The Saintess Chose The Wrong Man

Chapter 4

“Lomb has been my friend for years,” his father replied, confused. “What are you talking about? We just lost contact for a while. You would’ve seen us at dinners together. Vacations. Everything.”

“Dad, please tell me this is a joke. Stop it. He doesn’t know anything about Ivy League schools. I swear he doesn’t.”

A pause.

“Finn, can you call me back later?” his father said distractedly. “Something needs my attention right now.”

The call ended.

Finn stared at his phone.

His chest tightened.

Tonight was already spiraling out of control. Goodbye to the University of Pennsylvania. Maybe goodbye to every school he’d ever planned on impressing. He might have to start looking elsewhere.

He glanced toward the sitting room.

Lombard was still there.

And somehow, that made Finn feel like crying.

Forty minutes later, they arrived at the venue.

Finn had already given strict instructions to the driver: park at the back. Far from the main entrance. No one was supposed to see Lombard before they made their way to their seats.

He had even gone so far as to announce—loudly, embarrassingly—to the entire high school: “Guess who’s coming with me? The breath and life of Ivy league!!”

“Just pass this place,” Finn whispered to Lombard, nodding toward a side entrance. “It’s like a secret route. Don’t worry. We’ll catch up with the others and still sit in the space allocated for us.”

So far, the plan was foolproof.

Until it wasn’t.

“Hey, Finn!”

Finn froze.

The voice was painfully familiar.

“Is that the man who’s got connections in the Ivy League?”

A girl came running toward them, eyes wide with excitement.

“Were you trying to hide him from us? Don’t bother—my parents can’t wait to meet him. They’re at the front of the hall right now.”

Finn’s stomach dropped.

Lombard had no idea why Finn was acting so… odd.

He didn’t bother to ask.

For real, he had planned to make the night enjoyable. But the moment he realized the boy was just… one of those high school kids—obsessed with Ivy League dreams and thinking they knew better than everyone else—Lombard lost interest immediately.

“Please, Finn,” the girl who had run up to them said brightly.

“Lead the way,” Lombard said. He had no intention of standing here all night, and he couldn’t understand the shock on Finn’s face anyway.

“Please… can we talk?” Finn asked quickly, trying to pull Lombard aside.

Lombard raised a brow.

“Please, can we just not pass the front door?” Finn begged.

“Why?” Lombard asked sharply.

“Because… I have a phobia. And it… it’s worse,” Finn stammered. Lombard could tell he was lying. Of course he could. But he didn’t care enough to extract the truth. If Finn wanted to lie, that was on him.

“You know what? I’m not a fan of back doors,” Lombard said, shrugging. Then he turned and walked toward the girl without waiting for another word from Finn.

Finn ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath, “Fuck you, Dad.”

Too focused on the fear that Lombard might embarrass him, Finn didn’t notice the conversation happening right in front of him. The conversation between Lombard and the girl.