Chapter 7

The next few days went by without a hitch. Every night, I waited until the latest possible time to drive Kyrie home.

The next morning, I'd left the house extremely early to avoid bumping into Charlyn. Once I reached the company, Kyrie would use a different excuse of the day to give me breakfast.

Every day was practically smooth sailing for me—if I were to ignore the half-hour calls Luther placed just to rant to me about Charlyn and to beg me to come up with a way to kick her out. At this point, he wanted nothing more than to have a new private tutor.

Well, if the brute next to me could remove the black sack from my head, that'd be even better.

I'd just felt like having coffee all of a sudden. Of course, I'd just had to develop a shred of conscience when I'd looked at Kyrie, whom I was used to ordering around like a slave. So, I'd thought that I should personally drop by the café across from the company and get my own coffee.

This had all taken place in broad daylight. The moment