve changed..."

"..."

Nora shivered with goosebumps, glaring at him uncomfortably.

Michael sighed, "You’re no longer the cold-hearted fairy I once knew."

"..."

Unable to bear it, Nora threw another throw pillow at his face.

Would it ever end!

But Michael laughed heartily, tossed the digestive tablets in his pocket, quickly got up, and went to help Nora clean the table.

Normally, Michael would just move the dishes from the table to the kitchen. Having been pampered since childhood with his grandmother’s care, making one trip was already considered to be his best effort. But this time, he was unusually diligent, washing the dishes and putting them back in their places before coming out of the kitchen.

"Changed your ways?"

Seeing him come out of the kitchen, Nora raised an eyebrow at him.

Michael chuckled, "You can’t wash them, and there’s no one to help you. Should we wait until they grow mold?"

"Hmph."

Nora turned her head, sat on the sofa, and began flipping through TV channels.

Standing behind the sofa with his arms crossed, Michael watched TV for a while and, seeing all those glamorous celebrities, suddenly got sentimental, "Do you think I’ll ever see you on TV again?"

"Yes."

Nora replied with a single word.

Having assumed she had long given up on the entertainment industry, Michael raised an eyebrow in surprise, "People are still asking you to act?"

"Not only that, I’m working with Henry Chapman."

"It’s fine if you mess with unknown actors and directors, but why mess with a flawless best actor?"

"..." Nora’s eyebrows twitched and she gave him a warning look, her voice chilly, "Are you asking me to remind you what ’death’ looks like today?"

"Ahem."

Michael instantly retreated, quickly changing his expression from playful to sincere.

Nora: "..."

Michael looked around the room like a guest, shifting the subject, "You’re not selling this house, right?"

"No."

"Oh." Michael nodded in agreement, "It’s nice to keep it for memories."

"Mm."

Nora gave a noncommittal response.

At that moment, Michael’s phone rang—it was Bernardo Quinn calling to urge him to go home.

After hanging up, Michael checked the time and realized it was almost nine o’clock.

"Quinn’s rushing me, I should get going." Michael said, heading towards the doorway.

"Mm."

Nora replied and immediately got up. While Michael changed his shoes, she fetched some unfinished food from the fridge for him to take home.

Michael quickly packed them up.

As the door opened, Nora quietly watched him. As he walked into the yard with the food, she suddenly asked, "When are you leaving?"

Stopping in his tracks, Michael turned and smiled at her, "Tomorrow, no need to see me off."

Her eyes flickered for a moment. Nora remained calm and said evenly, "Safe travels."

"Alright."

Michael responded lightly, then added, "I’m leaving now."

"Mm."

Nora replied softly.

Michael then turned and walked away, carrying the food in one hand and waving goodbye with the other, not looking back into the cool night.

The rain had stopped at some unknown time. The night was tranquil, and the air, washed by rain, was slightly damp but exceptionally fresh and clean.

It was as if the whole world had been renewed.

*

With Michael gone, the once lively courtyard and house fell into silence again.

When the door closed, the wind outside and the distant noise were shut out.

Nora shuffled back in her slippers, and halfway through, she glanced instinctively at Antonio’s room.

The door and windows were open, letting in a chill breeze. The light from the living room illuminated the inside, revealing everything clearly.

Everything was just as it was before.

Sighing and shifting her gaze, Nora glanced at the still-on TV, hesitated, then decided not to turn it off. She went to take a shower.

With centralized heating off by late March, the indoor temperature was quite low.

After emerging from the bathroom in a thin nightdress and feeling chilly, Nora returned to her bedroom for a long coat. Still unable to sleep, she returned to the living room, sitting on the sofa to watch TV, flipping through channels—TV shows, news, variety programs—none of which caught her interest.

She couldn’t focus on anything.

The night deepened, and time slowly passed.

After midnight, Nora yawned, finally feeling a bit sleepy.

She got up, turned off the TV, and was about to head to her bedroom but stopped in her tracks. Lifting her eyes, she looked towards another bedroom, hesitated, then turned and started walking towards it.

The night air was cool, and as she reached the doorway, a cold gust hit her, leaving her momentarily stunned.

She paused, not going any further.

At that moment—

"Knock. Knock. Knock."

In the dead of night, there came a sudden knocking at the door.

The habit of leaving the front door slightly ajar allowed people to come and go freely, and the knocking came from the direction of the entryway.

Who could it be?

Nora paused in surprise, withdrew her gaze from the bedroom, turned, and walked suspiciously to the entryway.

Unlocking the door, she pulled it inward. The cool breeze blowing in made her squint. As she raised her eyes, she saw a tall and slender figure.

Pedro Langley was dressed the same as when they last parted, in a long black coat. His hair was disheveled and slightly wet from raindrops that clung in strands, his presence filled with a chilly aura. Yet, his dark eyes held strands of warmth.

?

For a moment, Nora thought she was seeing things.

After a brief pause, she heard the rain outside, sensed the dampness from him, and frowned slightly, "What brings you here at this hour?"

"I’ve been here for a while." Pedro replied with a slow smile, "I’ve been waiting outside for three hours, thinking you’d notice and come out, like a romantic rendezvous..."

Pausing, Pedro lowered his eyelids, sighed helplessly, and concluded, "Turns out I was overthinking."