Chapter 1177: Chapter 1177: Which Law States That I Have to Like You Chapter 1177: Chapter 1177: Which Law States That I Have to Like You A night of sweet dreams.
Baron Lawrence was awakened by a phone call, and only after being startled awake did he realize that it was already daylight outside.
Damn it. When had he fallen asleep last night?
He sat up from the sofa, unable to recall the specific moment he fell asleep the previous night. He looked up and saw Enna Clarkâs study still displayed on the wall.
There was no one in the study now; she must have gone to sleep.
Had she left the video running all night last night?
He rubbed his temples, which were throbbing with pain, picked up his phone, and noticed that the battery was nearly dead.
On the screen, incoming calls were still flashing incessantly.
He answered the call, âSpeak!â
âLord, itâs time for the itinerary you scheduled earlier. What do you thinkâŠâ
Baron Lawrence glanced at the quartz clock on the wall, it was already nine in the morning.
He had a military district meeting this morning and had to be there by nine-thirty.
âIâll be there immediately!â He hung up the phone decisively, put down his phone, changed his clothes in the cloakroom, and then left the house with his phone and coat.
He didnât notice that as soon as he stepped downstairs, someone saw him and immediately placed a call to a guest room in the Lawrence Castle.
The person who had been prepared in the guest room set out immediately.
As soon as Baron Lawrence arrived at the castle gates, the driver promptly greeted him, âLord.â
âOpen the door.â
âYes.â
The driver pulled open the car door.
He straightened his suit button, was just about to get in, when suddenly, a stubborn voice carried over, âBrother Baron!â
That voice wasâŠ
Baron Lawrenceâs eyebrows were so furrowed they could have killed a fly!
Scarlett, as if oblivious to his displeased expression, jogged towards him while holding something in her hands, as though she had something to ask of him.
Before she reached him, suddenly, as if she had twisted her foot, her entire body tilted toward himâ
Baron Lawrenceâs instinct was to dodge, but the gentlemanly upbringing ingrained in his bones made him reflexively reach out his hand to support the person who almost fell.
Scarlettâs arm was steadied by his touch, saving her from a fall, and a look of joy spread across her lips, about to say thanks.
But the man who supported her, as if he had touched some bacteria, let go of her arm immediately, his face extremely displeased, âNext time youâre going to fall, fall farther away!â
Scarlettâs smile froze on her face, and the words of thanks that were on the tip of her tongue could not be spoken. Extremely embarrassed, she said, âBrother Baron, I didnât mean it. I accidentally stepped on a stone just now, thatâs why I almost fellâŠâ
âI donât care how you fall, just stay farther away from me next time.â
The tone he used was as mean as if he was saying, âNext time, go fall farther away and die.â
Scarlettâs pretty face turned a succession of red, white, then purple. After struggling to contain herself for a long time, she finally said with barely hidden grievance, âBrother Baron, what have I done wrong? Why do you dislike me so much?â
She looked as if she had suffered the greatest injustice, her long-held facade of strength ripping apart at that moment, as if she could no longer bear it. Her eyes brimmed with moisture, misty and fetching.
Even the driver, seeing her like this, couldnât help but feel sympathy, wanting to protect and care for her.
But the very person Scarlett yearned to be cared for showed no reaction at all. His face was as cold and hard as iron, his hawk-like eyes sharply watching her with no trace of emotional fluctuationâonly impatience, nothing but impatience, âWhich law stipulates that I must like you?â
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