The billionaire Mr. Luxton

Chapter 2: The billionaire Mr. Luxton

With a whole day's worth of roasted chicken to prepare, the workload was immense. Anna, working on an empty stomach, kept at it with her parents until a little past eleven.

Wendy called out, "Alright, you go deliver the orders with the tricycle. Your dad and I can handle the rest."

With her orders received, Anna untied her apron, washed her hands, and couldn't help but glance down at her stomach again. It was still flat, showing no sign of her pregnancy, but the overwhelming hunger pangs reminded her that the baby inside was hungry too.

While her dad was loading chicken buckets onto the cart, she sneaked off to a nearby bun shop and wolfed down two meat buns right there. She dared not bring any home after being scolded by her mom last time for being wasteful and indulgent with money.

After swallowing the last bite of her bun, Anna returned to their shop. Yan Jianghe gave her a look, probably catching the scent of the buns on her, but said nothing except to be careful on the road.

Nodding, Anna mounted the tricycle, loaded with six large buckets of roasted chicken.

She hadn't expected her delivery destination to be a high-end hotel located in the most bustling district of the city, surrounded by well-dressed, affluent people.

Wearing a sun hat, a white T-shirt, and sun-protective arm sleeves, Anna pedaled the tricycle to the hotel's back entrance.

Seeing a delicate young girl delivering orders, the kitchen manager was slightly taken aback but didn't comment much, merely instructing Anna to bring the supplies inside.

Anna quickly agreed and set to work. The manager watched as she struggled to lift the heavy buckets, each weighing around sixty to seventy pounds, and frowned.

"Is your family really that busy to send you, a young girl, to make deliveries?"

Anna offered a polite smile. "Yes, my parents' shop is quite busy. But don't worry, I'll manage to bring everything inside."

Lugging the hefty chicken buckets, Anna felt a tug in her stomach. She secretly hoped the child would be lost, sparing her a trip to the hospital she couldn't afford and feared to mention to her parents.

As she exerted herself moving the buckets into the kitchen one by one, a black Bentley pulled up to the curb.

As Anna was laboriously carrying the heavy buckets one after another into the kitchen, a black Bentley came to a stop by the curb.

"Why have we stopped, Andrew?" Andrew's childhood friend, peering along the line of Andrew's sight, was taken aback. "Isn't that the girl... the one you rescued at the bar that night?"

He opened the car door and stepped out, walking towards her.

"Andrew," called out Anna, her voice nearly lost amidst her efforts.

By now, Anna had managed to bring in three of the heavy buckets, with three more to go. Wiping sweat from her brow, she braced herself to finish the task, feeling a pull in her stomach but no pain. She thought, exerting a bit more might just end the pregnancy.

The thought of intentionally harming her unborn child suddenly filled her with sorrow, and tears mixed with sweat began to fall.

Through her tear-blurred vision, she saw a hand with distinct knuckles reach out, and then the chicken bucket was lifted from her grasp.

Anna looked up, meeting those familiar, deep eyes.

"You... Uncle?" she gasped in surprise.

Andrew, noticing her reddened eyes, furrowed his brow slightly. "Tired? If you're tired, you shouldn't keep working. Why the tears?"

Anna sniffled, shaking her head. "I'm not crying. It's just sweat."

"Wipe it off, will you? Do all these need to go inside?" Andrew asked, gesturing towards the remaining buckets.

Anna nodded. "Yes, they're all ordered by this hotel."

Andrew effortlessly picked up two of the buckets and started walking inside, causing Anna to panic slightly and try to take them back. "Uncle, you don't need to. I can carry them myself."

A glance from Andrew's deep-set eyes made Anna involuntarily step back, letting go of the buckets.

After delivering the two buckets into the kitchen, Andrew asked, "Do they go here?"

The kitchen manager, busy checking the day's deliveries, didn't look up at first. "Yeah, just put them there."

It was only after hearing a man's voice that he looked up, and upon recognizing who it was, his demeanor changed drastically. He hurriedly closed his notebook and approached with a smile plastered across his face.

"Mr. Luxton, what... what brings you here? With your status, why would you come to a place filled with kitchen smoke like this?"

Andrew ignored the manager, went back to fetch the last bucket of chicken, and brought it inside as well.

"Is everything settled now? Pay her, please."

Seeing Anna standing at the doorway, the kitchen manager was astounded. Could this exceptionally young girl actually know Mr. Luxton? And to have someone of Mr. Luxton's stature help her carry buckets of roasted chicken?

Not just him, but no one in the entire elite circles of Kentucky could have imagined Andrew Luxton doing such manual labor. The Luxton family is a true dynasty, their wealth and influence built over several generations, unlike the nouveau riche.

Andrew Luxton, the sole heir of the Luxton family, was among the elite of the elites in Kentucky. And here was a girl selling roasted chicken, somehow acquainted with Andrew Luxton, even having him assist with her delivery?

The manager immediately decided that this girl was someone to curry favor with. He quickly approached Anna with his purchase ledger in hand.

"Young lady, why didn't you mention you knew Mr. Luxton earlier? From now on, you don't need to deliver the chicken yourself. We'll arrange for pickup directly from your store. The original price we agreed on was eighty per piece, but I'll raise it for you—how does one hundred twenty per piece sound?"

After offering the new price, he cautiously awaited Anna's response.

Anna was dumbfounded; she thought eighty per piece was already a fair price. The manager's offer to increase it by forty was incredibly generous, significantly boosting her potential earnings.

She quickly bowed in gratitude. "Thank you so much, that price is very generous. Thank you, sir."

The manager, now exceedingly polite, waved his hand dismissively.

"No need to thank me, it's all part of the job," he said, sneaking a glance at Andrew Luxton, who seemed to be in a less-than-pleased mood.

Not daring to engage further with Anna, he quickly paid her and hurried off to attend to his duties.

Walking out of the kitchen with tens of thousands in her bag, Anna began to calculate. If she reported the earnings to her parents based on the original eighty per piece, could she possibly use the extra money for the hospital procedure? Even if her parents later audited the accounts, the money would have already been spent. At worst, she reasoned, she would face a severe reprimand or go hungry for a few days.