TPCF 94

CHAPTER 94………………………..

As she asked for the most basic item on the menu, Anita wondered if this was really okay. How was this any different from staying at a hotel without paying?

She was absentmindedly cutting into her bacon when someone plopped down in the chair across from her.

“I can’t function in the morning without coffee.”

“…”

It was Phinean Nigel, perfectly dressed even at this early hour.

“Yeah?”

Anita replied halfheartedly as she cut her toast.

“Don’t you have anything else to say?”

Phinean was staring at her so intently that it was almost uncomfortable. Anita, who had just lifted a small piece of toast to her mouth, set it back down and searched for an appropriate response.

“This place really feels like a hotel.”

Phinean suddenly snorted and crossed his legs.

“What a funny thing to say. Of course it does.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lilliana’s family runs a hotel business. Judging by your face, you didn’t know that.”

“…”

“Lilliana’s probably going to inherit the Rivera Hotel too.”

“That place belongs to the Lifton family?”

Somehow, a steaming cup of coffee had appeared before Phinean, and he took a leisurely sip before answering.

“Do you not read the newspaper? Don’t bring up money in front of Lilliana. You won’t survive it.”

Anita rolled her eyes. She did read the paper—she just only skimmed the crossword and new book releases before tossing it aside.

“Anyway, the Liftons are working on some business deal with Robert Allen…”

“Who’s Robert Allen?”

Since she’d already been exposed as being clueless about current affairs, Anita decided to ask what she was curious about. She spread jam over her toast as she spoke, prompting Phinean to give her a pitying look before replying.

“Daniel Allen’s brother… Not that you’d know who Daniel Allen is either. That family sticks their hands into anything that makes money—military industry, oil, even shipbuilding lately.”

“Mhm.”

She regretted asking. Now she was getting a full lecture she didn’t really care to hear. Anita nodded along, pretending to listen.

“Actually, I heard something pretty interesting about that family. Apparently, Robert Allen had a son—”

“Good morning.”

Startled by the sudden voice behind her, Anita dropped her toast. Phinean, who had been in the middle of his story, looked visibly annoyed at the interruption.

“What were you two talking about?”

“Oh, just this and that.”

Anita picked up the toast that had rolled across the tablecloth and set it aside. Meanwhile, Lilliana took the seat next to her.

“Anita, I have something very serious to tell you.”

“Well, isn’t this a rare day—Lilliana Lifton being serious.”

“Shall we kick this beggar out and talk just between us?”

Phinean’s expression cracked. Calling him a beggar while he was sitting there in what was probably an expensive tailored suit—Anita was starting to get a real sense of just how wealthy Lilliana was.

“Phinean, I’m sorry, but could you…?”

Anita carefully asked him to leave. Considering she was staying at Lilliana’s villa free of charge, she felt obligated to comply with most of her requests.

“Ah, yes, Your Highness. The beggar Phinean Nigel shall take his leave.”

With a clearly sulky tone and an exaggerated bow, he left the table.

“So, last night I actually…”

Before Lilliana could finish, a waiter appeared behind her, fidgeting nervously. Seeing how anxious he looked, Anita gestured toward him. Lilliana turned and snapped,

“What?”

“The master is waiting for your call, miss.”

“Later.”

“Now. He’s waiting now.”

The waiter emphasized the word “now,” suggesting some urgency. Lilliana sighed deeply and turned back to Anita.

“Sorry. I’ll tell you later. I really have to go right now.”

Anita nodded. It was Lilliana who had something urgent to say, after all—Anita herself had nothing pressing to tell her.

As she popped a cooked tomato into her mouth, she watched Lilliana’s retreating figure hurry away.

What could she have wanted to say?

She couldn’t help but wonder—it really had seemed urgent.

Even after finishing breakfast, Lilliana didn’t return. Apparently, she had something important to take care of. By the time everyone else had left their tables, Anita was still sitting there, lingering.

It wasn’t so much that she was waiting for Lilliana; she just liked the warm southern sunlight and the crisp air that only mornings could bring.

After idly touching her now-cold teacup, Anita finally decided to get up. She had nothing better to do, so she thought she might as well go for a walk down to the beach.

The beach lay beneath a cliff, and for a moment she worried she might have to climb down it—but fortunately, there was a staircase leading from the villa to the shore. Before descending, Anita stomped on the metal stairs a few times to make sure they were stable.

They seemed solid enough.

Relieved, she started down. Seeing the cliff face head-on was surprisingly novel. As she was observing the rock’s patterns, a gust of wind suddenly hit her. Anita stumbled and barely managed to grab the railing.

No wonder the beach was empty—it was probably too dangerous. The railing was low, even for her short height, and the steps were barely half the length of her foot. She was seriously considering turning back when she heard footsteps—someone was coming down the stairs. She pressed herself against the side to make room.

“Is falling to your death some kind of dream of yours? Why are you standing so dangerously like that?”