Chapter 526


    "Wait, Brenda’s spilling the scoop about her drama with Jordan. She added me to vent," Cordelia said,


    ncing back at her phone.


    [Is Mr. Evans with you?] Brenda texted.


    [Yeah.]


    [Hand him the phone. I need him to have a word with Jordan.] Brenda instructed.


    Cordelia pondered, “This is kinda awkward. Sure, Jordan used to be under Ronan''s wing back in the


    day, but that''s history. Why should Ronan step in now? Plus, it was Ronan who got Jordan locked up.


    Jordan must absolutely loathe him by now.”


    Ronan caught her daydreaming and asked, “Penny for your thoughts?”


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    “Brenda messaged me,” she said, toweling off her hair and giving Ronan a y-by-y.


    There was a certain electric charge in the air, a tension that spoke of recent intimacy. In Cordelia’s


    hesitant gaze, one might sense an intimacy of her own, a reluctance to voice certain thoughts.


    “Who?” Ronan furrowed his brow, clearly not recalling Brenda immediately, and then he grunted in


    recognition, “What’s up with her?”


    “Remember Jordan? Brenda says he’s totally clinging to her now, not just in bed, but he’s shacked up


    at her ce. She wants you to talk some sense into him.” Cordelia gestured with her phone, implying


    the decision was Ronan’s to make.


    “So kick him out and get a new ce. Simple,” Ronan concluded, settling into the couch and


    massaging his temples. “Since when does sleeping over mean moving in? I mean, we''ve crashed


    together plenty, but have I ever overstayed my wee?”


    Cordelia just rolled her eyes at him. “But isn''t that like handing over her ce to Jordan?” Cordelia’s


    voice edged with concern.


    “What’s the rush?” Ronan looked up at her. “If he’s staying, he’ll get bored eventually. It’s up to Brenda


    to cut the cord. Jordan’s the type who…”


    Ronan crossed one leg over the other, leaving the thought hanging as if the mere mention of Jordan


    was beneath him.


    Cordelia mulled over the situation, weighing its feasibility. She leaned in, “What type is Jordan?”


    Ronan shot her a nce, “You worked under him before, didn’t you? You know what he’s like. Why ask


    me? Brenda needs to wise up. I can’t intervene here; the more I do, the more schemes Jordan will


    cook up. It’s best to y dumb.”


    Cordelia considered Ronan’s words; they seemed to hold water. “But if he’s that type, why did you ever


    work with him? Wasn’t he there for you during the rough patches?” Cordelia was genuinely puzzled.


    Ronan suddenly became enigmatic.


    His gaze lingered on Cordelia. “You really wanna know?”


    “Of course.” Cordelia hugged a pillow to her chest, settlingfortably onto the bed, her eyshes


    fluttering with curiosity as she focused on Ronan.


    She realized that Ronan was like a novel with no end—a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.


    As she grew older, he only became more unfathomable.


    “I needed to secure a piece ofnd back then. Jordan’s father-inw was the gatekeeper. I handed


    Jordan a sweet gig; his father-inw got the message loud and clear.” Ronan’s eyes bored into


    Cordelia, gauging her reaction.


    As expected, she was taken aback. Ronan’s moves were always calcted, always purposeful. “And


    after that?” she probed further.


    “After that, Jordan’s ambition outstripped his talent. Embezzlement. I took him down just as his father-


    inw kicked the bucket. By then, Emerson had finished his stint on Wall Street,” Ronan said with


    detached calm.


    “So, were you setting up Emerson to take over from the get-go? Then what was with the job posting?”


    Cordelia’s eyes widened in surprise.


    Ronan chuckled, “You don’t get it. Recruiting is all about the buzz—it''s like a live ad.”