CHAPTER 2: CHAPTER 2: DECEIVING HER

His dark eyes were filled with naked desire, which clashed into Vera’s eyes, and scenes of childhood shadows swept over her, "No!"

She pushed forcefully against his solid chest, her body uncontrollably trembling violently, her face pale as paper.

Ian Kane was startled, a trace of defeat and helplessness slid through his eyes, and he quickly calmed down.

He released her, his voice extremely soft, carrying a soothing meaning, "Be good, I’m sorry, I acted on impulse."

Vera forced herself to calm down, seeing clear guilt in his eyes, her nose tingled, her eyes reddening.

The moment he kissed her just now, her mind was filled with the disgusting scene she witnessed as a child: her father naked and entangled with his mistress, unable to be erased.

"I’m sorry..." Her voice carried lingering tremors.

It seems that the psychological therapy of the past half year has had little effect.

Ian Kane’s lips curved into a forgiving arc, his eyes full of tenderness, gently brushing the stray hair from her cheek with his fingertips, "What nonsense are you saying."

He gently pinched her cheek, his tone firm and pampering, "No guilt allowed, I can keep waiting."

This forgiveness made warmth surge in Vera’s heart, a bit of emotion prompting her to open her arms proactively, wanting to embrace him.

Just at this moment, the phone rang sharply.

Ian Kane quickly took out his phone from the bathrobe pocket, the screen brightening at that moment, he subconsciously covered it with his palm.

Vera caught a glimpse of the screen, pitch black—it was a privacy screen.

She was slightly stunned.

Ian Kane looked at her, his tone as usual: "Honey, let me return a call." He naturally supplemented, "Noah Grant, business."

The three words "Noah Grant" slid lightly over Vera’s heart.

Ian Kane took the phone and left, leaving Vera alone in the room.

She picked up her phone, found that long-dormant name in the contact list—

"Senior Grant."

Noah Grant was her mentor Wendy Donovan’s nephew, also her college senior, from a distinguished background, talented and capable.

The Grant Family is the true "legal dynasty," with three generations holding significant positions in the judiciary and legal fields.

Noah Grant is the only one in three generations of the Grant Family who did not go into politics, an esteemed lawyer in the business world, specializing in complex commercial litigation and international arbitration.

The Kane Family’s old patriarch also hired his team to handle tricky lawsuits after three invitations.

Vera remembered, when he went abroad for studies, he didn’t even say goodbye to her.

So many years without contact, presumably he no longer remembers her.

This number should have long become obsolete.

She pressed the dial button without much expectation.

Unexpectedly, the call was answered instantly!

Vera was stunned.

From the receiver came clear classical Bach music, soothing and melodious.

"Vera?" A deep and lazy male voice followed, with a gritty texture, like sandpaper smoothing a tabletop, scratching the eardrums.

Vera’s fingertips tightened around the phone, momentarily forgetting to respond.

On the other side, in the elegantly furnished study, the mahogany bookshelf filled with legal texts, the scales ornament on the desk gleaming with sharp metallic luster.

Noah Grant leaned in his chair, surrounded by her light breathing.

The man’s long fingers unfastened the collar button of his shirt, his alluring protruded Adam’s apple slightly vibrating, "Why aren’t you speaking?"

Vera came back to her senses.

She hadn’t expected the call to go through, and it really was Noah Grant.

Suddenly recalling something, she walked out of the bedroom, arriving at Ian Kane’s bedroom door, faint muffled groans and rough panting coming from inside.

In an instant, her whole body was rooted to the spot.

She clutched the phone tightly, her pale knuckles almost breaking through the thin skin.

On the other side, Noah Grant sat upright, "Vera, what’s wrong?"

Vera then remembered to respond to him, "Sorry, I... dialed the wrong number."

As soon as she spoke, she hung up the phone, her black and white eyes staring at the closed door.

Her heart sank little by little.

Ian Kane’s six years of deep affection warmed her heart.

But as she was passionately feeling for him, did he find new love, i.e., my student?

Was it Nina Sullivan?

At that moment, the door opened, and Ian Kane walked out.

Seeing her, he was clearly startled.

Vera’s gaze slowly swept over the still-reddened flush on his chest and neck, "What were you doing in the room?"

Ian Kane’s gaze darkened, Adam’s apple moved, "What did you just hear?"

Their eyes met, the air silent.

Vera quietly looked at him.

Ian Kane clasped her shoulders, his lips pulling into a seemingly helpless smile, "Honey, you ignited my fire, I just extinguished it myself."

Was it ignited by her, or Nina Sullivan?

Vera didn’t believe it.

"I’m hungry, let’s go downstairs to eat." Her tone was calm, turning and leaving.

She always shied away from the topic of intimacy, Ian Kane didn’t overthink it, letting her go downstairs first while he changed into home clothes to accompany her.

But during this change of clothes, half an hour passed without him coming downstairs.

Vera absentmindedly poured water.

The back of her hand suddenly burned.

Only Maeve’s panicked shout: "Madam!"

Vera then realized the glass was already full, the overflowing hot water scalding her hand.

She immediately walked to the kitchen, turned on cold water, constantly pouring it over her hand.

Ian Kane heard Maeve’s shout and hurriedly came downstairs, "What’s wrong with Madam?!"

Maeve was already frightened, bowed her head, tremblingly said, "Madam accidentally scalded her hand while pouring water!"

The gentleman’s manners are excellent, usually treating us servants kindly and politely, but once it concerns Madam’s safety, it’s like his reverse scale has been touched!

Ian Kane’s lips were tightly pressed, his face dark and terrifying, "You can leave!"

Maeve was deeply panic-stricken.

Vera came out of the kitchen, looking calm and composed, "It’s my carelessness, not Maeve’s fault."

"I’m all right now."

Ian Kane stepped forward, grabbed her wrist, examined her hand, his brows furrowing, his warm and deep voice slightly reproachful, "It’s all red, how is it alright?"

Vera gently freed herself from him, "I’ve flushed cold water for a long time, it doesn’t hurt anymore."

She’s always been like this, not being pretentious, not acting coy, very tolerant.

But at this moment, Ian Kane clearly sensed her emotional downturn, and since Vera experienced family upheavals as a child, almost becoming an orphan, she’s been independent, adept at taking care of herself, how could she scald herself?

While applying burn ointment for her, he carefully asked, "Honey, did I do something wrong?"

Vera frowned, was he feeling guilty?

"I just listened to a novel while browsing videos, got absorbed while pouring water."

Ian Kane appeared skeptical, "Our refined Ms. Sheridan also listens to what kind of melodramatic novel?"

"What’s the plot, tell me." He glanced at her leisurely.

Vera looked at him, "It’s about the male protagonist getting to marry the white moonlight he pursued for years, only to cheat on her with his wife’s student."

As soon as she finished speaking, he seemed to have squeezed the ointment tube tightly, a long strip of brown ointment spilling out, and he quickly pulled several tissues to wipe it away.

His frantic appearance entirely captured her eyes.

Her heart tugged, she asked calmly, "Mr. Kane, what are you panicking about?"