CHAPTER 169: CHAPTER 169: THEY’RE GETTING COZY RIGHT NOW

Listening to Noah Grant’s casual and slightly playful tone, Vera Sheridan felt a tightness in her chest, worried that he was pretending to be relaxed.

The one taking action was his father, not an ordinary opponent in the business world.

He is someone who values sentiment deeply.

Vera’s nose tingled, responding with an "Mm."

She couldn’t yet give him a definite future, but she couldn’t ignore his present.

Upon hearing her voice, Noah Grant’s weariness was swept away, and his voice deepened with sincerity: "It’s really not a big deal."

His genuine confidence reassured her.

Vera breathed softly, looking at the orange-red sunset in the west, "When do you get off work? I’ll go home early to cook, and you can come over for dinner?"

Her gentle voice flowed through the currents, like feathers brushing his eardrums, causing Noah’s heart to flutter slightly, his breath catching.

He composed himself, suppressing the allure, "I’m working overtime tonight, I have a meeting at nine."

Vera could understand his busy schedule.

Seeing her remain silent, Noah Grant recalled something, frowning slightly as he softened his tone, "Don’t get distracted by my matters, focus on preparing for your selection competition, that’s what’s important, okay?"

Vera was touched and shivered inwardly, "Okay."

After the call ended, Vera still left the dance troupe early.

...

The night was falling, yet Solstice Group’s top floor remained bright with lights.

Vera walked into the lobby carrying a thermal lunchbox, catching the receptionist’s eye.

Everyone in the company knew her, a woman of fair skin, beautiful features, with a demeanour cool yet tender, the heart’s desire of their President Grant?

Hearing she was there to deliver a meal to President Grant, the receptionist enthusiastically led her to the elevator bay without even reporting to the president’s office.

...

Having been stopped by the receptionist, she called Noah Grant, and his assistant answered.

The atmosphere inside the top-floor conference room was serious.

Executives sat on both sides of the long table, all sitting solemnly and upright.

At the head seat, Noah Grant, dressed in a suit, wore a stern expression, with a pen between his fingers.

The only sound echoing in the space was the project manager’s report.

Noah listened intently, his brain racing, as his pen softly tapped the table.

He was quickly calculating key data mentioned in the report.

Just then, the conference room door was pushed open suddenly.

Micah, the assistant, walked in.

Noah’s train of thought was interrupted, his brow furrowed, his cold gaze darting toward Micah, "What is it?"

The pressure in the room dropped sharply.

The executives knew that the president was a workaholic, most annoyed by interruptions during meetings.

Facing the daunting pressure, Micah approached him, leaned down, and whispered in his ear, "President, Miss Sheridan has brought you dinner."

Noah’s pen tip suddenly halted.

Instantly, the pressing air around him vanished.

His Adam’s apple rolled slightly as he looked to everyone, then glanced at his watch, "Everyone, take a break for dinner, we’ll resume in half an hour."

The executives, already famished, couldn’t believe their ears. Their boss, who worked tirelessly, was surprisingly calling a pause?

And at this crucial moment!

...

The heavy wooden office doors were pushed open from the outside.

Vera paused her movement of organizing the lunchbox, looking up.

Noah stood at the entrance, silhouetted against the light, his figure upright, striding towards her.

Their eyes met, and he paused, then his gaze took her in.

She was bent over beside the coffee table, arranging the dishes.

Her mist-blue sweater accentuated her slender, fair neck, her low ponytail with loose strands framing her cheeks, and she held a pair of chopsticks in her hands.

The air floated with the aroma of braised beef brisket and the steam from rib and lotus root soup, a homey, comforting scent.

Noah’s Adam’s apple silently rolled, his lips gradually curled into a smile, and he lifted his distinctly jointed hand to loosen his tie as he walked towards her.

Each step matched her heartbeat, a faster rhythm, following his gaze to the food on the coffee table, "You haven’t eaten yet, right?"

Knowing he was a workaholic.

"My stomach’s been growling," Noah looked at the three dishes and soup with a longing expression, then turned to her with a grateful look, "They’re all my favorites, did you cook them yourself?"

Vera felt sweetness in her heart, nodding repeatedly, "Mm, didn’t add any cilantro."

Noah Grant walked to her side, his gaze heavy, locking onto her silently.

Vera Sheridan handed him a disinfectant towel, "Wipe your hands, hurry and eat."

Noah Grant remained still, still staring at her face.

Vera Sheridan frowned, "What’s wrong?"

Noah Grant seriously uttered four words: "Flattered and astounded."

She had been a bit worried before, knowing that once the old man made his move, whether or not he would shrink away again, but unexpectedly...

"..." Vera felt a warmth rising in her heart and said arrogantly, "I just... if you don’t eat, and then you get a stomach ache, Grandma Grant will be distressed and worried again."

Noah Grant raised an eyebrow, letting out a low laugh, "Might as well say you’re worried I’ll starve, affecting my ability to please you."

Vera lifted her foot and playfully kicked his calf, "So improper."

Noah Grant’s mischievous smile deepened.

Vera hadn’t eaten yet, sitting down to eat with him.

Noah Grant had eaten half a bowl of rice when he looked up to see Vera picking at the rice in her bowl absentmindedly.

Thinking she was strictly controlling her weight again, he picked up a piece of lean beef brisket, dipped it in his glass of clear water to filter out some of the oil, and placed it in her bowl.

"Eating a bit more occasionally won’t make you fat." As he spoke, his gaze flicked over her chest.

Vera snapped back to reality, just catching this scene, a heat rising to her cheeks.

She suddenly recalled that night when they almost lost control, how he had measured her size with his big hands, saying they were small.

She raised her collar, rolled her eyes at him, and ate the beef brisket.

When he put down his chopsticks, she couldn’t help but ask, "Noah Grant, seriously, is it very hard for you, being at odds with your family this way?"

Noah Grant paused, meeting her worried and caring gaze.

The air became quiet.

Vera spoke earnestly, "I don’t want you to be sad."

"Nor do I want to see you end up alienated by everyone."

She had experienced the Kane Family’s internal strife before.

But in her view, Noah Grant and Ian Kane were completely different people.

Ian Kane was mistreated by relatives since childhood, living in hatred, ruthless towards his grandfather and uncle’s family, because they treated him that way too.

But Noah Grant was different. He was a noble gentleman nurtured by the Grant Family in a greenhouse, cherished by his grandparents, whom he also loved dearly.

Noah Grant vaguely guessed what she was thinking, moving next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, "Sad... not really."

"Vera, this is a negotiation."

"I spent nine years proving to them I could thrive independently from the Grant Family. But the old man and Ms. Morgan still believe I live under their protection, able to decide my life."

"This time, I want them to truly see that I’ve already built my own empire."

"I’m not trying to fight them to the death; I want their sincere approval."

Hearing his words, Vera gradually felt at ease, soaking in his mature scent, gently leaning her head against his big arm, "I was really afraid you’d go to extremes."

Noah Grant chuckled softly, "What kind of extreme could I possibly go to? Overthrow the old man?"

Vera, "True."

Meanwhile, at the base of Solstice Tower.

Inside a black sedan by the roadside, the dim blue glow of a phone screen illuminated a rugged face.

"Justin." A cold voice came through the receiver, each word like it was ground out from between clenched teeth, "How is she now? Has the Grant Family... given her a hard time?"

Justin gripped the phone tightly, staring at the brightly lit top floor, grinding his teeth as a fiery anger surged in him!

He always claimed to have moved on, focused on his career, but hearing that the Grant Family opposed that woman entering the household, suppressing Noah Grant, rekindled his concern, afraid Vera would suffer any grievance.

Self-induced infatuation! Asking for humiliation!

Justin, a roughneck with little education, usually loathed these pretentious phrases. But from Ian Kane, he fully understood them!

"Kane," Justin’s throat tightened, unsure of how to speak.

On the other end, hearing his hesitation, Ian Kane’s face darkened, his eyes flashing with panic, his voice cold, "What happened to her?! Speak!"

Justin steeled himself, deciding to crush the last delusion Ian Kane held, angrily shouting, "Kane, she’s doing great! Just brought a stack of lunch boxes herself to comfort Noah Grant! They’re cozying up right now, and you’re worried she’s being bullied, but all she sees and cares about is that man named Grant!"

The phone line went deathly silent.

Ian Kane slumped heavily in his chair, his face already pale, now completely bloodless, the last glint in his deep eyes extinguished, leaving only an emptiness of desolation.

The prolonged silence on the other end left Justin both anxious and furious.

He kicked fiercely at the back of the front seat, fingers running through his hair, yelling into the phone, "Kane! Look at yourself! Might as well let me kidnap her so you two can live on a sovereign island!"

"Why live in this torment!"

"I’ll damn well make it happen for you!"

Back then, he had broken the legs of the scum who mocked Vera’s limp and castrated the thug who harassed her. What was another charge of kidnapping if it meant helping a brother?!