Chapter 1580: Talented woman

The cigar room moved in a slow, indulgent rhythm mixed with smoke drifting slowly under warm amber lights, low murmurs blending with the soft clink of crystal.

Zhao Li Xin sat calmly, cigar between his fingers as he listened to Abigail and Robert’s conversation with ease. Without breaking focus, he lifted his glass and took a sip of bourbon.

He frowned slightly at the unfamiliar taste, then glanced around, observing how the others carried themselves. A moment later, he mimicked them and started swirling the glass with quiet precision, his posture relaxed, his expression indifferent, almost seamless.

Lory watched in amazement. Even with his deliberately unflattering disguise, he still carried a subtle charm that drew a few curious glances, though thankfully, they quickly looked away.

She discreetly patted her chest in relief, ’Thank goodness, I make him ugly today.’

Meanwhile, Zhao Li Xin paid no attention to any of it, his focus fixed entirely on eavesdropping. He didn’t tell Lory, but he was actually curious how people in this world have an affair; he wondered if it was the same in his world?

Abigail leaned back against the velvet chaise, one leg crossing slowly over the other, her silk dress catching the low amber light. A knowing smile curved her lips as she watched Robert pour himself another drink like he owned not just the room, but time itself.

"You know," she said lightly, tracing the rim of her glass, "it hasn’t been that long since you came here again, Mr. Augburn." Her gaze lifted to meet his, playful yet sharp. "Wouldn’t your wife start looking for you, by now?"

Robert didn’t even glance at the clock. He took a slow sip, unbothered, as if the world outside these walls had politely excused his absence.

"Why do you ask?" he replied, his voice soft and almost amused. "Is my presence starting to bother you?"

Abigail pursed her lips cutely. "Of course not... I was just curious." She lowered her gaze shyly.

Robert finally looked at her, one brow lifting slightly as a faint flicker of delight slipped into his eyes, though he tried to hide it.

"Don’t worry about my wife," he said, releasing a quiet, dismissive breath.

"My wife has her own world to tend to, galas, luncheons, charity boards, endless social obligations." He lifted his glass and swirled the amber liquid lazily before taking a slow sip. "We’ve been married for so long that I doubt she would even notice my absence."

"Really?" Abigail is half convinced.

"Why, are you jealous?" Robert teased.

"Hmp, in your dream" Abigail shot him a look, half-annoyed, half-playful, the kind that lingered just long enough to make its point before slipping away.

The reaction it drew was immediate. A flicker of delight sparked in Robert’s eyes, subtle yet unmistakable.

He had known many women over the years, well, too many to count, if had to be honest.

However, none of them quite like Abigail Rose. Most of those who lingered around him were predictable in their own ways: too childish in their desires, too spoiled by comfort, or too timid to ever push back against him.

But not Abigail.

She met him without hesitation, challenged him without overstepping, and spoke with a clarity that was as rare as it was refreshing. There was a steadiness in her, a quiet intelligence that never needed to announce itself, and above all, she possessed a captivating beauty that was capable of stirring any man’s heart.

"Ok, all jokes aside," he said at last, setting his glass aside with quiet precision. "I do still have unfinished business with this country."

Abigail’s smile deepened, though something sharper glinted beneath the surface.

"Oh," she murmured, leaning forward just enough to close the space between them, her voice dipping into something softer, more intimate, "Well, I do know, you are a busy man."

Her eyes lingered on him, then she spoke in a casual tone. "I’ve heard your Anchora company has been receiving quite a number of partnership proposals lately."

Robert’s chin lifted almost imperceptibly, a quiet pride surfacing despite his composure. "Oh? You’ve heard about that?"

"I hear things," Abigail said, lifting her wine glass with effortless grace. Her lips brushed the rim as she took a slow, unhurried sip, her gaze never quite leaving his. "You know, rumors travel quickly in a place like this... though I suppose the alcohol is to blame." She added the last part with a playful wink.

Robert chuckled and raised his glass in response. "I can hardly blame them," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Alcohol and women always have a way of loosening a man’s control." His eyes roamed over Abigail’s body.

It didn’t bother abigail at all, as she used to it.

"Like General Versen?" Abigail tone light but deliberate.

For the briefest moment, Robert’s expression stiffened. Then it smoothed over just as quickly, a slow smile returning as he lifted his glass and took a measured sip.

Abigail didn’t press. Instead, she let the moment slip as though it had never mattered. "Well, I don’t know what everyone else thinks of him, but to me, he’s always been a generous man," she said lightly. Her voice softened as she reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

The movement was slow, deliberate, just enough to reveal the golden bracelet at her wrist, its rubies and diamonds catching the light with every subtle shift.

"That bracelet..." Robert’s gaze sharpened, darkening slightly. "Is it from him?"

Abigail noticed it immediately, the shift in his tone, the flicker of something more possessive beneath his composure. Men like Robert Augburn were predictable in certain ways; they were accustomed to having what they desired, and rarely tolerated the idea of someone else claiming it first.

And that made this... useful.

She let a soft giggle slip past her lips, lifting her wrist just slightly as if to admire it herself. "Yes," she said, her tone warm, almost fond. "Isn’t it beautiful?"

Her fingers brushed over the bracelet with quiet appreciation, as though the gift, and the man behind it, held significance matter for her.

"Ha. Now I see where all that extra money from his little ’side job’ goes," Robert scoffed, his tone edged with quiet disdain.

His gaze flicked to her wrist. "Sorry, but to be honest, I think your bracelet looks cheap and too contentious. It doesn’t suit your style."

"Hey, don’t say that," Abigail protested softly, her lips forming a faint pout. She glanced down at it, turning her wrist as if reconsidering.

"Well, it’s true, it’s not exactly to my taste, but I do appreciate the intention." Her eyes lifted back to his, curious, almost innocent. "Besides, he’s a general... why would he need a side job just to afford something like this?"

Robert let out a low, derisive laugh, the corner of his mouth curling. "You really think that?" he said, a trace of mockery in his voice. "A general he may be, but he’s still a government employee.

His salary doesn’t come close to that of a CEO running a major company." He paused, then added with a sharper edge, "And he’s a henpecked husband, no less. Every expense of his is controlled by his wife."

His gaze dropped once more to the bracelet, lingering.

"So tell me," Robert continued, his voice lowering with quiet conviction, "how else could he afford something like that... if he didn’t have a side job to generate extra income?"

Abigail pouted her lips coqquetishly "Hmp, you’re just jealous! How do you know that anyway?"

"Of course I know," Robert sipped his drink once more before he speak "I’m the one who gave the ’side job to him."

Zhao Li Xin relayed everything he had heard to Lory, his voice low and steady as he recounted the exchange.

Lory’s eyes were practically sparkling as she listened, and she was genuinely impressed by Abigail’s ability.

Abigail’s approach had been so subtle it was almost invisible, no direct questions, no pressure, not even a hint of urgency. Yet somehow, she had guided Robert exactly where she wanted him, letting his own pride and disdain do the work for her.

It was the kind of manipulation that didn’t feel like manipulation at all. To Robert, it would have seemed like nothing more than a casual conversation, a few careless remarks spoken in passing.

He might even believe it had been his own idea to speak so freely.

And that was what made it truly remarkable.

Instead forced the truth out of him, Abigail made him offer it willingly.

Even so, Lory hadn’t expected something so valuable to come from what was supposed to be simple eavesdropping.

Without wasting a second, she pulled out her phone and sent General Versen’s name to Fredhardt. Beside her, Zhao Li Xin remained focused, his attention still fixed on the conversation, listening for anything more that might slip through.

Unfortunately, Abigail didn’t push any further.

The tension shifted instead, softer, more intimate, as she leaned in and exchanged a few lingering, passionate kisses with Robert.

Just as things threatened to deepen, she drew back with a gentle laugh, offering a practiced excuse. She mentioned another appointment waiting for her and promised him another evening, tomorrow night.

Satisfied enough, Robert eventually took his leave.

The moment the door closed behind him, Abigail let out a slow, measured breath, the charming smile slipping from her lips. Without hesitation, she turned and walked toward her private room.

Only a select few employees of the Grand Ivory were granted such a privilege, a quiet testament to Abigail Rose’s value within the establishment.

The room itself wasn’t particularly large, but it was exquisitely arranged. White and deep burgundy dominated the space, blending into a palette that felt both elegant and intimate. A vase of fresh red roses rested at the center of a round table, their fragrance faint but deliberate.

Everything about the room was carefully designed to evoke a sense of closeness, of quiet romance. Or at least, that was the illusion Abigail intended to create.

Abigail sat before the vanity, the soft glow of the mirror lights casting a gentle sheen across her features. With practiced ease, she powdered her nose and touched up her lipstick, every movement precise, unhurried, until she was satisfied with the image staring back at her.

Only then did she rise. She had barely turned around when her body stiffened.

Someone was already in the room!

Abigail froze, her breath catching as her eyes widened, fear flashing across her face before she could hide it. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice sharper than intended.

Across the room, a woman sat comfortably on the bed as though she belonged there. One leg crossed over the other, her posture calm, almost leisurely. There was no urgency in her movements as she lifted her hand. 𝐟𝑟ⅇ

A single white rose rested between her fingers.

"Fargo said you like this kind of flower." The words fell lightly, almost casually.

Abigail’s gaze fell on the flower, and in that moment, her pounding heart began to calm, her initial fear fading away with recognition. Her expression became calmer, though a trace of disbelief still lingered.

"...Fargo sent you?" she asked, her voice quieter now, edged with uncertainty.

Lory didn’t miss the flicker in her eyes, that brief spark of anticipation and genuine joy, though it was quickly masked behind her calm exterior, but Lory caught it, and she understood.

Lory clicked her tongue inwardly, irritation flickering beneath her otherwise composed expression.

’Fargo, you dam* womanizer,’