The rainy season in Beldon had just passed, and the air was still saturated with a damp stickiness.
Holly had been at ho for several days without going out.
The bedroom curtains were half-drawn, sunlight filtered through the gaps onto the brooch on the bedside table.
The diamond on the brooch glinted coldly, and Holly picked it up, unconsciously rubbing it.
Whenever she thought of that night’s loss of control, entanglent, and intimacy, Holly felt her temples throb.
She didn’t know how to define her relationship with Blake Sinclair, nor did she know what he ant by ’responsibility.’
She constantly felt that sothing was quietly changing between her and Blake Sinclair.
The phone vibrated, and Holly instinctively tensed up.
These past few days, whenever her phone made a sound, she was afraid it was a ssage from Blake Sinclair, afraid he would bring up that night, afraid he would really want to discuss the ’responsibility’ he ntioned.
But fortunately, it wasn’t.
It was just a live broadcast notification.
The video title, bolded at the top, read Beldon Industry Summit Forum.
The live broadcast played automatically, the cara shook, and upon seeing a familiar figure, Holly’s hand was quicker than her brain and had already clicked in.
In the video, Blake Sinclair, as a special guest of the summit forum, was presenting an award on stage.
He wore a well-tailored dark black custom suit, the fraless glasses resting on his nose were the sa ones she’d seen before, his gaze calm, exuding an air of aloof nobility that she didn’t usually associate with him.
Beyond reach.
Beside him, Zion Pence smiled complacently, holding a crystal trophy in his hand.
On the large background screen, the words "Sunfield Tech Wins Best New Economy Business Representative" were particularly prominent.
After Blake Sinclair presented the award, he stepped down from the stage.
But whether by accident or design, the caraman followed him down from the stage, completely forgetting the awardee on stage.
In the more than a minute of footage, there was only Blake Sinclair’s composed figure until a group of reporters surrounded him, and the cara leisurely cut back to the stage.
In the last second before the cara switched, Blake Sinclair was answering reporters’ questions, his expression calm under the spotlight, his tone steady.
Holly’s gaze lingered on his moving Adam’s apple, the image from that night exploding in her mind.
His shirt had its buttons torn open, and she, as if bewitched, leaned in to bite that patch of skin, burning hot!
The deliberately suppressed moan, full of restrained desire, was a stark contrast to his deanor in the live broadcast.
The more aloof and noble Blake Sinclair was usually, the more fervent and real he was that night.
The force on her wrist, the breath on her ear, the unseen red marks...
All these scorching desires hidden under his skin were known only to her.
She seed to have discovered another side of him, a more vibrant one.
The mont this thought surfaced, it felt like a current ran through Holly’s heart, making her limbs tingle.
After coming to her senses, she quickly turned off the live broadcast, feeling her heart race and her face grow hotter.
The air circulator blew loudly, yet Holly found it inexplicably noisy. She went to the kitchen and downed several gulps of cold water before calming down.
...
At the summit forum venue.
The atmosphere was lively.
Zion Pence was surrounded by a group of people flattering him, handling them with just the right smile, his vanity at its peak.
As he was speaking, a commotion arose not far away, drawing his gaze to Blake Sinclair, who was walking over at a leisurely pace.
He had just finished an exclusive interview and was now surrounded by a group of people.
Those who had just been praising Zion had mostly dispersed, rushing to Blake Sinclair, bending over in greeting, their faces full of obsequiousness.
Zion’s hand by his side clenched tightly.
He had struggled for so many years, putting in so much ti and effort to reach his current status, yet why was he still no match for Blake Sinclair?
Why, even under the spotlight, did Sinclair effortlessly attract all the attention?
Was it simply because his last na was Sinclair? That he was destined to be superior?
His heart couldn’t settle for a long ti, an indescribable emotion surged, and he had to exert self-control to maintain his composure.
Just as he was thinking, a man with whom he had only exchanged a few greetings approached, "President Pence, I just heard your big day is on the horizon? It seems today is truly a double celebration!"
Zion’s brow twitched, the rumor seed unsurprising to him, even expected.
"I do have such plans."
As he spoke, the surrounding air suddenly thickened.
Blake Sinclair had unknowingly stood beside him, those amber eyes coldly gazing at him through the lens.
Zion felt a cold sweat inexplicably form on his back under Sinclair’s gaze.
He always felt Sinclair looked at him with ambiguous intentions.
Soone in the crowd suddenly said, "President Pence, since you’ve received this industry representative award, you should host a celebration party, we’ll definitely attend!"
Zion nodded in acknowledgnt.
Suppressing the turmoil in his heart, he looked at Blake Sinclair, slightly bowed, "President Sinclair, tomorrow our company is hosting a celebration, would you be able to grace us with your presence?"
Although Zion asked politely, everyone knew it was re formalities.
By asking, he demonstrated etiquette, while also gaining face in front of others.
After all, everyone in Beldon knew that Blake Sinclair rarely attended such business gatherings, Zion was already prepared for a refusal.
The surroundings quieted, and everyone’s gaze focused on the two.
Blake Sinclair continued to lower his gaze at Zion, his eyes beneath the lenses deep and unreadable, until after a long pause, he finally spoke slowly, "Tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
That simple word stirred a mighty wave in everyone’s heart, instantly disrupting the entire atmosphere.
Zion was stunned, his fake smile nearly slipping.
He didn’t expect Blake Sinclair to agree.
Sinclair, however, seed oblivious to Zion’s shock, his gaze swept lightly around before he nodded slightly and left.
As soon as he departed the venue, the surrounding flattery and admiration resud, even more fervent than before.
Several business executives who had just been ignoring him instantly changed their attitudes, enthusiastically patting his shoulder, while a few reporters scrambled to secure slots for tomorrow’s celebration.
Their words were heard clearly by Zion, and his heart felt clogged, stifled, yet he couldn’t act out, having to continue smiling and socializing.
He didn’t understand why Blake Sinclair had agreed, but regardless of his intention, his attendance was beneficial for the company, and he had to seize this opportunity.
Especially since tomorrow, he planned to announce a "big matter" in front of everyone.
Glynre.
When Holly received Zion’s ssage, she was texting Sinclair.
On the screen was the little girl’s sweet voice ssage: "Crowe, the bayberries at ho are already bright red, you must co and eat! We’ll pick them together!"
Holly didn’t expect the little girl to rember after all this ti.
It seed it was sumr break, and she was completely carefree.
Holly already didn’t want to visit The Sinclair Family, especially after what had happened a few days ago, it was even more unlikely she’d go. She casually changed the subject, tactfully ending the conversation.
Just as she sent the ssage, a text notification popped up.
Still from an unknown number, but Holly didn’t need to look to know who it was.
"Holly, I’ll prove myself to you at the company’s celebration tomorrow! Everything I said is true!"
Holly stared at the ssage for a mont, then dismissed it, blocking the number.
She knew about Zion Pence’s celebration soon after exiting the live stream.
Lynch from the secretarial departnt had long sent her a ssage, inviting her to join tomorrow, saying they wanted to witness the company’s "big joyful event" together.
Holly didn’t reply to the ssage.
Her resignation and departure were still unknown to the company.
Perhaps, in Zion Pence’s eyes, her withdrawing from all work groups and blocking contact was just another tantrum.
Holly’s gaze fell on the computer screen in front of her, the video in her email was downloading, its cover stuck on the fra of Zion and Mia being intimate in the back seat of a car.
The scene was physiologically discomforting.
Holly minimized the window.
So things indeed needed a conclusion.
Since tomorrow was a ’big joyful event,’ it was ti she sent out this ’congratulatory gift.’
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