Chapter: 1653

The car made its way into the mansion and proceeded to drive a short distance until Rachel caught sight of the open-air parking lot that Alberto had mentioned. She quickly stationed the car and got out. As she pondered which way to proceed, she noticed Alberto a short distance away, appearing as though he had been awaiting her arrival.

Caught off guard, she approached him.

“Mr. Gibson..."

“This place is enormous. The main building is still quite a distance away from here." Alberto offered an explanation, seeming to grasp her line of thought.

Rachel nodded in understanding.

Following his explanation, Alberto began propelling his wheelchair forward at a leisurely pace, allowing Rachel to keep stride with him.

The two maintained a silence throughout their way.

The place was undeniably big and extravagant. It took them approximately thirty minutes of walking before the main building finally came into view.

From a distance, the main building exuded an air of classical elegance. The rooftop was constructed with tiles, and the two-story structure housed a guest reception area on the first floor, while the second was primarily utilized for dining, serving primarily as a space to entertain guests.

Behind the main building, a long winding corridor connected all the auxiliary buildings of the mansion. The Gibson family resided in the first five of these structures, while the remaining were designated as guest quarters.

This mansion took on a slightly desolate appearance after their departure, but...

Wasn't it just a tad too chilly now?

Rachel approached the main building, and its features gradually became more distinct. The first floor was dimly lit with only a few lights on. The surroundings were enveloped in tranquility, and even the gentle rustling of trees could be heard in the serene atmosphere.

Throughout her journey from the gate to this point, she had not encountered a single servant.

Had the Gibson family dismissed all their household servants?

Surely, there had to be someone remaining, right?

The sound of the wheelchair lock clicking jolted Rachel back from her musings. Unbeknownst to her, she had trailed Alberto into the main building, where she was greeted by the sight of the plush mahogany furnishings, evoking an aura of grandeur.

"Mr. Gibson?"

"The kitchen is located on the 2nd floor," Alberto responded, his voice soft.

"What?" Rachel's surprise was evident. A kitchen? What kitchen?

"Well... Didn't you say that you can cook?" Alberto pivoted the wheelchair, facing Rachel directly, his expression devoid of any discernible emotion.

Rachel suddenly understood and said, "You asked if I knew how to cook because you wanted me to come and cook for you?"

Alberto's thin lips remained firmly set, not uttering a word, but his intention was unmistakable.

Rachel's lips twitched. She felt an urge to question if he was joking. He called her all the way from downtown to the suburbs just to request her assistance in preparing a meal?