The Night I Left, He Turned Grey

Caleb Dalton rushed to No. 9 Norsen, crossing an unkempt, weedy lawn before entering the main hall.

President Cole was sitting on the sofa, leaning back with his chin slightly raised. His eyes glinted as he looked over, and two clumps of green herbs were stuffed up his nostrils.

Caleb Dalton’s heart skipped a beat.

’Who shoved two green onions up The Living Devil’s nose?’

"President Cole, what did you run into?"

Nathaniel Cole’s gaze was as sharp as a blade.

Caleb Dalton immediately shut his mouth. He stepped forward for a closer look and exclaimed in surprise, "Who used artemisia on you?"

’Definitely not President Cole himself.’

"Dr. Dalton." Leila Jennings emerged from the kitchen carrying a kettle of hot water, a hint of anxiety on her face.

The moment Caleb Dalton saw Leila Jennings, he understood. He smiled and said, "I take it this was Jennings’s emergency first aid for President Cole?"

Leila Jennings nodded. "Dr. Dalton, you can just call me by my name. I’ve already resigned."

Caleb Dalton was taken aback.

’What in the world is going on?’

He didn’t dare ask too much about his boss’s affairs. Caleb Dalton addressed her as Miss Jennings, not daring to use her first name directly, lest The Living Devil swallow him whole.

"Artemisia is a traditional Chinese herb. It does have hemostatic properties. In the old days, people who got injured would pick artemisia from the roadside, chew it up, and apply it to the wound," Caleb Dalton explained as he put on a pair of gloves, took a pair of tweezers, and removed the two "green onions" from President Cole’s nose.

Nathaniel Cole looked at Leila Jennings. "Is this the same artemisia you used to pick and sell as a child?"

Leila Jennings stared back, slightly stunned.

’He actually remembered something I mentioned offhand.’

Leila Jennings hummed in affirmation, her eyes drawn to his nose.

The bleeding had indeed stopped.

The blood on his philtrum had also been cleaned up by Caleb Dalton. The bloodstain on his collar had already dried. ’I’ll have to compensate him for the shirt.’

"What size shirt does President Cole wear?" Leila Jennings asked.

Nathaniel Cole had also noticed the blood on his clothes. He had a whole closet full of shirts at home.

Leila Jennings was sizing him up.

’A man who is 189cm tall usually wears a size 54 or 56 suit, which corresponds to a shirt size of 43 or 44.’

Leila Jennings guessed, "A forty-three?"

Nathaniel Cole said, "Forty-four."

A forty-three is a regular fit.

A forty-four is more of a muscular fit.

’Who is she underestimating?’

His gaze turned dark.

Leila Jennings, oblivious to the competitive glint in the man’s eyes, just nodded calmly, planning to buy him a size forty-four shirt as compensation.

After Caleb Dalton finished, she handed Nathaniel Cole a cup of hot water.

Nathaniel Cole didn’t see any honeysuckle in his cup.

’She’s quite protective of her things.’

He took a sip.

Leila Jennings then poured a cup for Caleb Dalton.

The hot water had just reached Caleb Dalton’s lips when Nathaniel Cole’s interrogating voice arrived right on cue. "When did you get Dr. Dalton’s contact information?"

Caleb Dalton: "..."

’The question wasn’t for me, but the warning was.’

’Dr. Dalton?’ This devil usually sounded like a death knell when he summoned him: "Caleb Dalton, get your ass over here!" "Caleb Dalton! Now." "Caleb Dalton! Faster!"

Each command was followed by the location of the latest disaster.

’When has President Cole ever so pleasantly called him Dr. Dalton?’

’Looks like I won’t be drinking this hot water anytime soon.’

Leila Jennings replied, "Last time, at the clinic."

Caleb Dalton quickly explained, "Miss Leila Jennings was President Cole’s secretary, and I’m his private doctor. We exchanged contact information to better serve President Cole, nothing more."

The explanation was very professional, but the last two words sounded a bit odd to Leila Jennings’s ears.

She didn’t give it much thought.

"President Cole, Dr. Dalton, please have a seat." Leila Jennings needed to go out and move her things.

Seeing that President Cole wasn’t pressing the issue, Caleb Dalton picked up his cup and was about to sit on the sofa. But before his butt could even touch the cushion, he was stopped.

"Get the two bags from the trunk."

Caleb Dalton: "?"

’I may be your private doctor, but Nathaniel Cole, we’ve known each other for twenty years! Can’t you treat me like a human being?!’

Leila Jennings immediately said, "There’s no need to trouble Dr. Dalton. I’ll get them myself."

Caleb Dalton’s eyes darted. He smiled and said, "Miss Jennings, let’s go together. Many hands make light work."

Leila Jennings: "Thank you."

The two had just turned around when a voice as cold as The Living Devil’s rang out again.

"Stop."

They both turned back.

Leila Jennings looked slightly puzzled, while Caleb Dalton wore a knowing smirk.

"Caleb Dalton will get them." Nathaniel Cole gestured for Leila Jennings to sit down.

Leila Jennings: "I’ll get them myself."

Caleb Dalton was still smiling.

Nathaniel Cole was helpless against Leila Jennings. He straightened his clothes, stood up, and snapped at Caleb Dalton, "You, sit down!"

"Yes, President Cole. You’re the one who told me to sit." Caleb Dalton sat down on the sofa, utterly content. He watched the two of them go outside and finally took a sip of his hot water.

Nathaniel Cole opened the trunk. Leila Jennings bent down to lift the bags, her curved figure right in front of him, making it look as if she were bending over in his arms.

His Adam’s apple bobbed.

He retracted his outstretched hand, bent down, and took the bags from her, their fingers brushing for a moment.

Leila Jennings’s fingers recoiled. She looked up at the man before her, only to see his cold, stern profile.

"Give them to me," the man’s voice was deep and steady.

Even holding two bags of bedding, Nathaniel Cole couldn’t suppress his air of nobility.

’He walks in as if he’s on a red carpet.’

Caleb Dalton clicked his tongue in amazement.

’President Cole, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, playing the part of a lackey and carrying things without a single complaint.’

Once they were in the hall.

Leila Jennings reached out. "President Cole, you can give them to me. I can carry them upstairs myself."

Nathaniel Cole glanced at her, then at their hands, which were about to touch again, and finally let go.

"Thank you, President Cole. Thank you, Dr. Dalton. I still have to unpack, so I won’t keep you for dinner today." Leila Jennings still knew how to say such polite things.

Nathaniel Cole understood she needed some time to settle in. He called to Caleb Dalton, and they left.

Caleb Dalton was forced into the driver’s seat. He asked, "Where’s your driver?"

"At his own home." Nathaniel Cole’s gaze remained fixed on Villa No. 9. Through the open main gate, he could vaguely make out the silhouette of Leila Jennings carrying the bags with both hands.

"Stop staring, your eyes are glued to her. President Cole, you could at least wait until she’s divorced..."

"She is." Nathaniel Cole shot him a look, silently urging him to drive.

It dawned on Caleb Dalton. "So you’re saying those two bags were all of her belongings?"

Nathaniel Cole nodded.

Caleb was astonished. "That’s it? Usually, the woman has more stuff in a house, and the man has less, right? When other women leave, the house feels empty. But with Miss Jennings, it’s like when she left, that Sinclair guy’s place would look exactly the same?"

’Actually, there were changes. Very subtle ones.’

’But given how little Sean Sinclair cared about Leila Jennings, he probably wouldn’t even notice.’

The thought irritated Nathaniel Cole. He sent a message to Zachary, telling him to gather all the files they had on Sean Sinclair and Sarah Lynch and to remember to bring them on the day of the bid.

...

「Sunday night.」

Sean Sinclair returned home. He opened the door to find the entire house restored to its usual clean and tidy state.

A joyful expression crossed his face; he thought Leila Jennings had returned from The Thorne Residence.

The house was dark. ’She must be asleep.’

He tiptoed to the bedroom door and pushed it open. Instead of turning on the main light, he navigated through the darkness by memory to the head of the bed and switched on the bedside lamp.

The warm yellow light illuminated a corner of the bedroom. Sean Sinclair looked toward the bed with gentle eyes, but the bed didn’t have the usual small lump under the covers.

It was perfectly flat.

The comforter was neatly arranged.

The smile on Sean Sinclair’s face vanished instantly, replaced by a deep frown.

’Leila came back, and then she left again.’

He sat on the edge of the bed, flipped on the main light, and pulled out his phone to call Leila Jennings.

It went through.

But Leila Jennings hung up.

Sean Sinclair was stunned once more.