Chapter 341 Sebastian Kingsley? Who Is He?
"Hey, Ms. Taylor, got an invite from Libertya. Check it out." Lisa handed Scarlett an international package. The Hermes kraft paper envelope screamed high status.
'Libertya, huh? Not really my thing. It's too big, too unknown. I'd just get lost in that place,' Scarlett thought.
"Nah, just decline it."
Lisa and Cory exchanged looks and tried again. "Ms. Taylor, Aucester Hospital is top-notch in Libertya. Their cardiology department is the best. This academic exchange is really..."
Scarlett put on her sunglasses, covering half her face. "I couldn't care less about how amazing it is. Count me out."
With that, she walked to her Bugatti and opened the driver's side door.
Lisa saw the potential in the opportunity. Placing the document in the car, she considered the trip to Libertya worthwhile. "I'll leave this here. Take a look when you have time. If you really don't want to go, I'll decline it then."
Scarlett glanced at the cover, nodded, and then the black car sped away.
That evening, at a private villa in Emporcia.
As soon as Scarlett arrived outside the villa, a middle-aged Britonia butler in a vest and formal attire walked out respectfully. His gentlemanly and refined demeanor was exceptionally calm and elegant. "Miss, Mr. Taylor and Mrs. Taylor are already waiting."
"Okay."
Inside the hall, lit by a sparkling Cartier crystal chandelier, it was luxuriously unparalleled, as grand as a castle. The furnishings were all top-notch wooden furniture from around the world, including some ancient wood tables and chairs coveted by Libertya collectors.
The blend of antique and modern styles was the unique charm of the Taylor Villa.
"Daddy, Mommy." Scarlett entered and hugged her mother, Diana Porter, who was in a wheelchair, then hugged her father, Leon Taylor, who stood up to welcome her home.
"Lisa told me you drove back from Lincolnton University yourself? Driving is so tiring. Why didn't you take a flight back? Or have the driver pick you up?" Diana asked.
Scarlett pouted her full lips and said playfully, "Mom, I couldn't wait for the driver, and going to the airport is quite a distance too. It's better to drive back directly. Didn't I make it back before dinner? I'm a bit hungry. Can we eat now, Mom?"
At home, Scarlett was a completely different person. Around Diana and Leon, she was the perfect daughter—well-behaved, sensible, gentle, and caring.
"Of course! We were just waiting for you to join us," Diana said.
The dining table was set with a pure white hand-embroidered tablecloth, not a wrinkle in sight. In the center was a bouquet of vibrant carnations, accented with a few sprigs of baby's breath, giving off a delicate fragrance and creating a pleasant atmosphere.
After dinner, Scarlett headed back to her bedroom on the second floor. After washing up, she lay on her bed and soon fell into a terrible nightmare!
In the dream, she was falling endlessly, her body scraping against hard rocks, withered branches catching her arms and tearing off patches of skin, leaving her bloodied. The pain was unbearable, and she gradually lost consciousness, falling into a bottomless black hole!
She woke up with a start, clutching her head that felt like it was splitting apart, gasping for breath. A few minutes later, she turned on the bedside lamp, her cotton pajamas soaked in cold sweat.
'It's been a long time since I had this dream. Why is it happening again?' Scarlett thought as she wiped the sweat from her face and neck. She slipped on her slippers, walked downstairs, and turned on the hallway light. A family photo hung on the wall at the end of the hallway.
In the photo, she was nestled in Diana and Leon's arms, smiling brightly.
Rubbing her throbbing forehead, Scarlett walked down the stairs and drank some water. It seemed she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.
Suddenly thinking of the invitation, she changed into a pair of loafers, walked to the garage, sat in the car, and under its light, began to unwrap the sealed string.
The handwritten invitation was sincere, and probably out of genuine intent, the letter was written in two languages.
The handwriting was strong and powerful, the strokes full of vigor, signed by George Clark, the dean of Aucester Hospital.
In addition to the invitation, there was an introduction to Aucester Hospital, including pictures and text. She wasncertain of its veracity, but the material boasted Aucester Hospital as a medical paradise, a savior for patients.
Scarlett was quite skeptical of this.
However, the name in the bottom right corner caught her attention.
"Sebastian Kingsley?" Scarlett pondered for a moment and read the name aloud.
'Sebastian Kingsley? Who is he?' she wondered.
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