On the Day I Was Kicked Out of the Wealthy Family, I Had a Flash Marriage with a Tycoon Chapter 199: Impossible in This Lifetime

Chairman Sinclair raised his hand again, but Tristan caught it mid-air. "That’s enough," Tristan said coldly.

"Tristan Sinclair, don’t even think about making leave Crestfall!"

"You don’t have a choice," Tristan said coldly. "Just like my mom didn’t back then."

At his words, Chairman Sinclair’s expression changed. "So you really do still hate because of your mother. Your mother and I had no feelings for each other anymore. Forcing it wouldn’t have made anyone happy."

Tristan sneered. "That’s not what you said when you used my maternal grandfather’s influence to beco the president of The Sinclair Group."

Chairman Sinclair’s expression grew uglier. These were matters he was most reluctant to bring up.

Tristan released him and said again, "Let know when you’ve decided where you want to go. I’ll make the arrangents." After speaking, he looked at the subordinate beside him. "Escort Chairman Sinclair ho."

"I don’t need you to escort !" Chairman Sinclair shoved him aside and strode away.

Dean Lynch imdiately stepped forward. Looking at Tristan’s slightly red cheek, he asked softly, "President Sinclair, why didn’t you dodge?"

Tristan didn’t say a word and strode to the study.

Dean Lynch imdiately followed.

After entering the study, Tristan took a USB drive from a drawer, tossed it onto the desk, and ordered, "Crack its password before midnight tonight and pull out everything on it!"

Dean Lynch picked up the USB drive from the desk and examined it carefully, looking sowhat troubled. "This is..."

"What? You can’t do it?"

"It’s a custom-made USB drive, so it is a bit difficult. I’ll do my best to crack it."

"This isn’t about ’doing your best.’ You *have* to crack it."

Dean Lynch nodded. "Understood. But I’ll need my other computer for this."

Tristan: "Have soone bring it to you."

Dean Lynch: "..."

The big boss was in a bad mood, so he didn’t dare to disobey. He imdiately took out his phone and called Jean Kensington, asking her to bring his computer over.

「One hour later.」

Jean Kensington arrived at The Sinclair Residence with the computer.

Seeing Tristan Sinclair drinking, she paused for a mont. ’What happened to his face?’

’It looks like he was hit. Who would dare lay a hand on Tristan Sinclair!?’

Chairman Sinclair had put his full force into that slap. Tristan’s cheek was still a little red and swollen.

Jean didn’t dare to stare. She only glanced at him, greeted, "President Sinclair," and then handed the computer to Dean Lynch. "Uncle, here’s your computer."

Dean Lynch took the computer. "Mm, thanks for bringing it."

"Why be so polite?"

Jean really wanted to ask what happened to Tristan’s face, but she didn’t dare to do it in front of him. She decided to text Dean Lynch and ask after she left.

"Well, I’ll be going then."

"Okay, be careful on your way."

Just as Jean was about to turn, Tristan suddenly spoke up. "Wait."

"Hm?" Jean looked at him, confused. "What is it?"

"Have you had dinner?"

Jean shook her head, then imdiately nodded.

Tristan frowned. "What’s with the shaking and nodding?"

Jean: "I’ve eaten."

"Then eat again." After speaking, Tristan looked at the butler and ordered, "Go and prepare dinner."

Jean looked at him, then at Dean Lynch, completely bewildered.

Before Dean Lynch could speak, Tristan suddenly added, "How co you’ve gotten more and more disobedient as you’ve grown up?"

"..."

Jean complained internally, ’Why should I have to listen to you?’

’You’re not my dad!’

Tristan put down his drink, his deep eyes fixed on her. "It’s just a al. Is it that difficult?"

Jean: "But I’ve already eaten."

Tristan glanced down at his watch. "It’s only a little after five, and you’ve already had dinner?"

Jean was montarily speechless. Fine, she hadn’t actually eaten, but she didn’t want to stay for dinner.

As if sensing her thoughts, Tristan added, "If you don’t eat, your uncle can forget about having dinner either!"

Dean Lynch: "..."

Jean looked at her uncle, paused for a mont, and then said, "Alright, fine."

In truth, Tristan didn’t have any other intentions. He just suddenly wanted her to stay and add a bit of life to the empty villa.

When dinner was ready, the three of them went to the dining room.

Halfway through the al, Jean couldn’t hold back any longer and asked, "President Sinclair, your face... what happened?"

Tristan glanced at her sideways. "I was hit. Can’t you tell?"

"Who would be so bold as to hit you?"

Dean Lynch cleared his throat. "Jean, don’t pry."

But Tristan said, "Chairman Sinclair."

’So his own father hit him.’

Jean understood now. That explained it. Tristan had been making moves recently, planning to sideline Chairman Sinclair and seize full control. It seed the Chairman had found out.

’He really didn’t hold back.’

"Do you want to put so ointnt on it?" Jean asked.

Tristan was about to say no, but the words changed as they left his lips. "You can help apply it later."

Jean: "..."

’That’s not what I ant at all.’

Dean Lynch watched the two of them, a complex look flashing in his eyes.

After dinner, the three of them returned to the living room.

Tristan instructed the butler to bring the ointnt and then handed it to Jean.

Jean looked at the ointnt in her hand, then at Tristan’s handso face, and her heart couldn’t help but beat a few clicks faster.

Seeing her standing there motionless, Tristan said, "Co here."

Jean blurted out subconsciously, "I don’t know how."

"You don’t even know how to apply ointnt?"

"Mhm."

"Co here, I’ll teach you!" Tristan leaned back lazily on the sofa, as if he was determined to pick a fight with her.

Jean reluctantly shuffled over to his side. Following his instructions, she opened the ointnt, took three cotton swabs from the first-aid kit, dabbed them with so ointnt, and then gently applied it to his face.

’Tristan’s face was practically a work of art; it was just too handso.’

As Jean applied the ointnt, she got lost in thought, dabbing the cotton swab on his face for a long ti.

Tristan didn’t say anything either, letting her dawdle with the cotton swab, curious to see how long she would keep it up.

Dean Lynch’s gaze suddenly shifted from his computer screen to the two of them. Seeing that Jean had been applying the ointnt for a long ti, he cleared his throat.

Jean snapped back to her senses, realizing she must have been dawdling for quite a while. She quickly stopped and said, "All done."

Tristan looked at her and suddenly asked, "What were you thinking about just now?"

"Nothing." Jean swallowed, a flicker of guilt in her eyes. In truth, she was thinking about what Tristan looked like the first ti she ever saw him.

He was still in college back then, a little more boyish than he was now. He seed more like a cynical playboy, which made him all the more captivating.

Jean tossed the cotton swab into the trash can, then said, "President Sinclair, Uncle, I’ll let you get back to work. I’m going to head ho now."

Dean Lynch said, "Drive carefully on your way ho."

"I will."

Jean walked out quickly, but after getting back to her car, she didn’t rush to start the engine.

Staring at the villa she had just left, her heart felt heavy. No one knew she was in love with Tristan Sinclair, that she had been since middle school. But she knew it was impossible between them.

Impossible in this lifeti.

All she could do was bury this love forever in the deepest part of her heart.