The air was frozen.
Rosalind clenched her silver spoon tightly, her lips pressed into a thin line.
After a mont, she slowly lifted her head, wiped the corner of her mouth with a tissue, and looked at Noah Grant, "Noah Grant, you’re talking to about respect?"
Noah’s eyelids tensed, and an aura of forcefulness emanated from him. His dark eyes fixed on his arrogant mother, "Yes! I’m 32, not two or three!"
"If I didn’t respect you, I wouldn’t have bothered to inquire about Vivian Langdon!" Rosalind’s chest heaved slightly, "Do you think I would randomly pick so prominent lady to thrust on you?"
"That girl from the Langdon Family grew up in Valois, learned from famous ntors, and is now the lead at The National Ballet! She understands the ballet art you appreciate, you two have common ground."
"I chose her thinking she could truly understand you and be a partner worthy of you, wasn’t I?"
Noah’s tone was icy, "You clearly know the one I love is Vera!"
The man’s resolute voice echoed through the hall.
Rosalind was stunned, clenching her hands tightly.
Noah couldn’t be bothered to argue with a "noblewoman" so entrenched in class beliefs, and turned to leave.
Rosalind glared at his retreating back, "What is Vera, huh? A divorced woman! Her original family was a ss, her mother was a violent offender who died in prison! With such a background and experiences, how do you expect to respect her? How can The Grant Family respect her?!"
"Respecting your choice? Let you pick a woman full of blemishes that will only drag you down?" she sneered, "Letting you be driven by so-called emotions, that would be irresponsible! That’s what would harm you!"
Rosalind spoke each word from the depths of her heart.
Parents’ love for their children considers the long-term! This is an iron law for parents!
Her gaze was locked onto Noah’s back, who was about to step out the threshold, her lips trembling:
"I chose Vivian Langdon, brought her close to you, not for myself! As a mother, I’m doing my utmost to pave for you a respectable, stable, suitable road! That’s what real respect is! Respecting your identity, your future, and The Grant Family’s status!"
"As for emotions?" Rosalind’s tone was disdainful, "Your father and I married after eting only twice, and we still cultivated feelings later on!"
Noah’s steps halted, he turned abruptly, fury swirling in his brows, lips twitching:
"You want to cultivate, you go do it with her! Leave out of it!"
His gaze pinned on Rosalind’s face, his tone icy:
"If you, or Vivian Langdon, dare to provoke Vera..."
He paused, his voice even colder: "Don’t bla if I disregard old ties and act against The Langdon Family!"
Having said this, he didn’t spare Ms. Morgan another glance, turning and leaving in large strides, his resolute back bringing a gust of cold wind.
Rosalind’s lips instantly lost color, her teeth clenching with a grinding sound, a sharp pain surged from the back of her head.
"Madam!" Auntie Warren’s heart leaped to her throat, hurriedly stepping forward to hand her water and her regular dication, "Take care of your health, quickly take the dicine!"
"Noah was just talking, don’t take it seriously!"
Rosalind, with trembling hands, took the dicine and swallowed it, her other hand pressed firmly on her chest, her fingertips cold.
"Just talking?" she panted, her voice shaking with shock and fear, "For that troublemaker, he ans every word! He’s disregarded the law before, what more of customs and decorum?!"
"Even regular families look three generations up when marrying, let alone for a family like ours."
Her chest heaved violently, her eyes filled with anguish.
"He was the most obedient, the most understanding since he was a child, and I loved him the most... I did so much for him... how could it..." The rest of her words caught in her throat, turning into a stifled sob.
Auntie Warren could only pat her back with all her strength, repeatedly consoling: "Calm down, calm down, take it easy..."
The saying that children co to collect debts from their parents couldn’t be truer.
Auntie Warren recalled the soiled sheet she found hastily rolled up with stains, left from taking care of her son, her heart ached.
Poor Madam, such a proud, graceful person, fell to such a wretched condition to save her son.
...
The black Gus rged into the morning traffic.
Noah Grant held the steering wheel with one hand, pulling out his phone with the other to dial Nathan Grant directly.
The call connected while Nathan had just driven out of the research institute’s underground parking lot.
His brother’s voice, repressed with irritation, ca through the Bluetooth headset:
"Get ho early and keep Ms. Morgan company."
Nathan’s hand holding the steering wheel paused, an alarm going off in his heart.
This tone, this content...
Great, mother and son, they’ve had another fallout!
He could almost imagine the gloomy atmosphere at the old house at that mont.
Raising a hand, he irritably wiped his face, speaking into the headset, his voice hoarse and resigned from just ending a shift:
"Can’t you just..." He paused mid-sentence, "Got it, brother, I’m heading back now."
After hanging up, Nathan pulled out a pack of cigarettes he hardly smoked from, shaking out a cigarette and holding it between his lips.
He took a deep drag, the sharp smoke pouring into his lungs, suppressing the weightiness stifling his heart.
People on the outside only know him as the joy-bringer of The Grant Family.
Little do they know, as the glue holding both sides together, he’s soaked up all the grievances and resentnts, and the sweetness in his own heart had long turned bitter and tart.
...
Every night, Vera Sheridan would repeatedly watch competition videos of other ballet dancers.
Vivian Langdon, with her precise skills and peak condition as the national ballet lead, was undoubtedly her strongest competitor on her road to Lorraine and the first challenge she needed to overco.
A few days later, to ensure she was in her best competitive state, Vera found ti to arrange a thorough dical examination at the hospital.
After completing all the tests and receiving so reports, she headed toward the elevator accompanied by her bodyguard Wade Winslows.
Vera glanced down, flipping through the report papers.
At that mont, a steady, dense sound of footsteps ca from around the corner.
A group of people in uniformly dark suits, carrying the air of business elites.
The man leading them was particularly striking, clad in a perfectly tailored black suit, a white shirt buttoned to the top, his pale skin exuding an aura warning others to keep their distance.
The oppressive energy was palpable.
Vera looked up, eting the gaze of the leading man, Ian Kane.
Her fingers holding the report instantly tightened; she subtly shifted sideways, quietly stepping two paces aside.
Her nerves subtly tensed.
Wade responded swiftly, reaching his long arm to guard her side.
Ian remained expressionless, his gaze indifferent as he glanced over, as if she were invisible.
He walked directly to the elevator door, stood firm, and glanced at his wristwatch against the sleek elevator surface, his manner haughty.
Vera’s face remained unperturbed.
Once spouses, now strangers.
But beside him, Jasper Crowe paused, turned sideways to look at Vera, smiling, his tone naturally familiar:
"Ms. Sheridan! Here for a checkup?"
Vera nodded briefly.
The elevator door chid open, and Ian was the first to step inside.
Maintaining his courtesy, Jasper gestured towards the elevator, "Ms. Sheridan?"
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