The Saintess Chose The Wrong Man

Chapter 5

“Finn said you have a lot of connections in the Ivy League? All of them?” the girl asked Lombard, eyes wide.

Girls were… still easy to deal with at this age. That’s why he tolerated her question with a lazy smile.

“Not really,” Lombard said simply.

“What? Finn said that!” she protested, like he was hiding some enormous secret.

“Yeah. I graduated from one of them, got my master’s at another, then my PhD at a third. So… been to three of them,” Lombard explained casually, like he was talking about a grocery list.

Her jaw practically hit the floor.

“How did you do it? Did you have connections? Your parents are rich, right?”

“Huh. Not really. Went on scholarship,” Lombard dropped, like it was nothing. Boom. Mind blown.

“Oh. My. God!” she cried. “Did you… also know people there?”

“Go to any of their offices and you’ll see my name on the lists of professors they’d recruit if given the chance. Plus, I’ve held businesses and academic seminars at all of them. They were all making a fuss.”

Her eyes were about to pop out. Her mouth had been open this whole time. And it was about to get worse.

A man suddenly stepped in front of them. He frowned for a long beat, then took another step closer.

“Lombard August?” the man asked, voice full of disbelief, like he’d just spotted a mythical creature.

“Uncle? Do you know him?” the girl asked.

“What are you talking about?” the man said. “This is the man I’ve been telling you about! He’s everything you need to get into any college!”

Lombard gave a small, polite smile. “Thanks for the hype, sir.”

“And see?” the uncle said, beaming. “I told you, Lombard’s got to be the most humble man on Earth.” He walked over and hugged Lombard. “Where have you been all this time? No news, no scandals… I thought you were dead!”

“I was… dealing with life,” Lombard said, shrugging.

From a distance, Finn’s jaw dropped.

Lombard and the girl had stopped walking. They were now chatting with the owner of a company that generates millions a year.

Holy crap.

Finn sprinted as fast as he could.

“Hold—wait!” Finn wheezed, stopping right in front of them, hands on his knees, gasping for air. “Um—this man right here is Lombard. He’s…”

“Is he your father?” the man asked, a quiet smirk tugging at his lips.

“No—” Finn started, then froze.

Wait.

If Lombard was his father, everything would instantly make sense. No questions. No digging. No embarrassment. Clean exit.

“Yes,” Finn said quickly. “He’s my father.”

Lombard glanced at him.

Didn’t say a word.

“Dad, let’s go,” Finn continued, grabbing Lombard’s hand with a wild grin. “I’ve got a lot of people to show you off to. You are, after all, the walking guide to any Ivy League.”

And before Lombard could react, Finn was already pulling him away.

“I’ll see you later, Lombard!” the girl’s uncle called after them. “I don’t have your number anymore!”

The girl beamed at her uncle. “I’ll get in, right?”

“The heavens smiled on you,” he said proudly. “That’s why you met Lombard.”

Finn didn’t slow down until they were well out of sight.

His chest heaved. Sweat rolled down his back. He wanted—needed—to ask Lombard what he’d just been talking about with that man.

But first, priorities.

He scanned the crowd until he spotted her.

Found you.

The woman his father had mentioned. The one assigned to assist if anything went wrong.

Finn rushed over.

“I’m so sorry,” he blurted out immediately. “But for tonight, you are Lombard’s wife. And you are my mother. Please.”

She stared at him.

“We have to do this to get me this admission,” Finn rushed on. “I don’t want to hear an objection. Please.”

Desperation clung to him like sweat.