Honey, You're a Billionaire by Chandler Solar

Chapter 390 Bad Feeling

Finley spotted Jonathan coming out of Young Estate and hurriedly handed him the phone. "Mr. Finch, Mrs. Finch Senior... Mrs. Finch Senior wants you to check your phone. She also said you must answer the

call..."

He gave Jonathan a look as if to say, "Save yourself."

Jonathan fished out his phone. Sure enough, there were several missed calls from Finch Manor. He gave Finley a brief hum in response and took the phone from him.

"Grandma-"

No sooner had the word left his mouth did Eleanor's snort come from the other side. "Grandma, huh? Here I was thinking you'd forgotten about me."

"As if," Jonathan said lightly. "What is it? Sorry, I missed your calls. I was at Mr. Young Senior's funeral."

Eleanor's displeasure waned when she heard this. She said, "I see. I called to ask you to head to Rise Entertainment. The person in charge quit, and I need you to run things for a while."

Rise Entertainment? The Finch Group had countless enterprises under its umbrella, and Rise Entertainment was only an entertainment agency. He couldn't help wondering why Eleanor was asking him to run

it.

Jonathan asked, "Grandma, why don't you come right out and tell me

him that she was trying to set him and Yara up, he would never agree to it.

Ezra. He and I had words on a few

said he fell for a young woman called Something-Shaffer. When I asked him for her full name so that I could track her down, he refused to tell me. Maybe you can talk to him and find out." Jonathan considered the information Eleanor had given him. His gaze darkened as he said,

to persuade him to take up the job and was surprised to hear him

"Yes," Jonathan answered.

confirmation, Eleanor nodded in satisfaction. "So you do still care about your brother after

brow but kept his tone neutral as he drawled, "Well, of course." However, Eleanor could not see the smirk that now

on some hot tea when he suddenly felt a chill run down his

artist next to him, asking, "Hey,

artist gave him a bewildered look as if to ask, "What are you talking

it's like this weird... chill-down-your-spine kind of feeling?" Ezra thought his description was spot-on. It was a bad feeling that made

artist glanced

grtist

windows were closed, and the weather outside did not indicate a drop intemperature. The air

е

ve

was no draught in the room, so the makeup artist chalked Ezra's so-called "weird feeling" up

She raised