Chapter 92

Chapter 92:

That afternoon, Ector sought out Fernanda, his expression calm but deliberate as he asked if she’d like to join him in addressing Ava’s situation.

“Someone from the Ross family reached out,” he began. “Hunk’s secretary called, suggesting we meet in person to discuss things p>

Fernanda scoffed, her voice sharp with disdain. “What’s there to discuss? Are they looking for my forgiveness p>

“That’s precisely it,” Ector replied with a nod. “It’s a civil dispute. If you forgive her, things will be much easier. But if you don’t, the consequences could escalate p>

“Why should I forgive her?” Fernanda asked, a bitter smile curling her lips. “I’m human, not a saint. She tried to harm me—why would I forgive someone like that p>

Fernanda’s thoughts darkened as she recalled Ava’s repeated offenses. She had no faith that Ava had truly reflected on her actions. There was a strong chance she would strike again.

It seemed more fitting to let her spend some time in jail. Experiencing prison life might teach her a valuable lesson.

Ector studied Fernanda’s expression and nodded thoughtfully.

“Understood. I’ll handle the negotiations p>

“Thank you,” she said, her gaze softening as it lingered on him. “I appreciate everything you’re doing p>

Since her return, Fernanda had faced one challenge after another, and Ector had stepped in time and again to shoulder the burden. She wasn’t immune to such kindness and felt a genuine warmth towards him.

Ector offered a faint smile, sensing the subtle shift in her demeanor. It was a small but meaningful comfort.

That evening, Fernanda logged onto a live-streaming platform and found Neal mid-broadcast.

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After a moment of hesitation, she topped up her account and sent him a few virtual gifts. Caught in the heat of an intense team battle, Neal glanced at the screen. “Thanks p>

He squinted at the unfamiliar username, a random string of letters and numbers.

“Thanks to this new friend for the gifts,” he said.

Though her contributions weren’t massive in quantity, they were expensive enough to secure her position at the top of Neal’s gift leaderboard.

Scanning the chat, she noticed a comment. “Where’s Cutie today? Did she let someone else take the top spot p>

“It feels weird without Cutie. She’s been dominating the leaderboard for days p>

From the comments, Fernanda deduced that “Cutie” was likely another user.

Moments later, Neal’s stream erupted as an avalanche of gifts rolled in.

“The sugar mama is here p>

“Cutie shows up p>

“When will I ever be this rich? I’d settle for just a little of her fortune p>

As the digital gifts poured in, Neal’s chat exploded with excitement. Fernanda’s rank on the leaderboard dropped to second place almost instantly.

Her eyes narrowed as she clicked on the profile of the new leader—a pink anime avatar under the name “Cutie p>

So, Neal had a rich fan—how entertainingly surprising!

Cutie was leagues ahead, her contributions surpassing Fernanda’s by a tenfold margin before she finally stopped. A pink bubble encased Cutie’s comments, marking her privileged fan status.

“Hey there, I’m here!” the message read, punctuated with a playful emoticon.

Fernanda frowned. The cutesy tone, paired with the pink aesthetic, gave the unsettling impression of a child at play.

On screen, Neal had just taken a sip of water when he noticed the comment. He sputtered, coughing violently. He was baffled by this mysterious benefactor who had appeared out of nowhere, showering his stream with extravagant gifts every day without fail.

Neal had privately messaged her multiple times, pleading for her to stop. But her replies were always filled with cheerful emojis, offering no clarity.

Frustrated, Neal contemplated taking a break from streaming. If he went live less frequently, she might have fewer opportunities to send gifts.

Concerned, Neal had even asked the platform to ban her account, fearing she was a misguided minor. The platform, however, informed him that Cutie was registered as an adult, leaving them powerless to intervene. But each time he returned, Cutie inevitably appeared.

Neal had once invited her to join a game. It turned out to be a disaster—she was so terrible at playing that it was almost comical. The constant pressure from this overzealous benefactor left Neal drained, unsure of how to navigate the situation.

Meanwhile, Fernanda received a private message. The flashing avatar displayed Cutie’s signature anime-style icon.

Fernanda’s thoughts spun wildly. Was this fan reaching out to issue a warning? To stake a claim over Neal? Or perhaps to demand an explanation for her sudden interest in sending him gifts?

As her finger hovered over the avatar, her mind conjured countless possibilities. But when she clicked on it, the message was nothing more than a playful emoticon. Her brow furrowed. What was this?

Fernanda responded with a single question mark. The reply came back instantly: another cute emoticon. Frustrated, she typed a message, only to receive yet another cheerful image in return. For a moment, Fernanda considered that Cutie might only communicate in stickers and symbols.

Just as she prepared to close the bizarre conversation, a message arrived.

“How old are you? Where do you live? Are you male or female? Have you thought about marrying him p>

Fernanda stared at the screen, her eyes widening in disbelief. What on earth? She’d sent Neal a few gifts, and now marriage was suddenly on the table?

By this logic, had Cutie already planned out her future with Neal, complete with a house and wedding invitations?

Wait—did she seriously just ask if Fernanda was male or female? Was she implying Neal could marry a guy too? With an exasperated sigh, Fernanda logged off.

Cutie had left her utterly perplexed.

The next day, Fernanda visited the Esaham University library and, by coincidence, crossed paths with Neal and his dorm mates as they prepared to head out for food.

Curious, she asked Neal about Cutie, hoping for some clarity. Neal blinked in realization. “Oh, so that was you yesterday. Thanks for the support p>

The group was already envisioning the scene: Gifford, usually reserved and stoic, standing in front of a classroom, trying to engage students. The image was both hilarious and endearing.

Fernanda treated the four of them to a meal, feeling more connected to her soon-to-be classmates. Levi and Alex couldn’t stop laughing, thrilled with their unexpected good fortune.

Even before Fernanda officially joined the university, they had secured a promising friendship with someone destined to be a future star.

After borrowing a few books from the library, Fernanda caught a taxi home. When the vehicle stopped in front of Dawn Villas, she stepped out, only to find her path blocked at the gate.

“Miss Fernanda Morgan?” asked a man in a tailored suit. “Mrs. Ross would like to speak with you p>

Fernanda glanced towards a sleek black car parked nearby. The tinted window rolled down, revealing the poised face of a woman in the back seat.

It was Ava’s mother, Joselyn Ross.