Reborn Heiress: Taking Back What Is Rightfully Hers!-Chapter 707 - 11111

The car slowly pulled out of the parking garage. Nerida stood there, watching helplessly as it disappeared into the distance. "Miss Wilson’s temper isn’t too bad," he muttered. "If she really marries Everett, maybe she’ll put in a good word and I’ll get a raise."

There was no snow today.

Workers were out clearing the sidewalks, and most of the streets were already clean. Still, Aurora drove carefully, worried about even the slightest accident.

She couldn’t afford anything to happen while she was still on the road. If she was delayed, the meeting might go terribly wrong.

If she was late, who knew what that weirdo might do...

Aurora stepped into the inn.

The place had a strong Country S vibe, like something straight out of the past. Even the servers were dressed in traditional outfits, giving the whole place a dreamlike, time-travel feeling.

"Miss, are you here to dine or to meet someone?"

A server dressed in a bright red dress with an embroidered dragon-and-phoenix jacket came over, smiling warmly.

"I’m... here to meet someone. Room 10," Aurora answered.

The server’s eyes lit up. "Please follow me, miss!"

Aurora thought Room 10 would be on the first floor, but to her surprise, the server led her up to the fourth floor.

"The first and second floors are for dining," the server explained cheerfully. "Only the third and fourth floors have guest rooms. We’re small, but the rooms are big—only five rooms per floor. Very cozy."

The server chattered happily, clearly guessing Aurora was from Country S too, and eager to make her feel at home.

Aurora said nothing. She let herself be led to the door of Room 10.

"If you need anything, just call me," the server said with a bright smile before leaving.

Aurora nodded. Once the server was gone, she could hear the faint sounds of laughter drifting up from the floors below.

The antique-style hallway was lined with Country S-style paintings, making the place feel surprisingly serene.

Aurora stood frozen for five whole minutes. She lifted her hand to knock—but pulled back at the last second.

Her heart was pounding like a drum. Her hands and feet felt weak.

Classic signs of extreme nerves.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to pump herself up.

"Come on, Aurora. You have to get Everett’s antidote. You can do this."

Finally, she knocked.

The sharp, crisp sound of her knocking echoed down the hall, sending chills down her spine.

The space around her fell eerily silent again.

But no one opened the door.

Aurora’s heart climbed into her throat. She didn’t know what the person inside was doing. Nervously, she stepped back two paces, hoping at least the security cameras in the hallway would catch the person’s face if they showed themselves. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

The door finally creaked open.

Aurora froze on the spot.

The person standing there wore a mask and sunglasses, about the same height as her, with a slim build.

Judging by the figure, it was a man.

Was he really after her?

Aurora’s heart was pounding wildly. She could barely get her words out.

"Y-You’re the one who sent me the messages, right? Hello, I’m... I’m Aurora. I came alone, just like you asked. No one else knows about this."

The man made a polite gesture, like he was inviting her in.

"Please, come in," he said, his voice rough and raspy.

Aurora’s hand trembled slightly as she stepped inside. The man closed the door behind her. She stayed alert, watching him carefully, ready for anything.

Tonight, she had deliberately dressed very plainly—a simple black dress, a black overcoat, and jeans underneath. The whole outfit looked mismatched.

But that was exactly the point. She didn’t want to look attractive at all. She didn’t want to give any man a reason to be tempted.

"Miss Wilson, your outfit tonight... truly opens my eyes," the man said, his accent perfectly fluent.

Aurora was stunned. He had to be from Country S too, right?

But she couldn’t recall ever meeting someone like him before.

She forced a small laugh.

"I’m not great at dressing up. My stylist’s not with me right now, so I just wore whatever I liked."

Aurora spoke carefully. As the man approached, she instinctively backed away a few steps.

He chuckled lightly.

"No need to be so tense. I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to meet you without anyone else knowing."

After saying that, he casually sat down at a dining table off to the side.

The room was surprisingly large—it even had a piano.

The mix of old-world decor with a modern piano made the space feel a little strange, almost surreal.

Slowly, the man took off his hat, sunglasses, and mask.

Aurora stared in shock.

The man was an old man, probably in his sixties or seventies.

Then again, it made sense—someone capable of creating a drug like that wouldn’t likely be young. Especially considering that no one in the world had discovered an antidote yet for whatever Everett had been given.

A man that skilled would almost have to be older.

"Sit down, relax," the old man said casually. "Otherwise... if I get annoyed, I might just decide not to give you the antidote after all."

He was lean and sharp-featured. Aurora could tell that he must have been quite handsome when he was young.

Forcing herself to stay calm, Aurora walked over and sat across from him.

"Sir, may I know your name?" she asked.

"You don’t need to know my name," the old man said simply.

But his eyes stayed fixed on Aurora’s face, studying her intently.

She tensed up again at first—but then realized that his gaze wasn’t lecherous at all. It was sharp, almost nostalgic.

If he had bad intentions toward her, his eyes wouldn’t have been this clean.

There was a kind of quiet longing in his look, a deep memory surfacing.

"You... you look so much like her," he murmured.

Aurora’s heart skipped a beat.

"You... you mean my Grandma Carter?" she asked cautiously.

That was the only connection she could think of. People often said she resembled Grandma Carter—about 50% her, 30% her mother, and 20% her father.

Even her own mother used to say Aurora was the spitting image of Grandma Carter. Some traits, after all, skipped a generation.