The familiar scent of sandalwood entered her nose, inexplicably calming her.
Jas Grant curled his lips up, and smoothly wrapped his arms around her.
"What’s this, can’t wait to throw yourself into my arms?"
Evelyn Clayton, coming to her senses, pushed him away and swept her almond eyes over him coldly: "Daydreaming."
"You’re in such a hurry, where are you going?"
Seeing him act as if it was natural, Evelyn Clayton was annoyed and retorted irritably.
"Why should you care where I’m going? Who are you?"
Jas Grant raised an eyebrow, seemingly in a good mood: "Your man."
She was already accustod to his shalessness.
"Evelyn Clayton, why haven’t you gone yet? Dad is still in the danger zone, can you afford to delay the rescue ti?!"
Witnessing Evelyn Clayton and Jas Grant being lovey-dovey, Matthew Sullivan’s jealousy surged, intentionally using Harrison Grant to apply pressure.
Instantly, the coldness around Jas Grant plumted, his eagle eyes sharp, staring at Evelyn Clayton.
"Are you going to donate blood?"
Evelyn Clayton didn’t want to say much to him, reaching out to push him: "Get out of the way, I have things to do."
She couldn’t push him away; his body was rigid, and he directly grasped her slender wrist, his voice deep.
"You’re not allowed to go."
"Why should I listen to you? Is this how cold-hearted you are when your father is at death’s door?"
Evelyn Clayton grew angry, shaking off his hand, yet inwardly couldn’t help but feel a chill.
During the stalemate, Harrison Grant’s assistant called again to urge.
Matthew Sullivan directly grabbed her phone, feeling smug as he tattled first.
"Tell Dad that his darling son Jas Grant is blocking his lifeline, not letting Evelyn co to donate blood."
The coldness between Jas Grant’s brows plumted, the hostility more intense, with an oppressive aura aid at Matthew Sullivan.
"Matthew Sullivan, as a re dog of the Grant family, is this the only way you can get Harrison Grant to notice you?"
Matthew Sullivan was infuriated by Jas Grant’s mockery, his face twisted: "Jas Grant! What are you so proud of! In the end, Harrison Grant hasn’t spared you a look!"
The pressure from Jas Grant was overwhelming, closing in step by step, like a lion eyeing its prey.
"Really? You’re just so bastard Harrison Grant had with whoever, and now you want a piece of the Grant family’s pie? Matthew Sullivan, you’ve been daydreaming long enough."
"Shut up!"
Evelyn Clayton snapped coldly, irritated, the Grant family’s matters had nothing to do with her.
She wasn’t interested in listening to their argunts over status and power.
At this mont, a luxury car drove into their sight.
Nathan Carter, Harrison Grant’s assistant, drove directly over from the hospital.
"Miss Clayton, please co with ."
Jas Grant stood in front of Evelyn Clayton, doubts filling his mind, his eyes piercing: "What exactly is Dad’s illness? Why does he need such frequent blood transfusions?"
Nathan Carter’s face was indifferent, not responding, instead harshly reprimanding.
"Director Grant, your father is on the verge of death, could pass away at any ti, and you’re stopping Miss Clayton from donating blood to save him? That’s your father, how can you do such an unfilial thing!"
After speaking, Nathan Carter commanded swiftly, waving a big hand.
"Soone, take Miss Clayton away."
Several bodyguards were about to move in directly.
"Who dares touch her!"
Jas Grant’s control exploded, roaring lowly, his whole being exuding hostility mixed with icy bone-chilling coldness, veins bulging on his neck.
Nathan Carter glanced coldly: "Director Grant, this is your father’s wish, stopping it does you no good."
Imdiately, those bodyguards received orders and unhesitatingly charged forward to grab Evelyn Clayton’s hand.
Jas Grant, like a hunting beast, suddenly rushed forward, kicked one of the n hard, and wrestled with the bodyguards.
The bodyguards were rigorously trained, especially since Jas Grant was alone.
Soon, blood oozed from the corner of his mouth, his body covered in wounds, yet he continued holding his ground, blocking Evelyn Clayton.
"Stop!"
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