Vera noticed the undercurrents of restraint in Noah’s eyes; this question was overstepping a bit.
The atmosphere was delicate.
His expression was still so aloof.
"The latter, The Glimr Garden was the stage for him to perform his deep affection towards , and it was also a golden cage," Vera said calmly.
She was not short of money. Selling The Glimr Garden represented her attitude and revenge for Ian Kane’s deception and betrayal.
Noah instinctively clenched his right fist and nodded slightly, "Let have a look at the contract."
Vera smiled faintly and handed the contract to him.
The desk was too wide, her outstretched arm only reached the center. Just as she stood to bring it over, Noah was already up, rounding the desk to her side.
The air was filled with a faint scent of ebony, deep and restrained.
The man flipped through the property purchase contract, reaching the signature page, "Ian Kane’s signature, you forged it."
The seemingly vigorous cursive script matched Ian Kane’s usual signature in form but lacked that unique air of arrogance and flamboyance.
Vera was a bit embarrassed.
Forging a signature, caught red-handed by this lawyer who represents fairness and justice...
She tilted her face slightly, looked at him, and said bravely, "The fingerprint is real."
Noah lowered his gaze, his expression serious, "If Ian Kane decides to pursue this, he could easily have a handwriting analysis done, which holds legal validity."
Vera looked at his handso face for a mont, speechless.
Noah looked at her, seemingly serious yet amused.
After a while, she averted her gaze, "Then... I’ll find another buyer. I’ve also thought about this. Let him sue, selling The Glimr Garden is my stance."
Just as she was about to close the contract, Noah’s large hand pressed it open with slight force.
Through a few pages, his palm pressed down on her hand.
Vera was taken aback and tried to pull away forcefully.
Noah glanced at this scene and released his hand, leaning over to pick up the pen across the table.
In Vera’s surprised gaze, he signed his na with practiced ease.
The pen’s nib scratched the paper, producing a "rustle" sound, the powerful and strong cursive signature vividly appeared on the paper.
He signed three contracts in succession, then said lightly, "Ink pad."
Vera snapped back, opened the ink pad and placed it beside him, "Senior, you—" violating the law.
"At the analysis institute, I have my people." Noah answered her unspoken question.
Vera, "..."
He was even using his privileges.
The man, in a white linen shirt and jeans, expressionless and gentle, still looked like the untainted image of the white moonlight in her mory.
In a daze, her lips faintly tingled, and Vera’s eyes turned misty.
The air in the unconditioned study beca increasingly stuffy and sticky.
After pressing the seal, Noah closed the last contract, pulled out a wet wipe, and leisurely wiped his thumb, his gaze falling on her pale neck.
Tendrils of hair were sweaty, clinging to her delicate skin.
His Adam’s apple moved, "Very hot?"
Vera’s ears burned as she hurriedly packed up the contracts, "I should get going."
"Senior, um, I’ll give you a two million discount; if it weren’t for you, this mansion would be hard to sell."
Noah was slightly startled.
Vera, holding a stack of contracts, stood up from the chair, wrapped in a rich masculine aura, and moved to the other side.
Suddenly, a thunderclap roared outside, blowing the study door open with a gust of wind, and then it creaked shut again.
Then ca the downpour.
The sound of rain drowned out all other sounds.
Beside her, his low and magnetic voice sounded faintly, "The rain has beco heavier, how about a ga of chess before you leave?"
Vera turned around, looking at the chessboard, her eyes brightening, "Alright."
The two sat opposite each other, she with black pieces, he with white.
Outside, it was a storm, inside, it was a battle of wits between the two.
The rain stopped soti without them noticing, and when Vera finally snapped out of it, she rembered the broker.
"Senior, I have to go."
Noah looked at the chessboard, where the ga seed far from decided, and nodded, "I’ll see you out."
Vera picked up the contracts and stood, taking just two steps before her legs cramped from sitting too long, an indescribable discomfort and floating sensation made her cry out in pain, her brows knitting in suppressed agony.
Seeing this, Noah quickly approached her, "Legs numb?"
"Cramping, don’t touch ," she gritted her teeth to endure, also grabbing his arm, afraid he’d move her.
During a cramp, the last thing she needed was to be moved, the sensation was unbearable.
Noah advised her, "Stomp a few steps, and it’ll be fine."
Vera widened her eyes, "No way!"
Her fierce deanor, a stark contrast to her usual serene and gentle temperant, had a bit of childlike petulance.
Noah’s handso face colored with a doting smile, "Alright, whatever you say."
A sharp pain shot through his arm, and looking down, he saw her fingers tightly pinching him.
The smile on his lips grew deeper, letting her pinch him.
Vera inhaled deeply several tis to alleviate the discomfort in her legs.
The two stood quietly.
After a while, she finally moved her feet, adding, "Every ti I cramp, it’s like after training when Professor Donovan would press into stretches, the soreness aside, the main issue is that sense of loss of control and fear."
Noah, "Hmm, I understand."
He discreetly rubbed the spot on his arm where she pinched him.
Vera flexed her feet, just about to walk away when pain shot up from her right ankle again, forcing her back into the chair.
Noah’s gaze lowered, his expression darkened, "Rheumatism?"
As soon as it rained, the old injury would trigger rheumatic pain.
Vera nodded, her lips paler.
Noah’s chest heaved, turning to grab a small stool, lifted her right foot onto it, and removed her flat shoe.
"Do you have spray?"
Vera shook her head, "I’ll be fine after resting for a while."
Noah walked away, dialing a number.
The maid quickly brought a basin of hot water and a warm towel, and he wrung out a wet towel to apply it to her old injury.
Outside, the rain poured heavily once again.
Inside, the hot water stead faintly.
The man half-knelt by her feet, rubbing through the towel with the right amount of pressure.
Alone, a man and a woman, secluded in one room...
Vera Sheridan instinctively wanted to pull back, "Senior, I—"
Just then, her phone rang.
Vera Sheridan took her phone out of her bag, and the screen prominently displayed the words "Mr. Kane."
She gritted her teeth and answered it anyway.
"Hello—Old, Mr. Kane—" She didn’t say "dear," eting Noah Grant’s gaze, she inexplicably changed her tune.
The man’s hand movents slowed down.
At that ti, at the largest artificial ski resort in the suburbs of Veridia, Ian Kane, dressed in a silver ski suit, stood at the peak of the "mountain," with wet, slicked-back hairs clinging to his cool, white forehead.
"Wife, where are you, do you miss ?" he asked with a smile.
After practicing with the coach for two or three hours, he could expertly and smoothly perform many difficult maneuvers.
Vera Sheridan blinked and, with shifting eyes, calmly lied: "I am, at Maeve Holloway’s apartnt."
Noah Grant wrung out the wet towel again and reapplied it to her ankle, making Vera Sheridan take a sharp breath.
Ian Kane, "What’s wrong? There’s a heavy rainstorm in Ardendale, and is your foot hurting?"
Even without speaker mode turned on, his seemingly concerned voice was audible in the quiet space.
Vera Sheridan, "Um, my rheumatism is acting up."
Ian Kane frowned, "Do a warm compress."
Vera Sheridan glanced at Noah Grant, who was helping her with a warm compress, and softly replied, "Okay. What are you doing?"
Ian Kane’s lips curved upward, "Practicing skiing for our trip to Valdania."
Heh.
Vera Sheridan barely suppressed a derisive snort, "Why such effort, is your stomach better?"
With this "concern," Ian Kane felt a burning sensation in his stomach, clenched his jaw, as he noticed in the distance a father teaching his young son to ski.
Ian Kane’s eyes darkened, a flicker of bitterness flashed and vanished, then he smiled, "It’s fine now, I’ll practice for two more days, and I’ll rush back to Ardendale early the day after tomorrow, and we can et directly at the airport."
In the anti, an ominous news broadcast sounded in his ear, like a nightmare: "At 10 PM local ti, a private helicopter encountered a storm and crashed into Mount Argent, with all four people on board, including the pilot, perishing. The youngest of the deceased was only seven years old. It’s reported that this was a happy family of three..."
Ian Kane clenched the phone tightly.
On that side, the smile on Vera Sheridan’s lips widened, her eyes fixed on a single point, "Okay."
Just you wait.
Ending the call, Vera Sheridan raised her head to et Noah Grant’s gaze, "Senior, thank you."
Noah Grant glanced at his watch, "I’ll take you back."
"The agent’s gone long ago."
Vera Sheridan hesitated and nodded, "Sorry for the trouble."
Noah Grant didn’t respond.
...
In the following two days, taking advantage of Ian Kane’s absence from Ardendale, Vera Sheridan packed all her belongings and hired a logistics company to send them to Veridia.
This ho she once clung to, on the day the divorce cooling-off period ended, she left without a trace belonging to her.
At seven thirty in the morning, she received a ssage from Ian Kane: Mrs. Kane, I’m about to take off, see you in an hour.
Vera Sheridan didn’t reply.
An hour later, she was at the entrance of the Serenity Marriage Registry in Ardendale.
At the sa ti, Ian Kane stepped out of first class.
Today, he was still in a suit and tie, an elegant bespoke suit emphasizing his tall and commanding presence, his oversized sunglasses obscuring most of his face, accentuating his striking jawline.
He walked into the VIP lounge of the international departure area with a confident stride, under the flash of photographers.
The team of journalists from Finance Weekly had been waiting for a long ti.
Before departing for Valdania, he was to complete a 30-minute interview, conducted live in a studio setting.
After brief pleasantries, the staff attached the microphone to him, Ian Kane unbuttoned his suit jacket, and sat on the leather sofa, his long legs crossed, exuding elegance and composure.
Conducting the interview was Hannah Holloway, the industry-renowned host of Finance Weekly.
Hannah Holloway wore an elegant smile on her intellectual face, "President Kane, first of all, on behalf of Finance Weekly, congratulations on your and Ms. Vera Sheridan’s first wedding anniversary! As far as I know, you have canceled all recent business etings to specifically travel to Valdania to celebrate?"
Ian Kane rubbed his thumb against his wedding ring, "Yes."
Hannah Holloway, "I heard you booked the entire Mount Argent? The netizens are curious if this has sothing to do with your love story?"
Ian Kane’s tone deepened slightly, "Sorry, this is a secret I want to share only with my wife."
Hannah Holloway naturally didn’t dare to press further, "Wow, a secret to share only with your wife, President Kane, you’re quite the romantic."
In the live broadcast room, netizens frantically comnted, praising his deep affection.
Sitting in a corner of the marriage registry, Vera Sheridan watched those comnts full of "deep affection," filled with sarcasm, while tightly clutching the number slip in her hand.
Half an hour later, she dialed Ian Kane’s phone number.
The broadcast hadn’t completely ended, Ian Kane pulled out his phone, and looking at the caller, said to the host, "Sorry, it’s my wife’s call."
Speaking, he glanced outside the lounge, searching for Vera Sheridan’s figure.
Hannah Holloway nodded in acknowledgnt.
Ian Kane answered in front of her, a smile curved on his lips, "Wife, have you arrived? I’m almost finished here."
Vera Sheridan stood on the tree-lined path outside the civil affairs bureau, her gaze on a roasted chestnut shop nearby. A year ago, they collected their certificate here, and Ian Kane queued for a long ti to buy her so.
His performance has always been detailed and grounded.
Clearing her throat, she remained expressionless and spoke calmly, "Ian Kane, I’ve been here for a while."
Ian Kane raised an eyebrow, getting up and heading toward the door, "Where are you? I’ll be right over."
Previously, she didn’t let the bodyguard pick her up, insisting Maeve Holloway should.
Vera Sheridan looked at the golden letters at the entrance of the civil affairs bureau and spelled out each word: "Serenity Marriage Registry, Ardendale."
"Ian Kane, have you forgotten? Today is also the end of our divorce cooling-off period."
At the airport, Ian Kane’s tall figure froze, a sharp ringing pierced his left ear, he thought he misheard, "Wife, what did you say?"
Vera Sheridan sneered coldly, "Ian Kane, I’m at the entrance of the civil affairs bureau, you must make it here within an hour to finalize our divorce certificate, otherwise, I’ll give you a bigger surprise."
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