The day before the bidding eting, Sean Sinclair naturally needed to go ho and get so proper rest so he could face the next day’s challenge in peak condition.
When he got ho, he found the door ajar, and the faint aroma of food wafted out.
"Leila? You’re back." Sean Sinclair pushed the door open, only to find his parents and sister sitting on the living room sofa. He froze for a mont, his gaze sweeping toward the kitchen.
A heavyset figure was bustling about in the kitchen.
It was the housekeeper.
It wasn’t Leila.
Mrs. Sinclair saw the disappointnt flash in her son’s eyes and was internally exasperated. But tomorrow was the day he was signing a major project, so they had to keep him in good spirits.
"Son, you’re back! Co have so fruit. Dinner’s almost ready."
"Dad, Mom, Cecilia," Sean Sinclair greeted them as he took off his coat and hung it up. "I’m going to get changed."
"Alright, go ahead."
Mr. Sinclair watched his son enter the bedroom, then settled back into his seat. He turned to admonish his daughter, "Listen to . Today, you are absolutely forbidden from doing or saying anything that might upset your brother."
Cecilia Sinclair pouted. "You just an I shouldn’t say anything about Leila Jennings, right? What could I possibly say? That she cleaned the house pretty well? It’s so neat and tidy, it looks like soone’s about to go on a long trip."
Mr. Sinclair turned his head. "Don’t ntion her at all."
"Fine," Cecilia Sinclair said while eating her fruit. "Who wants to talk about her anyway? The re ntion of her na is disgusting."
When Sean Sinclair erged in comfortable loungewear, Mrs. Sinclair imdiately nudged her daughter, signaling her to be quiet.
Cecilia Sinclair instantly fell silent and focused on eating her fruit.
Sean Sinclair sat on the sofa and took out his phone to call Leila Jennings. His whole family was here; he couldn’t just leave her out.
Besides, Leila always made a celebratory al for him the day before any of his important events.
Today, however, there was nothing.
Mr. Sinclair noticed his son about to contact Leila Jennings and quickly spoke up. "We called Leila on our way here. She has sothing to take care of today, so she can’t co back."
Sean Sinclair frowned slightly. "You called Leila?"
"I made the call, not your mother or your sister." Mr. Sinclair knew what his son was thinking—he was worried they had said sothing they shouldn’t have to Leila Jennings.
Sean Sinclair relaxed, hearing it was his father who had called.
His father was the only relatively fair and impartial person in the family.
Still, he was going to call Leila Jennings. ’She’s already quit her job,’ he thought, ’how could she not have ti to co ho for a family dinner?’
"Why are you wearing your ring again?" Mr. Sinclair interrupted him once more. "I haven’t seen you wear it recently."
’Why is he still wearing a wedding ring when they’re divorced?’ Mr. Sinclair thought.
Sean Sinclair raised his hand and looked at the ring on his finger, his gaze softening slightly. "This is my and Leila’s wedding ring."
Of course, Mr. Sinclair knew that.
He was finding it increasingly difficult to understand what his son was thinking.
He claid he was only worried the divorce would affect his career, yet here he was, quietly wearing his wedding ring again.
’This won’t do.’
Especially tomorrow. Sarah Lynch’s grandfather would be there. It would be a disaster if the man saw Sean wearing a wedding ring.
No elder would want their precious child involved in an ambiguous relationship with a married man. This was especially true for a family of intellectuals, where reputation was paramount.
"It’s fine to wear the ring at ho, but it’s not appropriate for an occasion like tomorrow’s," Mr. Sinclair advised. "Don’t let a small detail trip you up."
Sean Sinclair understood the unspoken aning in his father’s eyes.
He looked down at the ring on his finger.
Mr. Sinclair continued, "Take it off now. That way you won’t forget tomorrow and have to rush, potentially misplacing or losing it."
That last point was a genuine concern for Sean Sinclair, so he reluctantly took the ring off and placed it in his wallet.
There was already another ring in his wallet. Now, with the two lying together, it felt as if he and Leila were nestled side by side.
A gentle smile touched Sean Sinclair’s lips, and his eyes softened.
Mr. Sinclair saw the two rings in the transparent sleeve of the wallet and asked, "Why do you have Leila’s ring?"
’Leila’s already taken hers off, so why are you still wearing yours?’ was what he really ant to say.
"She’s always treasured our rings and takes hers off for housework. She must have forgotten to put it back on this ti. I was worried it would get lost, so I’m holding onto it for her," Sean Sinclair explained, putting his wallet away.
The family sat down to dinner at the table.
Sean Sinclair took a picture and sent it to Leila Jennings.
"Dad said you had sothing to do today and couldn’t make it ho for dinner. What’s up?"
Leila Jennings didn’t reply.
At that very mont, she was at No. 9 Norsen, having dinner with Mrs. Thorne, Mr. Duncan, Professor and Mrs. Cheney, and Chloe.
The atmosphere was warm and cheerful.
Mrs. Thorne’s eyes filled with tears several tis. "The day is finally almost here," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Thorne can finally rest easy, watching from above."
Mrs. Cheney handed her a tissue and sighed. "My Cheney can finally get so rest and spend ti with and our daughter. But he won’t stay idle for long, will he?"
"That’s right. We’re not selling the patent; it’s a partnership, so there will be a lot of follow-up work," Professor Cheney said with a smile, patting his wife’s hand. "Thank you for everything, my dear."
"Don’t worry about it. Our daughter and I are so proud of you," Mrs. Cheney said, placing so food on his plate.
Chloe chid in, "After tomorrow, I can finally tell my parents what I’ve been doing. They’ve been worried for years that I joined a pyramid sche. If the police hadn’t made a special visit to tell them to stop asking, they’d still be pestering every day."
The group laughed.
Finally, all eyes turned to Leila Jennings, wondering what was on her mind.
Leila Jennings said, "I’m planning to practice my signature a few more tis tonight."
The others were stunned for a second, then broke into laughter.
Mrs. Thorne asked, "And for tomorrow?"
Leila replied, "As for tomorrow, I just hope everything goes smoothly. After that, I’ll keep working hard on the project."
"Only this project?" Professor Cheney asked.
Leila thought for a mont, then shook her head. "Not just this one."
They could tell she already had sothing in mind, but they didn’t press for details.
To ensure a smooth day tomorrow, they toasted with juice instead of alcohol. After they clinked glasses, Professor Cheney reminded Leila, "Be careful when you’re out tomorrow. Even though the institute has assigned you bodyguards, you need to be vigilant yourself. Especially with what you eat and drink. Forgive for being long-winded."
"I know," Leila said. "I’ll be fine. Sarah Lynch has been keeping a low profile lately, hasn’t she? And as for *him*... he won’t get a reaction out of ."
Mrs. Thorne and Professor Cheney both knew the "him" she ntioned was Sean Sinclair.
Although Mrs. Cheney and Chloe didn’t fully understand, they didn’t ask, simply continuing to eat in silence.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
Mrs. Thorne asked, "Who would co over at this hour? Does anyone else know you’re staying here?"
One person ca to Leila’s mind. "It might be Cherry."
Mrs. Thorne nodded. "The young lady of the Cole family... As long as it’s not the young master, we should be fine. Miss Cole isn’t likely to suspect anything."
"I’ll get it." Leila walked to the entrance and checked the video intercom screen.
Speak of the devil.
Standing at the door was Nathaniel Cole.
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