Aiden Sinclair slowed his pace, and Clara Jacobs, who was a step behind, quickened her steps to catch up.
Nina Walsh drew nearer, the smile on her face growing more distinct.
Aiden Sinclair stopped in his tracks. Clara Jacobs, also spotting Nina Walsh approaching them, nervously clutched his arm.
"Aiden, Ms. Walsh looks so beautiful today."
Aiden Sinclair tore his gaze away, staring into the distance with an air of utter indifference.
Just then, Nina Walsh brushed past him, heading straight for soone behind them.
"Young Master Preston, I’m sorry to have you et here." Nina Walsh waved at Milo Preston, who had just walked in.
Clara Jacobs glanced back and sighed in relief. "So, she dressed up for Milo Preston. He has a thing for beauties in classic cheongsams."
After she spoke, Clara Jacobs looked up to discreetly observe Aiden Sinclair’s expression. His face stiffened for an instant before a look of disgust and contempt took its place.
...
In a corner of the banquet hall, Declan Grant watched Nina Walsh and Milo Preston leave side-by-side. Wendy Sherman stood beside him, her tone dripping with acid. "Brother Declan, do you know who that is? He’s the young master of the Preston family. Nina is certainly sothing else. She’s only been back a few days and is already Young Master Preston’s girlfriend."
Wendy Sherman was overco with jealousy. Even without Declan Grant, Nina Walsh had sohow managed to land a rich man like Milo Preston.
But then she caught a glimpse of the handso, debonair Declan Grant beside her, and her heart fluttered with excitent again.
’Now that the entire Grant family knows Nina Walsh has a boyfriend, the marriage contract will naturally fall to .’
"Brother Declan, I’m hungry. Can you take to get sothing to eat?" Wendy Sherman asked, clinging to Declan Grant’s arm in a wheedling tone.
"Sorry, I have sothing to attend to. Go eat by yourself." Declan Grant shook her hand off, turned, and walked away briskly.
Left standing there, snubbed, Wendy Sherman seethed with resentnt. Just then, she spotted Brian Sherman coming out of the Grant family’s study and hurried over to him.
"Dad, how did it go? Was it settled?"
Brian Sherman’s face was frosty as he stord out of the Grant family’s main gate and got into his car.
Wendy Sherman held the car door open. "Dad, what’s wrong?"
"Get in. We’re going ho," Brian Sherman snapped.
"Dad, what is going on? Nina Walsh just showed up with a boyfriend. Declan and his mother both saw them. Nina can’t marry into the Grant family now."
Brian Sherman, recalling the humiliation he had just endured in the study, was filled with rage. "That bastard Victor Grant... I hadn’t even opened my mouth before he changed the subject. I don’t think the Grant family has any intention of honoring this marriage contract."
In the study, not only did Victor Grant refuse to acknowledge the marriage contract, but he also canceled several major projects with the Sherman Group.
The excuse was that Nathan Grant had established a connection with Aiden Sinclair. The Grant Group is now developing a scientific research project with the Aethel Group, and all their capital is tied up, so they have no liquid funds to continue their partnership with the Sherman Group.
A headache began to throb in Brian Sherman’s temples. He was anxious to get back to the office and assess the damages, and he didn’t have the patience to explain everything to Wendy. He stomped on the accelerator and sped off.
Wendy Sherman was left standing there, stomping her foot in frustration. She couldn’t understand why nothing was going her way.
’It must be that little bitch, Nina Walsh! She must have said sothing to Declan Grant to sabotage this. There’s no other reason the Grant family would back out of the agreent.’
Just then, her phone screen lit up.
The screen displayed a new ssage: The analysis of the pill’s components is ready.
Wendy Sherman’s eyes widened. She impatiently dialed the number.
...
The Grant family’s engagent party was still in full swing. Aiden Sinclair sat listlessly in his seat, his gaze fixed on the stage as he listened to the mind-numbingly dull speeches.
He rarely attended such events. Although he had recently entered into a partnership with Nathan Grant, he wasn’t well-acquainted with the rest of the Grant family.
However, Clara Jacobs was friends with Nathan Grant’s fiancée, Shirley Thompson, so he was here today as Clara’s plus-one.
At his older brother’s request, Declan Grant had been tasked with keeping Aiden Sinclair company.
Both n were harboring their own secrets, and neither was about to call the other out. They pretended it was their first ti eting, and after a public greeting, they exchanged no further words.
A phone on the table vibrated. Aiden Sinclair glanced over and saw a voice call notification pop up. The profile picture was a yellow lemon.
Yesterday, when Milo Preston had gotten Nina Walsh’s contact info, he had flashed his phone at Aiden, and her profile picture had been that sa lemon.
Declan Grant swiftly picked up the phone and excused himself from the table.
Aiden Sinclair picked up his wine glass and took a large swallow.
Seeing that no one else was nearby, Clara Jacobs leaned in closer. "Look how happy they are. It makes want to get married soon, too. Aiden, when are we going to get engaged?"
Aiden Sinclair swirled the red wine in his glass. "When would you like to?"
A blissful, shy expression crossed Clara’s face. "Well, that depends on when you propose to , Aiden."
Just then, Aiden Sinclair’s phone vibrated. A red notification bubble appeared on his three-way chat with Milo Preston and Caron Lawson. Milo had sent a flurry of ssages, clearly worked up about sothing.
Milo Preston: [AAAAHHH, I’ve struck gold. She’s so much fun!]
Milo Preston: [I had a few drinks, so I asked her to drive ho. You’ll never guess who I ran into!]
Milo Preston: [Julian Sinclair! He tried to run off the road on the overpass, almost pushed my car right off the bridge!]
Julian Sinclair, spoiled by the head of the Sinclair family, had been arrogant and condescending his whole life. He didn’t just clash with Aiden; he was also a sworn enemy of Milo Preston and the other second-generation heirs.
Aiden Sinclair was suddenly wide awake, his eyes glued to his phone. But it was as if Milo was deliberately trying to annoy him; a long mont passed with no follow-up ssage.
Aiden Sinclair held his phone in one hand and his wine glass in the other, drinking one mouthful after another.
Clara Jacobs was still pressing, "Aiden, when are you going to propose to ?"
Milo ca back online and sent a video.
"Soon," Aiden replied, his thumb tapping the screen to open the video.
Nina Walsh’s profile appeared on the screen. She was leaning back against the black leather driver’s seat, both hands on the steering wheel, her expression serene. The scene looked like a traditional ink-wash painting.
The cara slowly panned to the side window, where the streetlights streaked by like shooting stars. Julian Sinclair’s limited-edition Maybach hypercar shot up from behind. But in a matter of seconds, with a deafening roar of an engine, the Maybach vanished from the rearview mirror. The cara then panned to the speedoter, displaying a number that would make any man’s jaw drop.
Milo Preston: "Did you see that?! My three-million-dollar Ferrari actually outran Julian Sinclair’s thirty-million-dollar Maybach! If I hadn’t recorded this, you guys would’ve said I was full of it!"
Milo Preston: "Let’s see Julian Sinclair try to act all high and mighty in front of now."
Caron Lawson, who had been silent until now, was finally drawn out: "This girl looks so gentle, but she drives like a beast. Is she a professional racer?"
"Aiden? What’s that interesting video on your phone? Let see."
Seeing Aiden staring at his phone, Clara Jacobs leaned over to get a look. Aiden snapped back to reality and placed his phone face down on the table.
"It’s nothing. Just watching a fraud put on a show."
"A fraud?"
Aiden Sinclair picked up his glass again and downed the rest of his red wine in one go.
’And a fraud she was.’
’Two years ago, it was Nina Walsh whose terrible driving had caused her to crash into him. She was a con artist who wove lies into every fiber of her being.’
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