"Isn’t this what you wanted, Mr. Grant?" she said, her voice devoid of life, her head buzzing.
The man glanced at the wound on his open palm, then roared at her, furious, "Go get the first-aid kit."
Natalie Morgan didn’t move.
He bellowed, "Are you deaf? Go!"
Natalie Morgan stood frozen for a mont before finally turning to get the first-aid kit. She placed it in front of Theodore Grant.
He looked up at her. "You expect to do it myself? How am I supposed to do it?"
"I understand."
She took out the rubbing alcohol and washed the blood from his palm. Then, she disinfected it with iodine, sprinkled on so dicated powder, and wrapped it round and round with gauze before tying a knot.
Her movents were fluid, delicate, and gentle, as if she had done this countless tis before.
"It’s done," she said.
"Useless at everything else, but you’re quick enough with this," he couldn’t resist sniping.
Natalie Morgan didn’t rise to the bait.
She’d heard so many of his snide, passive-aggressive remarks that she was used to ignoring them.
"Why did you stop from dying? Isn’t this what you wanted?"
A smirk played on his lips as he shot her a sideways glance. "Did you really think I wanted to find a corpse in my house?"
’So that’s why.’
’He was just afraid of it being an eyesore.’
She fell silent.
"I can hold off on sending you to the police for now. But Natalie Morgan, I will get to the bottom of whether or not you stabbed Wanda Lynch. If it really was you, you will pay the price."
Natalie Morgan listened in silence.
’If he actually investigates with his eyes open, the truth will naturally co out.’
’But if he does it with his eyes closed, then who knows?’
"However, you can make up for it."
She looked up, stunned, not quite understanding what he ant. "Make up for it?"
"Later, you’re going to accompany to a social function," he said.
Natalie Morgan didn’t want to go.
She remained silent.
He glanced sideways at her. "We’re going to see Miles Wallace in Sudwich. Mr. Wallace. His wife also enjoys playing the guzheng. You two should have plenty to talk about."
"You should... take your secretary."
She didn’t want to force herself to do sothing she hated.
"I can make up for it in other ways."
The man just scoffed. "Natalie Morgan, what right do you have to negotiate with ? If you want your mother’s clinical trial to be halted, and for Thomas Morgan to spend another year inside, then by all ans, feel free not to go."
Anger flared in Natalie Morgan.
The man’s icy voice rang out again. "I hear that clinical trial your mother is in has a very good chance of waking her up. If it’s stopped midway, it could trigger a vascular rupture. She might... die."
Natalie Morgan shook her head. Looking at his handso face, bitterness flooded her heart.
Her voice trembled with emotion. "Could you be any more despicable? Do you have to keep threatening with my family? What ’make up for it’? Just say it’s an order and get it over with."
"Natalie Morgan, you are Mrs. Grant. You have an obligation to cooperate with ."
He raised an eyebrow, the hint of a mocking smile lurking in his eyes.
Theodore Grant had his own ulterior motive for making Natalie Morgan accompany him.
He had a hidden agenda.
Miles Wallace was a difficult man to deal with.
They had been negotiating the joint project since before the New Year. Now, almost a year later, he still hadn’t budged.
With nearly a billion in profits on the line, the Grant Group was unwilling to give up.
By chance, Theodore Grant had learned that Miles Wallace’s wife was one of Natalie Morgan’s university classmates.
They were in the guzheng club together.
They had been quite close.
Miles Wallace’s first wife had been with him for ten years without bearing children. After their divorce, he married his current wife, who was not only young and beautiful but had also given him twin sons within a year.
He was overjoyed to have sons so late in life.
He doted on his current wife and complied with her every wish.
Relying on this connection, he could easily break the deadlock and seal the deal.
"Here are your clothes. Go get changed." Theodore Grant handed Natalie Morgan an exquisitely wrapped box.
Without a word, she went upstairs and changed.
It was an aqua blue, high-couture dress. It wasn’t her size and hung a little loosely on her fra.
At the sight of her,
The man’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything.
Since they were visiting their ho, he couldn’t very well go as a future business partner.
On the way there, Theodore Grant gave her a few instructions. "This project with Mr. Wallace is very important to the Grant Group. Watch what you say and don’t offend him."
Natalie Morgan said nothing.
She understood the subtext. If she ssed this up, her family would suffer.
Before he knocked on the door,
He took her hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Natalie Morgan felt a surge of repulsion and wanted to pull her hand away, but she silently gave up the struggle.
"Wipe that miserable look off your face," he reminded her.
Natalie Morgan faintly twitched her lips.
After the doorbell rang,
a servant opened the door for them.
They had only taken a few steps inside when Miles Wallace erged to greet them. "Mr. Grant! What an honor. Forgive for not eting you at the door. Quick, please, co in."
"Mr. Wallace, you’re being too kind."
"Quick, quick, inside please." Miles Wallace took the gift from Theodore Grant’s hands and passed it to a servant. "Go on, ask my wife to co down. Tell her our guests are here."
"Yes, sir."
Only then did Miles Wallace turn his attention to the quiet woman at Theodore’s side.
Beneath her delicate, arched brows were a pair of eyes as bright as stars. Her skin was so fair it was almost translucent—at a glance, one could tell she was a pampered lady from a wealthy family.
She seed shy, but her posture was poised and elegant, without a hint of provincial awkwardness.
"And this is...?"
"This is my wife, Natalie Morgan." Theodore Grant smiled at her. "Natalie, this is Mr. Wallace."
Natalie Morgan gave a small smile. "A pleasure to et you, Mr. Wallace."
"So this is your wife."
He was a little surprised. Everyone knew Theodore Grant was married, but very few had ever seen his wife.
The internet was mostly filled with gossip about Theodore Grant and Wanda Lynch.
Wanda Lynch’s looks couldn’t even be compared to the woman standing before him.
It was also because of Theodore Grant’s many rumors—so true, so false—that he had been hesitant to agree to a partnership.
A man’s first duty, after all, was to love his family and dote on his wife.
That shouldn’t have anything to do with business negotiations, of course.
But he, Wade, was a stubborn man.
"Mr. Grant, your wife is so young and beautiful! You should bring her out more often."
"Nattie is a bit shy."
Miles Wallace smiled, then his eyes casually fell upon the gauze wrapped around both of their hands. He teased, "It seems Mr. Grant has a thing for quiet, shy girls. Even your injuries are a matching set."
"Now, Mr. Wallace, you’re making fun of us," Theodore Grant said, laughing along.
He then squeezed Natalie’s hand tighter.
"Mr. Grant, you’re so young and successful. Even soone like , who doesn’t really follow the news, sees you on TV all the ti."
The implication being: his scandals were everywhere.
"The dia these days... they love to blow things out of proportion. They don’t report on actual business, but if I happen to et an old friend, they spin it into so kind of sordid affair. It’s a real headache, I tell you."
He turned to Natalie Morgan, his gaze full of affection. "Thankfully, my wife is very understanding and knows none of it is true. Otherwise, I’d have a lot of explaining to do."
As he spoke, he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
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