"Miss Devereux, Mr. Kingswell requests that you move to a different place." Charlie mentioned the name of a hotel. Eloise knew these people were programmed to only listen to Isidore, so without saying a word, she let them move her luggage into the car.
"He didn't say anything about imprisoning me, did he?" she asked with a deadpan face. Charlie felt a little awkward, "No."
Eloise stepped out and found a café to call Lysander. In the South, if she wanted to gather information, she could only place her hopes on someone like him, who was well-connected with the upper echelons. When Lysander arrived, he didn't elaborate on what he had been doing the past two days. Instead, he got straight to the point: "Mrs. Brown is done for."
He explained that Mrs. Brown, on the surface, appeared to be helping the wealthy second-generation heirs with matchmaking, but in reality, she was profiting from both sides. As the relationships deepened, she would also extract resources to provide for her husband. Her husband's business had illegal elements, and recently, due to an anonymous tip-off, it was exposed, and the whole family had been taken into custody.
"The people who took her down have some serious power. Her youngest son, studying abroad, even had his tuition and living expenses accounts frozen. Life truly is full of twists and turns," he said with a sigh. Eloise felt a bit complicated after hearing this and wasn't sure what to say.
Lysander didn't specify who was behind it all, but they both knew all too well. He waved his hand, bringing Eloise's attention back to him. "I've been running all over the place these past couple of days. I'm exhausted. How about we go get some exercise?" He took her to a tennis court.
Eloise had only played tennis as an elective in high school for two semesters, and she was often the one getting extra practice for playing badly. She didn't expect to be able to rally back and forth with Lysander, even winning a few points here and there.
After breaking a sweat, Eloise felt a bit lighter. The two of them walked outside the court to grab a drink. Lysander spoke, seemingly casually, "He seems to care quite a bit about you." Eloise felt silent for two seconds, then curled her lips. "Is that called caring? He's just wielding his desire for power, nothing more."
Seeing the stubborn look on her face, Lysander chuckled. "Isn't that a good thing? It's because power has the magic to decide life and death that people will stop at nothing to attain it." He winked playfully. "By aligning with Isidore, you could also enjoy a bit of freedom, using his power to your advantage."
Eloise kicked his calf. "Don't think of me as that kind of person!" He dodged. "You don't want to?" Eloise sighed. "What I really want... is to travel the world once I have enough money!" Lysander was taken aback for a moment, then smiled. "Likewise."
He tilted his head back and gulped down his drink, then squeezed the can tightly before tossing it into the trash can with precision. Eloise hesitated for a moment before asking, "Last time, when you were at odds with him like that, he won't do anything to you, right?"
Sometimes, Eloise felt that Isidore wasn't entirely unreasonable, but at other times, she wasn't so sure. The extreme imbalance of status and power often blurred her judgment of him.
Lysander raised an eyebrow. "I'm a law-abiding citizen with no criminal record. What could he possibly do to me?" After spending more than half a month together, she should know that this person often walked the fine line between right and wrong. Eloise's lips twitched. "Now that you mention it, I'm even more worried."
"Worried about what?" he smiled, his gaze turning somewhat cold as he looked at the water bottle in his hand. "I'm not helpless either." Seeing his nonchalance, Eloise felt the need to sound a warning. "Isidore is a very petty person! He's gloomy, and his methods are ruthless..."
"Is that so?" Lysander winked at her, then reminded, "Turn around." Eloise turned and saw a dark, gloomy face, her scalp tingling with unease. How was he everywhere she went?! Was he her shadow or something?!
"What I just said... was about a classmate from elementary school. He happens to have the same name as you, well... well..." She tried to explain, but her words only made things worse. Isidore had clearly just finished handling some business, still wearing a sharp suit at the sports venue.
He didn't get angry at Eloise, instead casting a disdainful glance at Lysander. "Is it fun to tease a young lady all day? Who's pretending to be powerful?" Lysander looked back at him. "Quite interesting, aren't you getting impatient?"
Isidore's gaze grew increasingly terrifying, but before he erupted, he merely swept a light glance over, resting it on Eloise. "Come with me to a banquet tonight." Lysander placed an arm in front of her, lightly lifting his chin toward the court. "Defeat me, and I'll let her go with you."
Eloise almost jumped up. "Why are you deciding for me?! Your skills are so bad, you can't even beat me. Isn't he sure to win?" Lysander, however, just smiled. "Don't worry."
Isidore changed into a tennis outfit—blue top, white trousers—which made him look broad-shouldered and long-legged, exuding a refreshing aura. Before he looked over, Eloise quickly shifted her gaze, pretending to be distracted, as if she were examining her surroundings.
She hadn't expected Lysander's awful skills to actually be used to "tease" her—he not only played agilely, but his technique was superb. The ball flew back and forth on the court, leaving Eloise dazzled.
All she could hear was the "thump, thump, thump" of thunderous sounds, the ball flying back and forth across the court, leaving trails of illusion in its wake. The two had been battling fiercely for quite a while, neither giving an inch, until the intense exchange suddenly halted. Then, Eloise heard a muffled grunt.
What happened? She looked over at Isidore in shock—he was half-kneeling on the ground, propped up by his racket, one hand clutching his chest in pain. It was the spot where he had been injured earlier, and the fast-flying ball had just struck it.
Eloise widened her eyes and looked at Lysander. He walked over to the net and slightly bent down. "Sorry, I misfired. Are you okay?" After seeing the fleeting expression on his face earlier, Eloise seriously doubted the authenticity of the word "misfired."
Isidore propped himself up with his racket and said coolly, "One more set." Eloise, eager to say something, hesitated and ultimately swallowed her words.
This time, Isidore was highly focused, with a clear goal in mind. In no time, he slammed the tennis ball into Lysander's knee, causing him to stumble forward and awkwardly kneel, clearly disoriented. Eloise stood up. "Enough!"
Lysander gasped in pain, struggling to get up for a moment. When Eloise walked over to help him, he smiled wryly and said, "No clear winner yet. Whether you go to the banquet with him or not, you decide for yourself. As your lawyer, I'd advise you to refuse."
As he said "decide for yourself," before Eloise could speak, Lysander cut in. "I'd advise against going. This guy, heh, is dangerous." Not to mention, Isidore's expression was becoming increasingly "dangerous," with the veins on the back of his hand gripping the racket visibly bulging.
"Are you not convinced?" Lysander turned to him, his tone light but deep, "Elly chose me during the blind date, do you dare to do what we did in that session and share about your family background and past experiences?"
His gaze turned dark. "How about you start by telling us how your father passed away?"
Listening to the absurd conversation, Eloise felt a rising unease, especially as she began to sense that Lysander was subtly pressing on Isidore's sore spots. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Isidore's face was still taut, and in the harsh fluorescent light, he seemed to lose some of his color.
Eloise quickly dismissed her unease, convincing herself she must have been mistaken. She just wanted to pull Lysander away. "Stop talking nonsense, let's find somewhere to treat your knee!" Isidore's gaze felt like two swords piercing her back, but he didn't speak or call her out.
His tall, strong frame stood rigidly, yet somehow, he looked like a little animal abandoned and left behind.
Eloise asked the court staff for a bottle of anti-inflammatory medicine and handed it to Lysander, telling him to apply it himself. For a moment, she couldn't shake the lingering feeling of resentment toward Isidore, whose brief pale expression had left a mark on her heart. Lysander glanced at her before looking down at his knee: "You wouldn't really be falling for him, would you? Tsk, tsk, little girl, so naive."
Eloise turned around: "What did you say?" Lysander's tone turned serious. "Don't forget who he is. Experience has shown that being close to him only leads to a terrible end." Eloise wanted to ask, "How do you know?" but she quickly realized the question was pointless. With a scowl, she replied, "Stop worrying about it!"
He shrugged. "True, anyway, he's about to be taken down soon."
