Do You Like Him or Something?
Goodness! Are you telling me that the guy who’s been hanging around Anastasia is the heir to the
country’s foremost elite family and the president of Presgrave Corporation?
As the revelation dawned upon him, Oliver felt his legs grow weak. He couldn’t believe he had the good
fortune of meeting someone as important as Elliot under such circumstances. When he came to his
senses and searched up the list of billionaires in the country, he was surprised to find that Elliot’s name
was no longer on it.
However, he did come across an article that explained why some of the country’s billionaires had
mysteriously disappeared from the aforementioned list. Upon clicking into it, he saw that Elliot was the
first person mentioned in the article, and the only reason that was accorded for his disappearance from
the list was that he simply didn’t care about the status. Not declaring his family’s net worth only made it
all the more elusive, so much so that no one could even make a fair estimation.
Whatever the public had seen or heard about his wealth was but the tip of the iceberg; what lay
beneath the surface could be far more astounding than anyone might imagine.
Having read this passage, Oliver suddenly felt glad that he had not been so ignorant as to offend the
man earlier. Otherwise, he would be in a world of trouble.
Meanwhile, Anastasia plated the spaghetti after she had cooked it and brought it over to the dining
table, whereupon Jared told her happily, “Mommy, your laptop is back!”
She froze. Did Oliver drop by? She hurried into the master bedroom, only to see someone crouching by
the desk and assembling something with fervor.
It wasn’t Oliver, but Elliot instead.
He had shrugged off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves, and right now, he was setting up her
laptop.
“You do know what you’re doing, right?” Anastasia asked casually as she peered over his shoulder.
She wasn’t so much doubting him as she was concerned about having him work on such tedious tasks.
After all, he had grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth, and he was probably used to ordering those
around him.
“You have such little faith in me,” he pointed out sarcastically as he went about the work without so
much as sparing her a look.
She did not miss the hostility of his tone. “Mind telling me what’s the deal with the 28 calls you gave me
tonight? I actually thought something happened to you.”
Elliot’s gaze darkened just then, and he turned to glare at her furiously as he demanded, “Anastasia,
don’t you feel the slightest bit of guilt for treating me this way?”
Upon hearing this, she gaped at him speechlessly. Those who didn’t know better would have heard his
angry accusation and assumed that she had taken his money after toying with his heart. Alas, she was
innocent, and the only crime she could have possibly committed was missing his calls.
Anastasia looked at him awkwardly. “Sure, I didn’t pick up your call, but you don’t have to behave this
way.” For a moment, she thought he resembled a disgruntled housewife. The idea of it made her
sputter, and she laughed so hard that she had to hold onto the door frame to steady herself.
Elliot glowered at her grimly. If looks could kill, she would be dead by now. “I can’t believe you find this
funny.”
She knew that laughing at him like this was rather disrespectful, but it was highly entertaining to see
him crouching next to a laptop while trying to assemble its parts. At last, she swallowed her remaining
giggles. “Okay, I’ll stop, but you have to promise me that you won’t spam me calls just because I don’t
pick up the first time. I’d be scared out of my mind,” she said, showing that she truly had been worried
by his incessant phone calls. Then, she put on a concerned front as she added, “I made spaghetti. Why
don’t you have some before you set up the laptop?”
Elliot was admittedly hungry, and he was pretty much done setting up the computer anyway. He rose to
his feet and narrowed his eyes at her. “That guy earlier—what did you say his name was?” he asked in
a low voice.
“Oliver,” she replied, blinking.
“Where does he work?”
“At the building next to mine.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s a programmer.” She was a little baffled by his line of questioning. Is he actually interrogating me
right now?
Presently, Elliot was but one step away from Anastasia. His gaze darkened considerably as he bit out,
“Right. I’ll remember him.”
She finally understood why he had asked about Oliver. Her hand darted out and clutched his arm as
she pressed frantically, “Wait, what do you mean by that? You’re not going to pick on him, are you?”
“If he keeps pestering my woman, I’ll do more than just pick on him. He ought to watch his back if he
wants to stay alive.” There was a murderous gleam in his dark eyes as he said this, and Heather
thought she saw an insidious look flash over his handsome features.
When he was about to walk out the door, Anastasia felt the abrupt need to clear things up with him.
She hurried to the door and closed it to keep her son from overhearing this conversation. “Elliot, don’t
even think about hurting him.”
“You seem worried about him. What? Do you like him or something?” Elliot asked icily without a shred
of warmth in his obsidian, stormy eyes.
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