Three Little Guardian Angels Chapter 2042

The next day, Daisie looked for Waylon in the room next to hers. She was about to knock when she
realized the door was not exactly closed. She peered through the lean crack and saw Waylon talking to
a man in front of his window.

“You sure that was Neal Beck?” The man nodded.

“Yes. I dug a little deeper, too. All they know it‘s that he‘s some sort of VIP Cameron Southern met
while conducting business abroad. He was obviously very well regarded, considering how Mr. Southern
later made him the governor of The Commune traditionally The Serpents‘ territory.”

Waylon narrowed his eyes.

‘Neal Beck... A stranger the Southern heir brought home.‘ Had he not already known Nollace was
rescued by Cameron, he would have never suspected ‘Neal Beck‘ to be a pseudonym.

This Neal had to be Nollace.

“Please continue your work. See if you can gather more useful information.” The man gave a small
nod.

“Understood.”

Daisie ducked behind the wall the moment the man turned. When the door was yanked open, she
came out of hiding and assumed the pretense of having just arrived. “Hey, Waylon!”

The man froze in mid–walk. He turned to his boss. Waylon nodded.



The man left, and the older brother fixed his eyes on Daisie. “Heard it all?” Daisie smiled disarmingly.
“What? No! No way! I just came here!” Waylon walked up to her and gave a light tap on her head.
“You‘re such a terrible liar.” She scratched the side of her head, embarrassed.

“Fine, fine. You... found some lead to Nolly‘s whereabouts, didn‘t you?”

“More or less.” Waylon started toward the couch. He fell into his seat and picked up his coffee. “But you
still can‘t see him at the moment.”

“It‘s not like I must see him, okay?” She protested as she hastily took her seat next to him. Lowering
her voice, she added, “I just... want to make sure he‘s okay.”

Waylon laughed and cast a lopsided glance at her. “Oh, he‘s very okay.” “Anyway, Saydie said Sunny is
willing to join hands with the Metropolis. Is that true?” “That‘s right.” He sipped his coffee and set the
cup down. “Sunny undoubtedly decided to join this alliance after considering his family‘s future. Even
the mightiest adversary becomes surmountable when you have a powerful ally.” Regardless of the
Southern Clan‘s strength, they still had more than enough reasons to worry about Fabio‘s expansionist
ambition. It was only natural that the Southern Clan would consider joining an alliance. Daisie smiled.
“Cameron‘s the heir, isn‘t he? If we buddy up with him now, it‘s gonna benefit you a lot in the future,
right?”

Waylon shifted his attention to her. He could not stifle his laughter. “You‘re actually giving your big
brother‘s future some thought!”

Daisie wrapped her arms around his. “And that‘s only because you‘re my big brother! Plus, there‘s also
that lady who‘s on her way to being a spinster, Florence Serrano. We gotta worry about it. I think she
has her eyes set on you, but I‘m not about to let just any woman become my sister–in–law. Especially
not someone so massively unqualified as her!”



There was no way they could avoid crossing paths with Florence—they had already offended her.
Meanwhile, Cameron looked to be around their age, and he did not seem like a nasty person to boot.
Not only could they count on him for cooperation, but he could be the shield defending Waylon from
Florence‘s advances.

Waylon saw through her thoughts almost a little too handily. He pinched her nose as though he could
not believe her. “Do you know what your plan entails? I‘m gonna have to flatter someone‘s ego for it to
work!”

Daisie cracked out a grin. “Well, if we‘re gonna rely on him a little, then what‘s the harm in flattering our
ally‘s ego?” A few days passed... Cameron slept all the way to the afternoon before a commotion from
downstairs stirred him. He heard approaching footsteps shuffling to a stop right outside the draping
curtains, which separated Cameron‘s quarter from the world outside. The maid reported, “Mr. Serrano
had come to talk to Mr. Southern.” Cameron sat up. Long, raven–black hair spread out like a tapestry
from his head. “What‘s he doing here?”


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