Mrs. Marsh's Revealed Identities novel (Jennifer and Ivan)
Chapter 1393: Am I Asking For Monica?

Chapter 1393: Am I Asking for Monica?

Nighttime.

Algerone Swain had arranged a business meeting with a friend, and he hadn't returned home by eight in the evening. The villa was pitch black, with no lights on and no servants in sight. It seemed like an unoccupied house. Did he really live here?

A Maybach was parked in the yard, with two streetlights emitting a warm yellow glow. Tristan had been waiting since sunset, through twilight, and then to the moon climbing up the treetops.

The surroundings were still quiet, with no sound of car engines, just the occasional chirping of insects and birds. He checked the time on his wrist again, preparing to call Uncle Swain to ask when he would be back. Just as he found the number, a car's headlights shone in his direction.

Tristan looked over and saw a car parked next to his, with less than two meters separating them. Algerone Swain's car had just come to a stop when he turned to look at the driver's seat of the other car, and his eyes met Tristan's.

Their gazes briefly met before they both got out of their cars almost simultaneously.

"Have you been waiting long?" Algerone Swain asked apologetically, "Mr. Norwell, when did you come?"

"Hello, Uncle Swain." Tristan greeted him politely with a smile, "Just call me Tristan, I just arrived."

"Come in, come in!" Algerone Swain didn't say much, as the winter night wind was a bit biting. He strode into the house, and Tristan followed closely.

As they entered the living room, the lights came on automatically. Tristan guessed that there might not be a lady of the house, otherwise the lights wouldn't have been off all this time. However, just because there wasn't one tonight didn't mean there hadn't been one before or there wouldn't be one in the future.

Perhaps it was just a coincidence? Or maybe the lady of the house was on vacation?

The house was spacious, with the living room alone spanning two hundred square meters. There were indeed no servants, as Algerone Swain made tea for Tristan himself, asking, "Don't you have my phone number? Make yourself comfortable."

"I do," Tristan answered. He had saved Swain's number in his father's phone earlier that day.

"In the future, if you need to replace me, be sure to call me in advance," the middle-aged man said kindly. "Sometimes I work overtime at the company and even stay there overnight."

"Alright," Tristan nodded, thinking to himself: staying at the company? A man with such freedom must undoubtedly be single, right?

Tristan sat down on the curved sofa, his deep and gentle eyes scanning the living room for a woman's touch. He couldn't replace any signs, not even a fresh bouquet of flowers.

However, he couldn't be sure, as the other party hadn't said anything yet. He had come here today to get a definitive answer, to see what the chances were of him helping Monica fulfill her dream. Tristan knew that Monica didn't lack money, so giving her gifts to win her favor was meaningless and tacky.

"Go ahead."

Algerone Swain gently placed the teapot on the coffee table and sat down across from Tristan, "What do you need from me?" "Uncle," Tristan looked up at him and asked softly, "Have you been single all these years? Living alone in such a big house?" Algerone Swain was slightly taken aback before smiling. "Are you interested in this?"

He then began pouring tea. "Tristan, you have to tell Uncle first, who are you asking for?"

"For myself," he replied without hesitation, very candidly. "I just want a definite answer."

"No," the middle-aged man chuckled and shook his head, seeing through him. "You're asking for Monica."

Tristan, "..." After a brief pause, he didn't deny it.

"Although she didn't ask you to inquire, you're asking because of her."

Algerone Swain's eyes were full of amusement, a very intelligent man.

Tristan answered with silence.

The middle-aged man picked up his teacup and looked at him, a glimmer of anticipation in his eyes. "Tristan, did Monica tell you something?"