NovelEnglishChapter 1087 A Shawbury Specialty "Why are you spacing out a lot lately? Is working fortoo tiring for you?" Damien frowned as he scrutinized Otto Walkins, who seemed constantly distracted. "If this keeps happening, I'll consider transferring you to Africa to accompany Lennon." Otto didn't know how to explain the situation. Instead, he gathered himself and simply apologized for his behavior. If Damien was already considering transferring him, that likely meant that his luck was about to run out.
After flying for over four hours, the plane finally arrived at a small island in the Mediterranean Sea. Once the plane landed, Otto immediately went to get the suitcase as he prepared to disembark.
Mr. Hampson looked at him disdainfully. "Mr. Lenoir asked you to go outside and gather information. Why are you bothering with the suitcase? Put it down!" Otto didn't know what to say. Under Mr. Hampson's stern gaze, he found himself slowly putting the suitcase back down.
Mr. Hampson shooed Otto off as he grabbed the suitcase himself. As he hefted the suitcase, he muttered, "That Otto Walkins usually goes everywhere with just a backpack, but this the's bringing a suitcase. I bet he's collected a lot of delicious food from Shawbury!" Damien rubbed his temples, not particularly interested in Mr. Hampson's gossip. "How do you know it's food he's carrying and not something else?" "What else could it be? He's got no one to give him gifts in Shawbury. Besides, considering how much you pay him, he could probably afford anything he wants without having to pack it himself. So I guess that he must be carrying sdelightful Shawbury specialty, and thinking about it is what's making him so absent-minded." Damien reclined back in his leather seat, his gaze fixed on the nearby map of the sea. A Shawbury specialty... he remembered Cherise talking about it before. She said she would prepare a lot of delicious food and local specialties from Shawbury for him when they were there together. But now...
He shook his head in resignation. "Just put it away." Mr. Hampson tilted his head as he studied Damien's demeanor. "Sir, shall I open it and take something out for you to eat? Perhaps eating something from your wife's hometown might help you relax a bit." Damien shook his head. "The suitcase doesn't belong to me.""But Otto would surely be happy to share." Mr. Hampson had been wracking his brains for ways and excuses to please Damien since angering Damien earlier. So, he decided to open the suitcase anyway despite what Damien had said. While Mr. Hampson was busy opening the suitcase, Damien directed all his attention to the current situation. He studied the map, calculating where everyone would be: where Beckham might have landed as well as where Mr. Gray and his men would be stationed. Until he heard an outcry.
"Mrs. Lenoir?!" Mr. Hampson's shocked voice suddenly cried out.
Damien furrowed his brows and glanced over at Mr. Hampson, who was stumbling over his feet as he ran back to Damien. "S-Sir, you need to take a look. It is... Mrs. Lenoir!" Damien immediately dropped everything and strode towards the other end of the cabin where the suitcase was. The suitcase that had belonged to Otto had now been opened, and curled up inside lay a petite and slender woman resting her head on a pink pillow with a pink shoulder bag cradled in her arms. Her dark hair partially obscured her face, but not enough to hide her identity from the two men who stared agape at her. It was none other than Damien's supposedly drunk wife, Cherise.
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