Chapter 725 Going to Paris
Chapter 725 Going to Paris
On the second day of her cold war with Ignatius Leclair, Delphine flew to the Imperial City.
Desmond Wood came to pick her up. Desmond had now become a rising star of the new generation—acting while also singing, hailed as a versatile actor skilled in both singing and dancing.
To this day, Delphine didn’t dare listen to Desmond’s singing, afraid it might leave her emotionally scarred.
"Delphine, over here." Donning a baseball cap, sunglasses, and floral shorts, Desmond deliberately altered his voice while waving at her. He stepped up to help her with her luggage, cautiously scanning the surroundings, and urged in a low voice, "Move quickly; if my fans spot me, we won’t be able to escape. You have no idea how famous I am now."
Seeing this, Delphine couldn’t help but laugh and said, "Dressed like this, who could possibly recognize you?"
Desmond rolled his eyes dramatically, just about to say something when a group of young, pretty girls gathered around.
"It’s Delphine!"
"Delphine, can we have your autograph? I love your movies so much."
"It really is Delphine!"
Pushed aside, the floral-short-wearing rising star’s face smarted from the humiliation. On the way back, Desmond slumped lethargically in the back seat, feebly wailing, "Why can they only see you but not the dashing and suave me? Delphine, my heart is broken—I need a hug filled with love!
Seeing his clownish antics, Delphine smiled faintly and ignored him.
Desmond immediately deflated, but before long, he regained his usual exuberance and exclaimed excitedly, "Tonight, Finnian said he’s hosting a dinner to welcome you—you think I could book the most expensive hotel? They require reservations three months in advance, but Finnian can pull some strings. Delphine, you absolutely can’t miss this."
"I have plans tonight—hosting a dinner for someone. It’s not convenient for you all to join," Delphine replied bluntly.
Desmond instantly clutched his chest, crying dramatically, "We’re a family! How is it not convenient? Delphine, you’ve changed."
"It’s a dinner for Professor Turner. Finnian’s presence would be inappropriate, but you can come along," Delphine said with a laugh.
"No way, I refuse to be a third wheel." As soon as Desmond heard Finnian couldn’t make it, he realized his dream of a lavish dinner was dashed, and he began sighing dejectedly.
After dropping off her luggage at a little villa, Delphine headed to the university. Cassius Turner had a lecture, and she quietly slipped into the last row of the classroom, sitting there silently as the prestigious young professor delivered his lecture.
Standing at the podium, Cassius glanced at her, his gaze deep, and his French grew even smoother and more elegant.
"I thought you weren’t coming to the Imperial City anymore," Cassius said after the lecture as he walked alongside her on the campus green, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"I still have old friends in the Imperial City," Delphine replied with a lowered smile.
Cassius’s gaze held a trace of complexity—so, in the end, he was relegated to the status of an old friend.
"I’ve prepared all the documents for you; you should be able to apply for graduation once you get back," Cassius said with a gentle and refined smile. After a brief pause, he hesitated but still asked, "Is he good to you?"
Delphine nodded slightly. Cassius’s eyes dimmed a little, but he quickly smiled and said, "If you’re ever in the Imperial City, call me anytime—I’ll always be there for you."
"Alright," Delphine said with a smile.
After picking up her documents, Delphine invited Cassius for Hunan cuisine.
Outside the Hunan restaurant, a man sat in a Maybach, his handsome face betraying no emotion as he leaned against the seat, silently brooding.
Maximilian hung up the phone, cautiously saying, "Miss Delphine booked a flight to Paris for tomorrow afternoon."
"Book the same flight to Paris," the man said in a low voice, his thin lips tightening with a touch of frost.
Maximilian quickly set about booking the flight but grumbled as he eyed the Hunan restaurant, thinking about how they’d been out since morning. All he’d eaten was a boxed lunch, and Mr. Leclair had only had a cup of coffee.
Clearly worried sick, he’d followed her all the way here, yet refused to say anything. Truly, a tortured soul.
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