A Twist of Fate

The three of us got into the car, Quentin and I sitting side by side in the back seat. He took off his sunglasses and mask, revealing deep amber eyes and a chiseled face.

Despite my preparations, my heart couldn't help but race at the sight of him!

No wonder Quentin could win over five wives. With his looks, anyone aspiring to be his spouse could probably encircle the Earth twice! Scratch that, maybe even the Milky Way!

But I quickly calmed my racing heart. Emotional clarity was important to me; I wasn't like the Zephyrine in the novel who accepted her partner having other wives.

I composed myself, resisting the shameful infatuation I felt for Quentin. I rolled my eyes at him and refocused on the plot.

Quentin: "???"

Not long after Zephyrine moved in, Quentin’s parents went abroad for work. Soon after, Quentin’s other admirers found out that Zephyrine Everlynn was living in his house. They made excuses to move in, one after another, preventing Zephyrine from making any advances.

Although Zephyrine was the first to live with Quentin, she was the last to successfully win his heart.

Me: ...

Even though I wasn't her, I felt an unexplainable sense of defeat.

After Auntie Irwin dropped Quentin and me home, she returned to the funeral. I sat on the sofa, lost in thought, unruffled.

The one feeling awkward was Quentin.

"Are you staying in that room now?" Quentin gestured toward a door.

I followed his finger, raised an eyebrow, wondering, how on earth was I supposed to know which room was mine?

To avoid exposing my ignorance, I glanced at Quentin and then headed upstairs into the room he pointed to.

Quentin, left downstairs: "..."

I surveyed the room and found some professional books on the desk. I confirmed this was indeed my room. In the novel, "Zephyrine Everlynn" was a student majoring in aircraft design and engineering.

Leaving the room, I saw Quentin carrying his suitcase upstairs.

In my mind, I thought, Quentin Bennett's family is incredibly wealthy; why is the male lead carrying his own luggage? This doesn't match the billionaire trope at all!

Watching Quentin Bennett retreating to his room, I stuck to my strategy of keeping my distance from him and returned to my own room. I had just looked at the professional books in the room and the campus card on the table. I deduced that I was currently in my senior year.

"Oh my god, I know nothing about this major. I've never studied such an advanced field..."

I absentmindedly opened a drawer and found the acceptance letter into the graduate program at the school.

I almost choked, nearly fainting! I hadn't even studied aircraft design and engineering in my undergraduate years, let alone considered graduate school!

Over the past few days, I had been researching at home, reading online Q&A sessions, trying to figure out if I could decline the offer after securing the spot.

On this particular day, Uncle handed me a document regarding the inheritance to review.

Zephyrine Everlynn's parents bequeathed her their entire estate due to their lack of other family. However, their careers as researchers, coupled with their dedication to charitable work, meant they had little in savings. All that remained for Zephyrine Everlynn was a house, a car, and...

Twenty thousand dollars?

The house was situated in the neighboring state where is New York. I pondered whether I should relocate there. The thought of depending on someone else's hospitality seemed pitiable.

Yet, my curiosity prevailed. I wanted to stay and witness the unfolding drama. A new suitor was expected to move in soon, and I was eager to observe the conquest process from a godlike perspective. After careful consideration, I decided to stay. If I grew weary later on, I could always return to New York.

"Alright, thank you, Uncle!" I expressed my gratitude sincerely.

"No problem. We will be going overseas tomorrow. Take care of yourself and Quentin. I've entrusted him to look after you," Mr. Bennett said.

"I'm already grown up; I don't need Quentin to take care of me," I replied.

"Haha, being three years older still means he should look after you. It's only natural," he said.

"Sure..." I knew Quentin Bennett probably didn't want to take care of me. He might even want to kick me out.

The next day, I finally realized how awkward it was to be living under the same roof as Quentin Bennett!

Fortunately, I had to go to school that day. After seeing Uncle and Aunt off at the airport, I hopped into the back seat and said, "Bennett, take me to North University, please."

Quentin Bennett glanced at me through the rearview mirror, wondering if I had just called him by his surname. He asked while starting the car, "Do you have classes today?"

I didn't even bother to lift my head. "No classes."

Quentin pursed his lips and fell silent.

Upon reaching the university, before Quentin Bennett could say anything, I opened the car door and said, "Thanks!"

I remembered that one of his suitors, Daniela Barnett, was a professor at this university. I didn't know which department she taught in, though. I checked the university's official website to see if I could find any information about Daniela Barnett.

Sure enough, I found her. She was a professor in the Geology department, 31 years old...

She's a bit older than I imagined! I furrowed my brows and pinched my forehead with one hand. "Seven years older than Quentin Bennett?"

How old are the others?

I became increasingly curious about the other suitors.

I went to find the dean, expressing my unwillingness to pursue a master's degree. The dean disagreed and insisted that I must provide a reason.

I made up a reason on the spot. "I want to pursue a master's degree in a different field."

"What field?" the dean asked.

In my own world, I studied geology. Moreover, I had just learned that Daniela Barnett was a geology professor. So, I blurted out an answer that I didn't know I would regret for the next three years: "Geology!"

The dean: "..."

Switching from Aircraft Design Engineer to Geology? Isn't that too drastic?

"Have you registered?"

"Not yet..."

There was a few seconds of silence in the air.

Then, the dean roared hysterically, "Then go register! Pre-registration has already started!"

Me: "..."

He scared me! He made me think I couldn't register!

In the end, the dean agreed.

I felt utterly helpless. I had been forced to register for this year's graduate school entrance exam! Moreover, I had been compelled to apply to North University. But...

I didn't want to study!

In my own world, I had already suffered through the difficulties of graduate school. I didn't want to go through it all again. Graduate school was too painful! It was even akin to sacrificing my life!

After registering, I drifted around the school aimlessly like a dried fish left out in the sun. After all, I didn't know the layout of the university. Finding the dean's office had taken me a considerable amount of effort.

When I reached the school gate, I suddenly remembered that I didn't know where Quentin Bennett's house was...

I wrestled with the decision of whether to approach Quentin Bennett, fearing it might raise suspicions! I worried he could misconstrue my actions as deliberate flirtation or, even worse, consider me foolish. I desperately wanted to avoid both scenarios.

Just as I felt utterly perplexed, a message from Quentin Bennett appeared.

— Have you made it home?

I promptly replied: Not yet!

Quentin Bennett responded: I'll arrange for someone to pick you up from school.

My reply: Alright!

In that moment, I almost burst out laughing!

Within half an hour, a car pulled up in front of me. A man stepped out and courteously opened the back door. "Miss, please."

Elegant!

I thanked him and got into the car.

Quentin Bennett wasn't present when I arrived. Surprisingly, I didn't mind. I hadn't been particularly looking forward to meeting him anyway.

With Uncle and Aunt at home in the past few days, encountering Quentin Bennett hadn't been too awkward. However, now that they were gone, I was uncertain how to act. If I hadn't confessed my feelings, everything would have been simpler. Unfortunately, I had already confessed to Quentin Bennett at this point in the story.

Why hadn't I entered this story sooner?

Quentin Bennett returned only after nightfall, carrying a bag of groceries.

He muttered, "I'll prepare dinner."

Cooking wasn't my forte, and the Bennett family didn't have any hired help. Everything was done by themselves. Now that Uncle and Aunt had gone overseas, these responsibilities fell on Quentin Bennett.

Feeling guilty, I stood up and offered, "Let me help."

Quentin Bennett eyed me suspiciously. "You know how to cook?"

"I can handle washing and chopping vegetables; I'm not clueless."

Once in the kitchen with Quentin Bennett, I suddenly remembered something from the book. Apart from Zephyrine Everlynn, Quentin Bennett's four suitors were skilled cooks. After moving in, they didn't allow Quentin Bennett into the kitchen, leaving the cooking to them.

I found myself eagerly anticipating the arrival of Quentin Bennett's next suitor. The problem was, I had forgotten most of the story's plot.

Quentin Bennett found my silence unusual. In the past, Zephyrine used to chatter away, but now, I barely spoke a few words to him.

Quentin Bennett broke the silence, "The holiday is approaching. Would you like to go somewhere for a vacation?"