Chapter 472
Vincent straightened up immediately, his voice carrying a hint of determination. “Don’t you worry, I’ll find a chance to talk to Mirabella.”
After a pause, he added, somewhat reluctantly, “But don’t get your hopes up too high. She’s Ivy League–bound, with a future as bright as the Fourth of July. And it’s not just her – I doubt her folks would agree either.”
Anyone who made it into Prestige College was seen as a pillar of the nation. His grandpa sure had some wild dreams.
Knox had been somewhat appeased by the first part of Vincent’s statement, but the latter part nearly made him blow his top – again.
Vincent cleared his throat and stood up, hastily making an excuse. “Grandpa, I’ve got a mountain of homework to bury myself in tonight, so I better get back. I’ll come straight over after school tomorrow. I won’t let you down, and you can count on that.”
Knox couldn’t even bear to look at him. He just waved his hand dismissively, signaling for him to scram.
Vincent then left the grand hall, instructed the butler to take good care of his grandfather, and left the family estate.
An hour later, he arrived at his place downtown, exchanged a brief hello with his folks, and was about to head upstairs when he suddenly remembered the package Mirabella had mentioned sending him that morning. He halted in his tracks.
“Mom, did we get any packages today?” Vincent asked, turning toward his mother.
“I wasn’t home today,” Aimee shook her head.
It was Vincent’s dad, who looked up and chimed in, “Oh, yeah, there was a delivery. What did you order? It’s a big box and heavy as a sack of potatoes.”
Vincent was momentarily taken aback. A big, heavy box? What on earth did Mira send him?
Following his dad’s gesture toward the storage room, Vincent murmured an acknowledgment and headed in with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. The box was right there by the door, unmistakable in its bulk. It was indeed sizable.
Vincent fetched a pair of scissors and sliced through the tape, and as he peered inside, he froze, unable to process the sight.
A whole box of study materials and at least a hundred different exam papers stared back at him… Vincent suddenly recalled Mirabella’s fleeting look of annoyance that morning when he handed her his own stack of papers.
And then her question, “Are you also competing in the Math Olympiad?” It seemed from that moment on, she had plotted her sweet
revenge.
No wonder her friend had given him that odd look. The trap was set right there.
Vincent’s gaze fell back on the papers inside the box, and he shuddered. He enjoyed a good puzzle, sure, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed being buried in exam papers!
It was as if he could never look at an exam paper the same way again. Quickly, he sealed the box back up. It was too horrific for words.
On the other side of town, Mirabella, having stealthily pulled off her little prank, returned home for dinner and remembered Adler’s data. With that in mind, she headed out once more.
There was a print and copy shop just around the corner from her neighborhood. She strolled over at her leisure. The shop owner was in the middle of his meal, so he told Mirabella to download whatever she needed to print on the computer and then get his attention.
Mirabella hopped onto the owner’s computer, her fingers dancing over the keyboard. After half a minute, she opened the browser, logged into her email, and downloaded the file once again. She decrypted the file, smoothly converted the PowerPoint presentation into a document, and hit ‘Print.‘
> $ 299 8
The shop owner, munching away at his counter, glanced over and saw that Mirabella was managing fine by herself, so he didn’t bother getting up to check.
