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Abigail hung up Aunt Claudia’s phone and then quietly got up and left the room.

She made sure she wouldn’t wake up the little guy before dialing the number for the real estate agent, “Miss Muller, please get the procedures done as soon as possible.”

“Miss Green, don’t worry. This apartment is already completed, and since you’re paying in full, the company will finalize the procedures within three days at the latest. By then, you can pick up the keys from the property office at any time,” the consultant responded respectfully.

“Thank you, and sorry for the trouble.”

Abigail felt relieved. When she looked up, she stared into a pair of long, amber eyes. Despite the April weather, the man wore only a black loungewear set, which made him look even taller and more handsome. His pale skin paired with the perfectly chiseled features crafted by Nuwa were incredibly pleasing to the eye.

Thinking about the shock she felt when she first saw this man, Abigail couldn’t help but secretly sigh at such beauty. It seemed more fitting to be displayed in a museum.

“Miss Abigail?” Brandon Piers was amused by Abigail’s infatuated gaze, a playful smile curling on his lips.

Abigail snapped back to reality. “Mr. Piers, you were looking for me?”

“Is there an issue with the house?” He had apparently overheard Abigail’s phone call just now.

“No, thank you very much, Mr. Piers.” Abigail smiled sincerely. Without Brandon’s assistance, she could have managed the house purchase on her own, but it would not have been as quick and smooth as it was now.

“Miss Abigail, there’s no need to be so polite. It’s just that Pullan was too idle.”

Pullan, who had just followed in, thought to himself, “…where was I idle?”

“Thank you, Mr. Pullan.” Abigail promptly expressed her gratitude to Pullan behind Brandon.

“Miss Abigail, no need to thank me. The choice of this apartment was Mr. Piers’ suggestion.” Pullan replied honestly, thinking to himself that although Abigail wasn’t as beautiful as Ruby, she had a fair complexion and a cute personality.

Abigail glanced at the overly handsome man and then said to Pullan, “Then, could you please thank your Mr. Piers for me once more?”

Brandon, standing in front of Abigail, thought to himself, “…”

Pullan scratched the back of his head. Did he say something wrong?

“Is that all the sincerity you can muster?” Brandon suddenly approached Abigail. His amber gaze fell on her, exerting an inexplicable pressure.

Abigail met his gaze calmly. “Mr. Piers, what kind of sincerity are you looking for?”

Brandon suddenly moved forward, placing his long arm on the railing behind Abigail, making it seem like Abigail was trapped in his embrace. The posture was extremely suggestive.

Unfortunately, due to Abigail’s overweight figure, it lacked romance.

Pullan watched the scene, his eyes aching. He felt that Mr. Piers might have been possessed, trying to wall-slam Miss Abigail like that.

Unaware of Pullan’s thoughts, Brandon tilted his head to look at the plump girl before him. “Would you give me whatever I want?”

The two were so close that Abigail could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck, making it feel ticklish. “Mr. Piers, what is this?” she wondered. Was he trying to seduce her? Didn’t seem to have a motive.

Did that mean he was just being obstinate?

“Your collar isn’t properly positioned.” With that, Brandon used his long, beautiful fingers to adjust Abigail’s collar. Then, he leisurely turned and left.

Abigail, standing there in a daze, could still feel the residual warmth of his breath on the nape of her neck. Her face slowly turned pink. She muttered a curse, feeling annoyed by his obsessive-compulsive behavior.

On the other hand, Brandon, who had left, handed a strand of long black hair to the bewildered and curious Pullan at the corner. “Take this and get me the results soon.”

Pullan, who had just thought his young master wanted to seduce the chubby 18-year-old girl, now realized, “…”

It turned out Mr. Piers just wanted to get a strand of Abigail’s hair.

Just as he was turning around, he suddenly heard his Mr. Piers mutter, “Why so round?”

Puzzled, Pullan asked, “Mr. Piers, what is round?”

“Get out.” Brandon kicked Pullan and turned into his study, touching his own burning earlobe. Why wasn’t his as round?

On his way to deliver the hair sample, Pullan felt distressed. Mr. Piers had once again cursed at him. Was he about to fall out of favor?