Chapter 469 Arabella, I Want to Alleviate Poverty
Arabella glanced back at Quinn, standing tall under the streetlight. His expression was cool, almost roguish, but his eyes—sharp and bright—held a rare kind of clarity. It was the kind of pure, unfiltered gaze she hadn't seen in a long time."
For a moment, Arabella was taken aback.
"I'm heading home. Why are you following me?" Her surprise lasted only a few seconds before it was replaced by her typical brash demeanor.
"The crepes you mentioned earlier, what are they?" Quinn glanced around, his eyes wandering, his tone dismissive yet curious.
Arabella was puzzled.
Quinn took a step forward, his long legs moving swiftly. "Hello?"
Arabella sneered. "You want to try them? Fine, I'll show you. Well, rich kids are so ignorant. Never had a crepe before? How did you even grow up?"
Quinn snorted, "Enough with the chatter!"
The crepe stand was simple, just a pushcart. The weather was nice, so the owner was still open late at night. There was only one girl waiting in line.
"Two crepes, please," Arabella ordered. The owner cheerfully responded, "Coming right up!"
Arabella nudged Quinn's arm. "Sweet or savory?"
Quinn's bespoke Verdanza suit and six-figure wristwatch made the street vendor's worn-out clothes look like rags in comparison.
The sudden question 'Sweet or savory?' instantly dragged Quinn down from his lofty position as the second heir of the Kingsley family to the level of an ordinary street-goer. What made it even more infuriating was that Arabella didn't seem to care about his status at all.
Even more infuriating was how naturally Quinn responded. "Savory!"
"Two savory crepes, please. Add an extra egg to one of them." Arabella laughed.
"Got it, just a moment."
Quinn looked at Arabella as if she were a strange creature. "Arabella, you ate so much earlier, and now you want more? And with two eggs?"
Did she have a bottomless stomach?
Arabella shot him a sideways glance and chose to ignore him.
A few minutes later, the crepes were ready. Arabella handed one to Quinn. "Mr. Kingsley, here you go."
Quinn raised an eyebrow, looking at her with his eye whites showing. "What do you mean?"
The one she gave him had two eggs.
Arabella explained, "It's simple. I ate earlier, and you didn't. Plus, I felt sorry for you, so I gave you an extra egg. No need to thank me, just pay up."
Quinn's brief moment of reconsideration was quickly extinguished by Arabella's words. He cursed under his breath and reached for his wallet.
His high-end wallet was filled with credit cards, not a single bill in sight.
Quinn's face darkened. "I can't pay."
Arabella glanced at his wallet and almost burst out laughing when she saw the credit cards. "Mr. Kingsley, are you planning to dine and dash?"
"Me?" He pulled out a credit card and handed it to the owner. "Charge it."
The owner looked at the card, then at the two of them, his mouth twitching. "You two are joking, right? I can't take cards here. The crepes are five dollars each, eleven dollars total. Just give me eleven dollars."
Quinn's face grew even darker.
Arabella couldn't stand it any longer and pulled Quinn aside. "Alright, I'll pay. You treat me to a fancy dinner, and I'll treat you to crepes. Fair?"
Quinn shouted, "You're using a six-dollar crepe to make up for the two hundred dishes you wasted tonight? Fair?"
Arabella's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Not willing? If you're not willing, then pay up."
"You!" He knew she was aware he had no cash and there were no banks nearby. This damn woman!
"Shut up if you can't pay." She pulled out eleven dollars from her bag.
The owner shook his head sympathetically. "Miss, these days you can't trust a guy just 'cause he's got a pretty face. Some of men are straight-up wolves in sheep's clothing. Keep your eyes open."
"Got it, thanks for the warning. I'll keep my eyes open!" Arabella laughed.
Quinn held the warm crepe, feeling a stark contrast between it and his inner turmoil. "Arabella, come here!"
Arabella was still joking with the owner when Quinn dragged her a few feet away. "Are you addicted to this?"
"What's there to be addicted to? Addiction requires something attractive. As for you, forget it." she raised an eyebrow.
Quinn frowned. "Your sharp tongue might poison you one day."
"Then I'll make sure to poison you first." Arabella pulled away from Quinn, unwrapped her crepe, and took a big bite, savoring the flavor. "This is the real deal!"
Quinn swallowed and looked at his crepe. "Is it good?"
The hot crepe looked quite appealing in the night.
Quinn took a bite.
Just one bite, and he felt a strange yet stimulating sensation on his taste buds. He had to admit, it was good.
Arabella, with a mouthful of crepe, asked, "How is it? Better than your fancy dinners?"
"This? In your dreams." He was duplicitous.
Arabella rolled her eyes. "You rich folks always go to high-end restaurants, eating Gallonia cuisine, Sakura Republic cuisine. To me, nothing beats a good crepe."
Dazed, Quinn watched Arabella lose herself in the simple pleasure of her crepe. Every bite she took, every tiny shift in her expression, radiated such unguarded delight that it seemed absurd—as if this street snack held the secrets of the universe. Who knew joy could be so... edible?
A refugee camp escapee?
The two of them walked down the bustling streets of Aucester, each holding a steaming crepe. The moon and neon lights illuminated their path.
The night breeze occasionally blew, ruffling her hair and his clothes.
Quinn asked, "Arabella, is your hometown in the mountains?"
Arabella nodded firmly. "Not just mountains! We live at the foot of a cliff, in a tiny village with only a few dozen households. There are no stores nearby. Even if there were, we couldn't afford them. Everything we eat, wear, and use is self-produced. We have to walk a long way to school..."
As she continued, Arabella almost believed her own story. Her storytelling skills were impressive!
Quinn listened, stunned, forgetting to chew his food. "Is that true?"
It sounded like a reality show.
Arabella wished she could squeeze out some tears to enhance the atmosphere. She nodded emphatically. "Absolutely! I would never joke about my hometown."
Quinn suddenly placed a large hand on Arabella's shoulder. "Arabella, I've decided."
Arabella nearly choked. "What do you mean?"
What the hell was Quinn up to? He was scaring her.
Quinn's expression was serious, no hint of a joke. "I've never been to a place like that. Take me there sometime. I can donate some money to build a school. No need to thank me. I'm just that kind of person, helping others without expecting anything in return."
Arabella was speechless.
Quinn smiled. "Don't look at me with those adoring eyes. I might think you like me."
"Mr. Kingsley, I'm really curious. Where did you learn to be so narcissistic? I want to learn too!"
"I'm not narcissistic. I just have a very accurate self-awareness."
Arabella didn't bother responding. They continued walking, occasionally teasing each other, until they finished their crepes.
"Mr. Kingsley, I'm going home."
Unknowingly, it was already ten o'clock.
Quinn checked his watch. "You've wasted so much of my time, Arabella. Your whole village couldn't compensate for it."
Arabella curled her finger. "I used to carry water buckets at home. I'm pretty strong. Want to test it? I'd love to punch your mouth crooked!"
Quinn patted her head like she was a pet dog, then ruffled her hair. "You're already not very ladylike. Tone it down. Don't scare people at night."
Arabella looked up at his hand and quickly dodged. Damn it! A woman's head wasn't for random touching! "Screw you! I'm leaving!"
"Where do you live?" Quinn asked.
"Why do you care? I live under the overpass."
"Tell me where you live. I'll give you a ride. Consider it charity."
Damn it!
"No need. I'll take the bus. I'm poor, but I can afford bus fare."
It felt like she was one step away from starving.
"It's late. There are no buses. Don't be stubborn. I'll take you. Don't worry, I have no interest in you. To me, you're like a pet, a male one."
Fuck!
Just then, a bus arrived. Arabella ran to the bus stop. "The bus is here! I'm leaving!"
Before she finished speaking, she was already on the bus.
The bus roared away, leaving Quinn standing there, bewildered.
He glanced at the bus stop sign and almost spat blood. Fuck, where did Arabella live?
It was an express bus, heading straight to the outskirts of Aucester.
Arabella only realized her "brilliant" plan backfired after boarding the train. In her rush to ditch Quinn, she'd accidentally gotten on an express service with no interim stops. Fuck!
A few minutes later, her phone rang.
Seeing the caller ID "Boss," Arabella took a deep breath. "Dad... what's up?"
"Where are you?"
"Well... on the city bus." Arabella leaned against the window, knowing this ride would take forever.
"Bus? Tell me where it stops, and I'll have the driver pick you up."
Arabella looked at the sign and gave a name. "Dad, it's a special situation tonight. I'll explain later. I'll sleep on the bus for a bit. Have the driver wait for me at the stop."
"That's too far. Give the phone to the bus driver. I'll have him take you home directly."
"Is that necessary?" This was a city bus, not a private car.
"Absolutely. If he doesn't, I'll call the bus company. My precious daughter can't take such risks at night."
Arabella sighed, thinking of the story she had spun for Quinn. "Alright. I'll talk to the driver and have him stop nearby. Dad, calm down. I'm perfectly safe."
As soon as she hung up, Quinn's text came in: [Arabella, I've decided to conduct an experiment on you.]
What?
She quickly aked: [What do you mean?]
[I'm going to sponsor you.]
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