The Female Leads Truly Loves You - Chapter 372: Not answering is the best answer

“Y-y-you’re the heir of Reyes Group?” Ian managed to stutter out.

“Yes. And I would prefer no one in Mor Co. figured it out. If I know Marco’s efficiency by the time we get back to the office my appointment as an assistant to the President of Mor Co. will be announced. At the same time all business registrations of Mor Co. will be moved to my name. All the directors will be informed of this but no one else.”

Camilla and Ian nodded in understanding.

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Cedric Reyes has a secret, he is the heir and eldest son of the rich and powerful Reyes clan. As tradition all heirs of their family have to go through a form of poverty training at the age of fifteen. They are left to fend for themselves with no contact and barely any money.

Since leaving, he's gotten married to Adrianna Herandez, the Treasure of the Hernandez clan. Adrianna's family had always looked down at him due to his humble origins, but Adrianna has always stuck by him. Treated badly by his classmates in the past, and his in law in the present. They are about to encounter the shock of their lives.

The Reyes Heir rules the country with his friends, the four princes, who are each from powerful and well respected families.

“Margaret, you’re the older sister, you have to give in to the younger one.” Because she had been born a few seconds before Elizabeth, those words clung like a curse to Margaret for the first 18 years of her life. Whether it was her beloved teddy bear, pretty dresses, Halloween candies, or parental love, if Elizabeth asked, she had to unconditionally yield them all up to her. Since young, Elizabeth had weighed down on Margaret like an enormous mountain and suffocated her. Fortunately she still had a boyfriend who had loved her for six years—Amster, the pack’s alpha. “You will be my wife and the future luna of the pack,” Amster promised.

Six years of companionship and Amster’s words had excited Margaret, who was turning 18 years old. She was going to welcome a whole new life today, but fate had played an enormous joke on her—Amster’s lover and fated mate turned out to be her twin sister Elizabeth! Margaret watched as Amster, who had said he loved her a second ago, exchanged a French kiss with Elizabeth in the next. Moreover, he also announced that Elizabeth as the luna. The only emotional sustenance Margaret possessed crumbled; once again what belonged to her had been snatched away by Elizabeth. What made things worse was when Amster begged Margaret to help Elizabeth entertain Wolf King Donald! All because Elizabeth knew nothing except how to wheedle and dress herself up.

Unable to refuse the request of her former lover, Margaret agreed to this. The gears of destiny began slowly turning at this moment. At the feast where Wolf King arrived, having worked hard without washing up for three days now, Margaret smelled an enticing scent. Betty, her wolf, was calling out happily for her mate. This was the smell of her mate! “My name is Donald, and I’m the king of werewolves!” Donald?! Wolf King! Margaret gaped. Her mate was actually the most powerful werewolf among them all! Margaret realized that her mate didn’t recall her s*xy and seductive younger sister. He only had eyes for her. She felt that she could believe in love again!

Traveling through the world of Detective Conan, Chi Feichi was sent to the hospital.

Tuesday.

Doctor: “What day is tomorrow?”

Chi Feichi: “Wednesday.”

Doctor: “Cough, tomorrow is Friday.”

Chi Feichi: “…”

August 21.

Doctor: “What day will it be tomorrow?”

Chi Feichi: “August 22nd.”

Doctor: “Cough, tomorrow is January 1st.”

Chi Feichi: “…”

When everyone thinks that the chaotic time is correct, and one of them cannot correctly identify and integrate into it, then this person is an outlier, a patient!

Once admitted to the hospital, it is as deep as the sea, and it is impossible to recover in this life.

Chi Feichi took a deep breath: “Old! Son! No! Do it!”

- Description from novelbuddy

“Coming live to you, from Cerou Street, this is MBP News, and we have an unfolding situation to report. Late last night, at approximately 3:00 AM, an explosive-like sound reverberated through this area, disrupting the sleep of residents and instilling fear in their hearts,” the news anchor, a striking figure, delivered the report with poise, standing before the camera amidst a bustling scene.

In the background, the blaring horns of ambulances and police vehicles disturbed the serenity of the beautiful morning light. Two individuals wearing protective suits, presumably forensic experts, held a stretcher carrying a charred body.

The news anchor, who had been reporting earlier, placed a hand on her ear, fitted with an earpiece, and looked visibly surprised. Her voice filled with urgency as she continued, “We have just received an update from our headquarters regarding the sole fatality in this unexpected incident. The victim of this tragic event is none other than Norman, the famous gigolo of Night palace.”

“My colleague, who was set to cover an event today at Nightplace, obtained this information firsthand from Countess Maria, who held a special place for Norman in her heart. Our focus this morning is on this breaking news,” the female news reporter continued amidst the chaotic scene, while Norman's charred body lay alone in the ambulance.

Meanwhile, in a different world, a young boy lay fast asleep with his head on the table. The sun, seemingly displeased with the boy's carefree slumber, cast its rays directly onto his face. Annoyed by the intrusion, the boy shifted his head in another direction, unwilling to be roused from his deep sleep.

*ZZZr Zzrz Zzrzzr* However, an additional source disturbed his sleep, filling the room with a buzzing sound. The boy furrowed his brows in annoyance, his eyes still closed. He searched his surroundings and discovered a glass-like slab. With closed eyes, he slid his finger across it and placed it near his ear.

“Hello...” he mumbled in his drowsy voice, which carried a hint of depth.

“Hey, Pissed-up Prat, where are you?” a voice laced with disdain emanated from the slab.

The boy, referred to as the “Pissed-up Prat” by the irritating female voice, recognized it as a voice he heard frequently but couldn't recall its owner. With his eyes still closed, he inquired, “Who is this?”

“What do you mean, 'who is this'? Wake up, come home, or eat shit for breakfast if you prefer!” the voice behind the transparent slab retorted before falling silent.

The boy, still not fully awakened, gazed at the half-opened glass slab with a mixture of confusion and surprise. As his eyes darted around the room, he became increasingly shocked.

As he recollected the fragmented memories from the night before he lost consciousness, his gaze fell upon the entrance of the shop. Once old and damp, it now bore a different appearance. While not transformed into a luxurious space, it had undergone improvements compared to its previously dilapidated state.

The shop took on a rectangular shape, with one longer side adorned with wooden shelves intricately patterned. Rows of empty glass jars lined these shelves. On the opposite side, there was another wooden shelf, also displaying empty jars. Towards the beginning of the counter, where the boy had been sleeping, there stood a peculiar machine.

Confusion etched across his face, he murmured to himself, “Whose shop is this?”

In response to his question, a mechanical voice resonated in his mind.

[The Omnistore belongs to you, host.]

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