Masked In Nobility: Secrets Of Mrs. Chavez

The next day, as instructed by Winona, Layla headed to Argrol University to find Yvette.

The plan was set: Layla would lure Yvette out to a remote area, where they’d hired some rough types from Seacrity’s underworld to lie in wait. Once Yvette arrived, she would be trapped like a sitting duck.

Not willing to risk any failure, Winona and Layla had recruited twenty or so burly men. Winona had seen Yvette with a gun before and had no idea what other tricks she might have. They had to be ready for anything.

When Layla arrived at the physics lab, she spotted Yvette heading out. Yvette acted as if she didn’t see her, about to walk past without a glance. Quickly, Layla called out. “Yvette! Hey, Yvette!”

Yvette paused, turned, and saw Layla motioning to her in a suspiciously discreet way. “Do you need something?”

After scanning their surroundings, Layla approached with a soft, apologetic tone. “Yvette, I’m here to apologize. I realize now how wrong I was yesterday–I was being petty and thoughtless. It’s been weighing on me, so I came here specifically to make things right.”

Layla’s voice was soaked with fake sincerity, her eyes even misting up slightly. Yvette raised an eyebrow, her response as indifferent as ever: “Mm–hmm.”

Seeing Yvette’s blank face, Layla was fuming inside but couldn’t show it. She had said so much and even admitted her mistake, but Yvette didn’t respond at all.

Layla thought, ‘I’ve made myself small and played nice. Did Yvette really have to be so cold?‘ Layla forced herself to continue, “Yvette, I really mean it. Can I buy you a coffee, just to show I’m sorry?”

Layla cautiously made her request, hoping Yvette would agree with a nod. Yvette stood there with her hands in her pockets, her gaze cool and unfazed.

After an awkward pause, Layla added hastily, “Or maybe… I know you love desserts. I had fresh ingredients flown in just for you.

“I’ve got a renowned chef waiting to prepare them at my villa outside town. It’s my way of making it up to you.”

Layla’s nerves were fraying as Yvette’s silence stretched on. Finally, when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, Yvette responded, “Fine. Lead the way.”

Relieved, Layla’s tension eased. She barely noticed the glimmer of amusement in Yvette’s eyes. Yvette thought, ‘Since some people wanted to put on a show, she might as well set the stage properly.’

Thinking she’d finally won Yvette over, Layla perked up. “Great, my car is just outside. We can head to the villa straight from here.”

The two walked out together, only to run into Charles, who had just returned to campus. The moment Charles saw Yvette, he came over, his voice firm. “Yvette, where are you headed?”

The moment Charles saw Yvette, he came over, his voice firm. “vette, where are your headed?”

Yvette nodded casually. “Oh, someone invited me for dessert.”

Charles glanced over at Layla, who was striking a pose she probably thought was seductive. He barely suppressed a smirk and thought, ‘What is Yvette doing with this woman?‘

Layla’s eyes lit up at the sight of Charles, taking in his chiseled features and impressive build. She tried her best to look coy, biting her lip in what she thought was an attractive manner. “Yvette, is this your friend?” she asked sweetly.

Neither Yvette nor Charles dignified her with an answer. Feeling the snub, Layla covered her embarrassment with a hasty suggestion, “We should go, Yvette. It’s getting late.”

Charles shot Layla a sharp look but held back, his face impassive. Yvette said to Charles, “I better go.”

Charles nodded. This woman didn’t seem trustworthy, but if anyone were to mess with Yvette, they probably wouldn’t know what hit them. He wasn’t concerned–a woman like this couldn’t harm Yvette at all.

Charles watched as Yvette climbed into the black Jeep with Layla. Just before the door shut, Yvette shot him a look that only the two could understand. Instantly, Charles caught on.

Another fool was walking right into Yvette’s own trap. Charles wondered, ‘Why did people keep underestimating Yvette? Did she really look that easy to mess with?‘ Charles knew better. If Yvette wanted to play along, he’d let her.

Just as he turned to head back to the campus, Andrew rushed up, practically shoving a drink into Charles’s hand before hurrying to the library, muttering something about needing a raise. Charles chuckled, it was another day of hustling for that paycheck.

Meanwhile, inside the Jeep, Yvette remained glued to her phone, ignoring Layla’s presence. Relieved that her scheme was underway, Eayla’s nerves settled, and her previous humility vanished.

Peeking over at Yvette’s screen, Layla’s face twisted with a sneer at the casual game Yvette was playing–some sort of pet- raising app. She thought, ‘Seriously? What kind of person plays games like that?‘

Layla felt her confidence rise. World–class competition winner or not, Yvette was still playing “kiddie” games, nothing close to the high–end online games Layla indulged in.

Feeling surprised, Layla gasped dramatically, covering her mouth. “Oh my gosh, you play that kind of game? Isn’t that, like, for little kids? So childish.

“If you want something more grown–up, I can recommend a game or two. Of course, the ones I play have entry fees in the tens of thousands. Not sure you’d be able to handle that.”

Layla’s superiority was practically dripping from every word. The driver briefly glanced in the rearview mirror, wisely staying silent.

Yvette, however, had heard enough. Lifting her eyes, she turned to Layla, her face as cold as ice, lips curving into a smirk laced with menace. “You talk too much. Shut up.”

Layla’s mouth twitched, anger simmering beneath the surface. Just as she was about to lash out, her phone chimed. Suppressing her irritation, she glanced at it–a text from Winona.

Winona: [All set here. Where are you?]This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

Layla furtively typed her reply, leaving her phone away from Yvette’s view. She snuck a glance at Yvette, who seemed oblivious, eyes still on her game.

Layla: [Almost there. About fifteen minutes away. Don’t screw this up, or we’re both fmished.]