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From Sneers to Cheers: Anthea’s Ascent

Chapter 509
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Chapter 509

Anthea typed back: "Where are you right now?"

Sherman replied, "I live right next door to you."

"Seriously?" she shot back, adding a laughing emoji. "Seriously," he confirmed.

"Then cover to my room."

A minute later, Anthea heard a knock at her door.

Wait-he really does live next door?

She set her phone aside and walked over to open the door.

Standing outside was a tall, well-built man, his features half-shadowed under the crystal hallway light. His lips

were pressed into a reserved line, a quiet chill clinging to him, but at the corner of one eye, a tiny red birthmark

caught the light, matching the small cross ring on his finger.

A strange mix of priestly calm and devilish allure.

"You really do live next door?" Anthea asked, surprised.

He nodded, just barely. "Yeah."

Anthea had just showered. Her hair fell damp around her shoulders, and she wore

a silk camisole nightdress that showed off her pale collarbones and smooth skin,

the delicate fabric tracing elegant lines down her body.

The silk was thin, and Sherman, who stood a good eight inches taller than her, only had to glance down to catch

a glimpse of—

Something inside him seemed to explode.

Heat swept through him.

Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt

Look away, he reminded himself.

He shifted his gaze without missing a beat, keeping his composure. "I just moved

in today. Want to go grab a late-night bite?"

"Sure, but letchange first."

Sherman nodded again. "Okay."

Anthea closed the door.

Three minutes later, she reappeared. "Ready."

She'd changed into a plain white t-shirt, ripped jeans, and a pair of clean white sneakers.

The sharp edge from before was gone, replaced by a lively, youthful energy. She could make anything look good-

clothes seemed to calive on her. Sherman fell into step beside her.

"Where should we eat?" Anthea asked as she turned to him. "You're from Capital City, right? You must know the

best spots."

"I know a place nearby that's pretty good," he replied.

She nodded. "Lead the way."

As they stepped outside the hotel, a sleek luxury car rolled up to the curb.

The driver hopped out and greeted them respectfully. "Mr. Christensen."

Sherman gave a small nod. "lvy's Place."

"Yes, sir."

He opened the car door and looked at Anthea. "Hop in."

She slid Sherm

the back seat, and thoughtful as

ever shielded her heavel

bumping the roof with his hand.

The driver's eyes widened in surprise.

Was he seeing things? When had Mr. Christensen ever been this close to a woman-let alone this attentive?

And they were staying at the shotel.

Could it be that the Christensen family was finally about to welca young mistress?

At eleven, Capital City was just coming alive. Neon lights flashed everywhere, painting the night in dazzling color.

Before long, they turned onto an old street that felt as if it belonged to another era. Whitewashed walls, slate

roofs, cobblestone roads.

Every doorway had two little lanterns glowing out front, as if the place had slipped through time.

Anthea gazed out the window in curiosity. "Where are we?"

Sherman's voice was low. "This is the only historic street left in Capital City It's been here for centuries."

tal

Up front, the driver silently added: The whole street belongs to Mr. Christensen.

Sherman had bought the entire block when he was just twenty, pouring a fortune into preserving it.

Now, with property prices in Capital City soaring, this street was worth a small fortune-its value had

multiplied a thousand time

The car slowed and stopped in front of a traditional courtyard house.

Anthea stepped out and looked up.

Between two lanterns over the entrance hung a sign with three words embossed in gold: Ivy's Place.

"This is your great recommendation?" she asked, glancing back at Sherman.

He absentmindedly rolled the cross ring on his finger and stepped to her side. "Yeah. Let's head in."

She nodded. "Alright."

They walked inside.

The interior matched the outside-old-world charm everywhere.

Just then, an elderly woman with silver hair emerged from within. "Sherman, you're here."

"Evening, Lorraine." Sherman greeted her with a respectful nod.

Lorraine looked at Anthea, her eyes lighting up with admiration. "And who might this be?"

"Letintroduce you. This is my friend Anthea. Anthea, Lorraine's the owner here."

Anthea smiled politely. "Nice to meet you, Lorraine."

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