"You can always find another wife, but you only have one grandfather. Can’t you get that straight? If you can’t even think clearly about this, how can I trust you with the Grant Group in the future?"
Theodore Grant said nothing more.
Finally, he forced out, "I’ll go ask Felix."
Natalie Morgan was so quiet it was as if she didn’t exist.
A ddleso relative still ca over to gossip with her. "Natalie, I heard your blood has so kind of antibody. It looks like the important task of saving Grandpa falls on your shoulders. When he gets better, you should have Theodore reward you handsoly."
"That antibody only appears during pregnancy. Look how skinny Natalie is. Does she look pregnant to you?"
"Maybe she’s not far along, so it doesn’t show. Isn’t that right, Natalie?"
Natalie Morgan didn’t say a word.
The person was pulled away, but their voice carried from a short distance. "She’s like a block of wood, what’s the point of talking to her? It’s not her place to make decisions for the Grant family anyway. When the ti cos for her blood and the antibody, all it will take is one word from Theodore."
"Don’t talk nonsense."
"How is that nonsense? Everyone knows she threw herself at Theodore back then and he didn’t even want her. If it weren’t for the fact that she’s sowhat useful, why would the Grant family marry a woman like her? If she really saves the old man, Theodore might even crack a smile for her."
All this idle gossip was giving Natalie Morgan a headache.
’In the eyes of the Grant family, she was just cheap trash.’
Not long ago, so dia outlet had revealed that her blood could save the Grant family’s patriarch.
All sorts of analyses, each sounding perfectly logical, speculated on how many days she had left to live.
As for the Grant family’s distant relatives, several waves had already co to play matchmaker for Theodore Grant.
There were plenty of people waiting to take her place.
And the number of people hoping she would die soon was simply countless.
Theodore Grant ran out from inside.
Seeing Natalie Morgan still standing at the entrance of the hospital building, he caught his breath and walked over.
"It’s raining, Theodore Grant." She raised a hand to catch the scattered raindrops, her voice faint and distant. "On the day we got our marriage license, it was raining just like this, not too heavy, not too light. People say that rain on your wedding day ans the marriage is dood to be unhappy for a lifeti."
"Superstition."
She blinked, a faint smile on her lips. "When are you planning to take my blood?"
"Who said anything about taking your blood? Are you pregnant?" He irritably tugged at his collar, revealing a patch of tanned skin.
The rain fell harder and harder.
It was whipped into a frenzy by the wind, just like her long hair at that mont.
"Let’s go ho." He took her hand.
Natalie Morgan looked up at Theodore Grant’s somber profile.
’He was so incredibly handso.’
’They say you shouldn’t et soone too breathtaking when you’re young. It will be your ruin.’
’At first, she didn’t believe it. Now, she did.’
"Theodore Grant, when are we getting a divorce then?"
"When I’m dead."
He had no intention of arguing with her about this.
Taking her hand, he walked into the rain.
The rain soaked his hair. He took off his jacket and held it over their heads, but angled most of it to shield her.
Inside the car, there was a faint sll of tobacco.
For a long ti now, he hadn’t let her sit in the front passenger seat.
’As a woman, she naturally understood the implication.’
On the rare occasions she was allowed in his car, she would obediently get in the back. She didn’t dare make too much noise; even her posture was perfectly ladylike.
"Theodore Grant, can I ask you for sothing?"
"If it’s about Thomas Morgan, don’t even bring it up." His tone was as cold as ever.
’She knew it. He wouldn’t give in so easily.’
’If he didn’t have any leverage over her, how could he wrap her around his little finger?’
"It’s not." Her voice was impossibly cold.
Theodore Grant glanced at her, his brows furrowing slightly. "What else could you want? If you’re thinking of going back to work at Sean Lane’s art studio, don’t even think about it."
’He blocked every path for her.’
’Leaving her with no way forward and no way to retreat.’
"I want to find a stable job. I’m asking you to give a chance to live."
"I give you 100,000 a month and you turn it down, insisting on going out to earn a few thousand?" His dark eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping in. "Are your real intentions elsewhere, or has Natalie Morgan suddenly beco a brave and independent woman?"
Every word he spoke dripped with sarcasm. Natalie Morgan turned her head away, refusing to look at him.
He grabbed her chin, forcing her to et his gaze. "Natalie Morgan, you still haven’t told what you did with Sean Lane today."
"Didn’t you see for yourself?"
’What could they possibly have done in broad daylight?’
"You did nothing?"
"Do you think everyone is like you, enjoying themselves in a car in broad daylight?"
"I’m telling you, for every ti you et with Sean Lane, I’ll make sure Thomas Morgan stays in there for another year. Go ahead and try if you don’t believe it."
His lips hovered near hers. He knew that for Thomas Morgan’s sake, Natalie Morgan would behave.
She said nothing.
Most of the ti, she would protest silently, just like this.
Halfway there, Wanda Lynch called again.
She was sobbing and whimpering.
Theodore Grant dropped Natalie Morgan off and drove to the hospital.
In the cold rain, she hugged herself tightly and took refuge in a nearby bus station, having no other choice.
A white Porsche pulled up in front of her.
The window rolled down. "Natalie."
Natalie Morgan looked up. "Felix."
"How did you get so soaked? Get in the car, quickly." Felix Finch grabbed a thick towel from the back seat and handed it to Natalie Morgan. "Didn’t you bring an umbrella?"
"Thank you, Felix." She took the towel and started drying her drenched hair.
"I saw you leave with Theodore, so I thought he would take you ho..." As he spoke, he glanced at Natalie Morgan again.
She lifted her face and gave a faint smile. "He has a more important woman to be with."
"Actually, Wanda Lynch..." It wasn’t hard to guess.
"Felix, I can’t deal with that right now."
Felix Finch didn’t press the issue. "Oh, right. I saw Claire yesterday. She said you’re looking for a job. I rember you were the president of the Guzheng Club in college. I’m not mistaken, am I?"
Natalie Morgan had been raised in luxury by the Lynch Family since she was a child.
She was well-versed in the four classical arts: the zither, Go, calligraphy, and painting.
In college, she developed a passion for traditional music and picked up the guzheng she had learned as a child.
She loved to wear Hanfu and sit there plucking the strings, exuding an ethereal aura.
After getting married, she played it once at ho, and Theodore Grant brutally smashed her instrunt in two.
From then on, she never played again.
If Felix Finch hadn’t ntioned it, she would have forgotten.
"Felix, you still rember that."
"You were the campus belle back then, quite a prominent figure." He didn’t dwell on it, afraid Natalie Morgan might read too much into it. "Anyway, a friend of mine just opened a high-end thed restaurant, and he happens to be looking for a guzheng player. If you’re interested, I can make an introduction."
Natalie Morgan didn’t reply.
’She really wanted to go, but she was afraid of implicating soone else because of her.’
Seeing her hesitate, Felix Finch added, "The work isn’t too tiring, actually. One session at noon and one in the evening, two hours each. It pays one thousand a day."
"That’s not it. I’m just afraid Theodore Grant..."
"Worried Theodore will cause trouble?"
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