?Chapter 392:
Xander let out a mysterious chuckle before saying, “You might not believe it, but rissa, as stoic and ruthless as she appears, is quite the crybaby when she’s behind closed doors. She’s been caught crying over not getting her way.”
“A crybaby, really?” Marissa asked, a trace of amusement in her voice.
“Absolutely. I’ve heard her crying more than once,” Xander replied. “She actually dreams of being her boss’s daughter, but her boss is not quite on board with that idea. That’s what sets off the tears.”
Marissa raised an eyebrow at this unexpected tidbit. The thought of rissa, so formidable in her professional role, bing so emotional was almost funny. It revealed a softer, more vulnerable side to her personality, highlighting her emotional ties to her boss.
While Marissa found humor in the situation, she also felt a bit perplexed. She had seen women aim to be their bosses’ mistresses, but craving to be considered a daughter? That was unusual.
Usually, parent-child rtionships are defined by blood. Maybe rissa could be seen more like a goddaughter?
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This thought made Marissa suddenly curious about rissa’s background.
“Did you manage to find out anything else useful?” she asked Xander.
“Nope, that’s it,” Xander replied, shaking his head. “rissa’s like Fort Knox. I had to resort to jokes and ying the fool just to get these snippets.”
“Ah, got it,” Marissa responded.
Shepsed into a thoughtful silence, mulling over everything she had learned about rissa.
Xander nced at her a few times, as if he was about to speak, but then he refocused on the road.
A momentter, when she hadn’t responded, he tilted his head to look at her once more.
Finally, Marissa broke the silence. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”
There was a hint of yful hurt in Xander’s voice when he responded, “You haven’t given me praise yet.”
Marissa paused, a smile creeping up on her face as she tapped on her phone. “There, you’re praised now!”
Just then, Xander’s phone vibrated.
He picked it up, his eyes widening with astonishment. “What? You’re giving me this much money?”
“Yep,” Marissa replied nonchntly.
Xander stared at the figures on his screen, his voice filled with disbelief. “A hundred million as a reward? Seriously? Oh, my! Are you feeling unusually generous today, Chief Instructor?”
“Weren’t I always generous?” Marissa countered.
“You were, but back then your generosity involved fists, not funds,” Xander retorted.
Marissa smirked, teasing him, “Do you want me to return to those days?”
“No, no, no. I definitely prefer cash,” Xander chuckled mischievously to himself. “I need to hide this money from Grandpa and my older brother. They’ll snatch it away if they find out.”
Marissa extended her hand expectantly.
Puzzled, Xander queried, “What’s that?”
“My card,” she exined, her voice even andposed.
With a reluctant sigh, Xander retrieved the sleek ck and golden card Marissa had given him earlier and handed it back to her.
He silently wished she would let him keep the card as a token. The mere thought of the wealth it represented sparked a thrill of possibilities in his mind.
However, Marissa, keenly aware of Xander’s daydreams, firmly reimed the card. With eight billion in it, she wasn’t about to gamble with the mischief he might cause.
Though he had to return the card, the thought of one hundred million in his own ount lifted Xander’s spirits dramatically.
Half an hourter, they pulled up outside the Crystal Hotel, a seaside vi hotel owned by the prestigious Hoffman family.
This exclusive hideaway catered to the elite, promising the highest degree of privacy.
Though his car was far from impressive, Xander breezed through the security, his ties to the Hoffman family paving the way.
As he parked, he gestured towards the hotel and announced, “This is where my brother and rissa are supposed to meet.”
Then, ncing out excitedly, he nudged Marissa. “Look over there! That’s rissa!”
Marissa followed his gaze, looking out the car window
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