CHAPTER 190: CHAPTER 190: LOVE BITE

The night before the final round of the selection competition.

Today marks the birthday banquet of the patriarch of the Ford Family, a titan within The Capital Circle.

Vivian Langdon specially attended with her grandmother, Old Madam Yates. Tonight, she wore a nude pink lace gown, which accentuated her swan-like neck, with flawless, exquisite makeup.

Beside her, the old lady donned a meticulously crafted dark green qipao, adorned with a complete set of pearl jewelry. Though well into her seventies, her demeanor remained dignified and elegant.

The old lady’s ancestors were scholars for generations, a true lineage of literary prestige.

She herself was the dean of the Architecture School at Veridia University and an academician at the Academy of Sciences, a beacon of academia.

As soon as the grandmother and granddaughter pair made their entrance, they became the center of attention, with people approaching to greet them.

Rosalind Morgan was socializing with several distinguished ladies from The Capital Circle. Seeing the arrival of Elder Yates, her smile slightly faltered, only to regain its composure upon spotting Vivian Langdon supporting the old lady.

Though her well-maintained face retained its smile, her fingers instinctively tightened around the evening clutch in her hand.

Seeing Vivian Langdon reminded Rosalind Morgan of how humiliated she had been the last time in Noah’s presence!

However, Old Madam Yates was a highly regarded figure at Veridia University and a peer of hers.

She had to step forward, politely greeting, "Professor Yates, you’ve come as well. How’s your health lately?"

Vivian immediately lifted a sweet and charming smile, her voice clear, "Aunt Grant!"

Rosalind’s gaze briefly swept over her face, letting out a light "hmm" through her nose before shifting her attention to Elder Yates.

Elder Yates smiled gently, "My health is excellent, spending the past half-year in retreat writing." Saying so, she naturally pushed Vivian forward.

"Miss Morgan, Vivian often mentions you, saying how much you care for her, guiding her and broadening her experiences."

"This child’s thoughts are pure, focused solely on ballet, determined to bring glory to the nation... those online rumors are utterly uncredible to me.

The Yates family descendants have upright characters and would never engage in duplicity," the old lady confidently stated.

A crooked upstairs leads to a twisted downstairs.

The daughter she raised could never bring up a descendant with poor character!

On this note, Rosalind Morgan’s smile subtly stiffened for a moment, her expression shifting slightly.

She also realized that this old lady hadn’t delved deeply into the matters between Vivian Langdon and Vera Sheridan, and sensed the old lady’s intention to match the two families.

Rosalind Morgan leaned slightly closer to the old lady’s ear, "Elder Yates, our Noah and your granddaughter are ultimately not destined."

Vivian heard her words clearly, her grip on the old lady’s arm tightening, her lips twitching downward, a brief, shadowy chill flashing in her eyes, quickly covered by a trace of grievance.

The old lady naturally discerned Rosalind Morgan’s clear rejection, her eyebrows furrowing in displeasure.

So, Rosalind was stringing her granddaughter along!

The old lady responded haughtily, "It’s more accurate to say it’s your Grant Family that lacks this good fortune."

Rosalind’s expression slightly froze, her gaze falling on Vivian, "Professor Yates, your granddaughter, even in front of me, was—"

"Aunt Grant, Grandma, it’s my fault for causing discord. Grandma, I’m the one who doesn’t deserve Noah. Forced things never come sweet, so be it."

Vivian hastily interrupted, lowering her eyelashes, her long lashes trembling, as she forced a smile more grievous than tears.

Elder Yates, both pained and stern, said, "Vivian, I forbid you from belittling yourself!"

"In terms of family background, character, or professional skills, you are impeccable!"

Her voice was neither loud nor soft, yet it carried the undeniable authority of an academic titan, drawing the attention of everyone around.

Rosalind Morgan, bearing those onlookers’ gazes, straightened her inherently graceful posture, replying calmly and generously, "Professor Yates, I’ll take my leave then."

Elder Yates gave a slight nod, also leading Vivian away.

After a while, Mrs. Langdon arrived fashionably late and noticed Vivian clinging to her mother. Her eyes flickered with an unmistakable irritation, her expression as dark as storm clouds.

"Vivian, tomorrow is the finals, how do you have the time for socializing? Go home and rest early."

Vivian, looking innocently harmless, replied, "Mommy, I was just about to return for training."

Outside the resting room, Mrs. Langdon pulled Vivian to a secluded corner, "Vivian, I remind you to clarify your identity! Inside, that’s MY mother, not your grandmother."

"I won’t allow you to drag her into this!"

A sharp pain pricked Vivian’s heart before she folded her arms, replying in an eerie tone, "Mommy, what are you saying? How can I not understand that your mother isn’t my grandmother?"

With that, she pretended to leave, "I’ll go outside and ask everyone, shall I?"

Upon hearing this, Mrs. Langdon’s face grew dark, gripping her arm tightly, her nails digging in painfully, "How dare you?"

"Vivian, where do you get the audacity to be arrogant? Tomorrow’s final result is already set in stone! You, being two-faced, have disappointed the Grant Family, and your skills are inferior!"

Mrs. Langdon glared at her, "You should keep a low profile!"

Vivian gritted her teeth, her eyes boring into her mother, defiantly stating, "In what way am I inferior? Tomorrow’s spot will be mine!"

Mrs. Langdon felt she was out of her mind, releasing her hand with disgust, as if she had touched something filthy, rolled her eyes at her, and walked away.

Outsiders were still unaware of Vera Sheridan’s "disappearance."

But Vivian knew.

The person she sent to follow that "Darknight’s Justice" lunatic reported that they had witnessed that lunatic going to Vera Sheridan with concentrated sulfuric acid.

By now, Vera Sheridan must be unrecognizable, wishing for death over life!

She’d be surprised if Vera participated in tomorrow’s finals!

The more Vivian thought, the more excited she became, all her grievances and anger transforming into a mad yet determined glint in her eyes. She softly hummed the melody of "Swan Lake," lifted her chin, and elegantly left the banquet hall in her high heels.

...

Ardendale Hilton Hotel, Presidential Suite.

The heavy curtains blocked out the city’s hustle and neon lights, leaving only a vintage lamp by the bed, emitting a dim, gentle glow.

The light illuminated the man’s deep contours and the stunningly beautiful face of the woman nestled in his arms.

Her cascade of black hair spread across the pillow, accentuating her porcelain skin. Under the dim light, she seemed like a portrait come to life.

Noah’s gaze lingered over her, finally resting on her delicate, vulnerable neck.

There, a light pink mark was faintly visible.

It was where his fingers had unconsciously caressed.

And it was... the mark left by Ian Kane.

In a dreamy daze, Vera Sheridan vaguely felt a tingling sensation on her neck, grunted in protest, lazily kicking at the sheets and turning over, burying her face into a warm chest, wanting to keep sleeping.

Like a kitten.

Noah’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he held her shoulders, pulling her away from his embrace. In the next moment, his tall frame descended, noses touching, lips parting hers in a wild kiss...