Chapter 0091
Such particular demands!
“Ms. Agatha is well aware of Master Lucius’s temperament when he’s working, so…”
Violet had no choice but to take the plate after hearing George’s explanation.
Lucius was, as before, surrounded by multiple computers, adeptly controlling operations with a joystick. Despite the myriad of flashing screens, he appeared unbothered, handling everything with ease and precision.
He seemed aware of her presence immediately, calling out “Come here” as she entered, his voice tinged with a hint of urgency, likely due to hunger.
Violet came closer, and he once again drew her into his arms.
His hand was burning hot.
While
she embraced him, he continued working on his computer, Violet’s presence obstructed him.
Each time he moved, he would slightly bump into her, unintentionally drawing them closer.
She questioned how this hadn’t affected his work.
Without a word from him to leave, she reluctantly began feeding him. He ate quickly, finishing in
just a few minutes.
Attempting to pull away, she found herself restrained by his tightening grip, “Stay here!”
Consequently, she found herself confined within his arms, observing him work on the computer.
His breath lightly brushed her, hovering near her nose. His large hand occasionally bumped
her, causing her to wobble.
“Grab onto me!”
He hastily guided her hand around his waist.
Baffled, she wondered how he could remain focused on his work in such a situation.
Lucius didn’t show any signs of discomfort, while Violet, anxious not to disturb him, broke into a sweat.
A single error could disrupt the rapid sequence of numbers on his screen.
The sound of keyboard tapping filled the air.
+15 BONOS
Violet felt incredibly bored, yearning to be outside, even if just for simple outdoor activities. That seemed preferable to being seated on his lap.
Eventually, she couldn’t hold back and softly asked, “May I…”
“Nol” he quickly silenced her, pressing her head down, not even considering her request.
Violet, feeling discomfort in her neck, protested. “But… It’s really dull.”
“Then let’s chat.”
“Chat?”
She hesitated to even breathe too loudly, unsure if speaking was allowed. She gave him a
doubtful glance.
He offered a small smile. “My work isn’t so restrictive that I can’t talk.”
She found it unbelievable that he could manage the rapid data on his screens and still converse.
“Aren’t your eyes strained with all this constant flashing?” she ventured.
“No,” he replied, his hand adeptly operating a key.
“Do you actually keep track of everything on the screen?”
“Absolutely. It’s crucial to memorize each number set on these computers for precise control.”
“Right, what’s the second–to–last row of numbers on the first computer?”
He quickly uttered a series of numbers.
Violet blinked. She only caught the last few digits. Despite her close observation, she couldn’t comprehend how he did it.
“You’re lying.”
“I don’t play games with money,” he responded, indirectly addressing her accusation.
Violet fell silent.
Two hours later, he hit the Enter key, bringing a momentary pause to the computer’s activity.
He reclined back, indicating his work was finished.
As Violet tried to leave his lap, he effortlessly pulled her back against him, enveloping her in his
“Check if this is the set of numbers you asked about.”
The last digits matched what she remembered, confirming his accuracy.
+15 BONOS
“How can you be so skilled?” she asked in amazement, reevaluating him.
He simply hummed, appearing cool on the outside but evidently pleased inside.
“It’s just a minor talent.”
Violet recalled a variety show where such skills were showcased, realizing world champions were at similar levels. It seemed the world champions were only as good as him.
“Is your IQ…really high?”
“230”
“2…30?” Violet was astounded. Normally, an IQ between 120 and 140 was considered high,
but 230 was extraordinary.
“You aren’t…misleading me?”
“Possibly, but that’s what Mensa assessed.”
Mensa, the renowned high–IQ society? Violet couldn’t help but view him with a newfound respect.
Lucius enjoyed her admiring gaze and continued holding her for the afternoon.
Violet remained tense in his embrace, almost overwhelmed, almost peeing her trousers. She didn’t know how long she would have stayed if it hadn’t been for the pretext of making dinner.
“Ms. Agatha.”
When he saw her walk out, George smiled with relief and treated her with greater respect.
Rubbing her sore neck, Violet approached George and asked, “Did Lucius really have his IQ tested at Mensa?”
“Yes, he was a member there.”
Violet responded with a simple “Oh“, and then scoffed, “What good is such a high IQ if he can’t even recognize his own wife?”
