CHAPTER 12: CHAPTER 12: GRANDMA FIERCELY PROTECTS HER GRANDCHILD

The atmosphere in the living room grew increasingly oppressive and silent.

At that moment, Auntie Rose’s cheerful voice rang out, "Madam, your eldest grandson Eugene is back."

Mrs. Vaughn felt a surge of happiness and excitement, but her smile soon receded. She pretended to be displeased as she sat upright, not moving.

Eugene Vaughn walked in.

He wore an elegant black long shirt and trousers, accentuating his noble and serene demeanor with an added hint of calm aloofness.

His gaze swept over Victoria Sinclair, pausing for a few seconds, before finally resting on his grandmother. He greeted her politely, "Grandma."

Mrs. Vaughn replied with a sarcastic tone, "Rushing home right after the flight, I thought you’d be eager to see your wife. I didn’t expect you two to come separately, one after the other."

Eugene’s eyes darkened slightly; he didn’t respond and turned to greet the other elders one by one.

"Eugene, come sit over here," Vivian Miller beamed brightly as she patted the empty seat beside her.

In another setting, he might have gone over to sit.

But today, with his grandmother and other elders present,

he respectfully sat next to Victoria Sinclair. The two were slightly apart, yet still on the same sofa.

This unusual behavior made Victoria a bit uncomfortable; her body tensed, and she sat obediently, her expression composed.

Vivian’s smile disappeared instantly. Her manicured nails with glitter turned into a clenched fist, her breath stifled.

She felt the need to show Victoria what social class disparity meant, what a generational gap was, what it meant to be an outsider unable to transform into the elite.

A poor girl from a remote village trying to fit into their upper-class elite family.

Vivian swiftly introduced a topic demonstrating her high-class socialite status, "During my recent trip, I was invited to attend LV’s new season fashion show. The latest collection is truly gorgeous and sophisticated."

Jenny Vaughn was stunned, covering her mouth in surprise, "Oh my, LV’s fashion show usually invites only ambassadors, people with significant social influence, fashion elite, and ultra VIPs. It’s so enviable, Vivian, that you were invited to see the new season’s fashion show in person."

Mrs. Miller wore a proud expression, explaining proudly, "My daughter became very close friends with the deputy general manager’s daughter of LV during her studies abroad."

Catherine Ingram chimed in with a fawning tone, "Vivian, can you perhaps get the latest limited edition from LV?"

Vivian smiled, "Of course, tell me which one you like, and I’ll gift it to you."

Catherine was instantly overjoyed, unable to hide her smile, "I couldn’t possibly let you spend that much!"

Vivian flattered, "Auntie, don’t be so polite with me. I know Uncle loves collecting fine wines. I specifically arranged for some rare cognac, series of limited Louis XIII, to be sent from France, and they will arrive in a few days."

A bottle costing hundreds of thousands wasn’t something Harold Vaughn couldn’t buy; it was the rarity that made it precious.

Harold beamed with joy, his eyes filled with delight, "Vivian is indeed such a thoughtful child. I wonder which fortunate family will have her as their daughter-in-law. Mr. Miller, I truly envy you for having such an excellent daughter."

Mr. Miller discreetly chuckled, "My daughter really is outstanding. Remember, I proposed her as your eldest daughter-in-law back in the day."

The implication was that it was your loss, as your eldest son missed out.

The second aunt exclaimed in admiration, "Indeed, Vivian is pretty and so capable! Her friends are all renowned figures in the fashion world."

The second uncle laughed, "If only we had a son, I’d also want Vivian as a daughter-in-law. However, Ethan is not young anymore, perhaps..."

Mr. Miller quickly interrupted, "Ethan is a bit carefree, like a teenager in a rebellious phase who’s not yet grown up. I actually prefer Eugene as my son-in-law, but alas, he’s already married."

The lively living room bustled with conversations about luxury goods and Vivian’s excellence.

Victoria Sinclair didn’t feel any inferiority due to Vivian’s powerful social connections, merely bored, unable to integrate into such circles, feeling like an outsider.

The grandmother also showed no interest in their topics and gently touched Victoria’s soft pale hand, whispering softly, "Victoria, it’s been two years since you got married. When do you plan to have children?"

Victoria stiffened, her heart clenching, and she froze slightly, at a loss.

Eugene sat casually, one hand resting on the back of the sofa, the other holding his phone, eyes lowered, reading emails.

Maybe it was the grandmother’s words that made his eyes darken slightly, and his thumb hovering over the screen paused.

The grandmother asked, worriedly, "Is there a problem with my eldest grandson’s health?"

Victoria awkwardly pressed her lips together, squeezing out a smile as she shook her head, making an excuse, "Grandma, it’s mainly because I’m too busy and not ready to have kids yet."

That the grandmother suspected Eugene’s health first upon learning they had no children profoundly moved Victoria.

Perhaps the topic of children also captured the attention of others.

The grandmother understood Victoria’s work nature and was sympathetic, although there was regret at not having a great-grandchild soon. She affectionately consoled, "Victoria, even though work keeps you busy, you must take care of your health. Don’t overwork."

"Of course, Grandma," Victoria smiled gently.

Curious, the grandmother asked, "What are you researching these days?"

"ALS neuron antibody research, pediatric collagen fiber deficiency pharmacology research. Also, research on vaccines for two rare viruses."

The grandmother patted her hand, sighing, "These are all rare diseases. Your previous patented medicine was also for treating rare diseases. With so few patients, is the income enough to support research for new drugs?"

This question left Victoria slightly embarrassed.

Because she indeed lacked funding.

When she was young, the grandmother was a chemistry professor at a university and had some understanding of pharmacology. She could fully appreciate the hardships and difficulties of fellow researchers.

Victoria, smart, resilient, and quiet, was also deeply cherished by the grandmother because of her own engagement in scientific research.

Unlike her sons and grandchildren, who only sought profit in business, reeking of materialism, earning enough money for generations to squander but rarely contributing to the country and society.

At this moment, Harold Vaughn’s voice coldly huffed, his tone disdainful, "A small pharmaceutical research institute without a factory, the two drugs for rare diseases can only be covered by national health insurance. The same type of medicine abroad with mediocre effect sells for over three hundred thousand a shot, your patented drug is effective but not profitable, and after insurance coverage, it’s only a few thousand a shot. How is this doing business? Obviously doing charity; you should shut down the research institute early, come home, do the housework, take care of Eugene’s daily life, and be content as a housewife."

Upon hearing this, Eugene pressed his phone to sleep mode, slowly lifted his eyes, and fixed a cold glare on his father, his face darkening.

Her father-in-law’s disparaging comments drove Victoria to extreme displeasure.

Although she was introverted and serene, not competitive, she was by no means a pushover, especially when her career was denigrated.

Victoria parted her lips, about to retort, her words catching in her throat.

The grandmother’s sudden fury exploded.

"You, a profiteer, making money off the hardships of the poor, exploiting employees’ benefits, ruthlessly reaping in the stock market, offering nothing to the country, only knowing how to earn money without restraint, what right do you have to belittle our pharmaceutical scientists?"

Her words rendered everyone around them shocked.

Harold was left speechless by his mother’s scolding, meekly muttering, "Mom, I was just thinking her small company isn’t profitable; there’s no need to waste time and effort on it. You didn’t have to embarrass me like this, did you?"