CHAPTER 206: CHAPTER 206: WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP?

Vera felt a sudden realization, understanding that the night Noah Grant rushed to Bernheim was after receiving a call from this woman.

Friend? Business partner?

But the sight of him kneeling down to tie another woman’s shoelace pierced her eyes.

It was also the first time Vera saw Noah Grant being so considerate to a woman other than herself.

A surge of intense jealousy welled up in her heart, her eyes tinged with redness. She trembled as she sent the text message and email address to Wade Winslows, asking him to investigate the sender’s identity.

Though her intuition told her it was Vivian Langdon.

As for the motive, it’s obviously to create a rift between her and Noah Grant.

Vera let out a heavy sigh, turned on the speaker, turned the volume to maximum, put on her dance shoes, and started practicing.

In the large floor-to-ceiling mirror, she stood on her toes, her body spinning like a top, ending the 32 fouetté turns without stopping.

Sweat trickled down her fair swan-like neck, the back of the black yoga outfit clinging damply to her skin.

She was oblivious.

Until Lucky meowed persistently at the door.

The air faintly carried the scent of something burning.

Vera abruptly stopped, dizziness flooded over her like a tide. Holding onto the barre, she hesitated for a few seconds before realizing the smell was real.

As she opened the door, a rush of smoke assaulted her senses, instantly tensing her nerves, as she rushed towards the kitchen.

On the stove, the creamy white casserole was burnt to a dark yellow, smoke pouring from its vents, the acrid smell overwhelming.

Vera took a deep breath, calmly turned off the gas, donned heat-resistant gloves, picked up the casserole, and placed it under running water in the sink.

Inside the casserole, the white fungus, lotus seeds, and lily soup were already burnt to charcoal.

"Meow~" Lucky stood on the edge of the sink, tail high, rubbing its head against Vera’s arm, as if seeking comfort or offering reassurance.

Vera picked it up and settled onto the living room sofa.

...

Solstice Group, top floor meeting room.

The meeting adjourned.

In the vast meeting room, only Noah Grant and Silas Ford remained, with their assistant Micah nearby.

Noah Grant was signing documents.

Silas Ford asked, "Heard Joel Quinn moved back domestically? Any traces of the mastermind?"

Noah Grant paused slightly in his signing, "His condition stabilized, safer back home, but the perpetrator is still under investigation."

Silas Ford nodded, picked up his cigarette box, shook out a cigarette, and offered its tip to him, "Want one?"

Noah Grant didn’t lift his head, "Wife is strict, doesn’t allow smoking."

"You better not smoke around me either."

Silas Ford was momentarily taken aback, leaning back in the chair, looking at him leisurely, tapping his shoe against the floor, speaking in a rueful tone, "Wife... official now?"

Noah Grant closed the document, glanced at his watch, leaned back in his seat, chin slightly raised, eyes full of satisfaction, "Yes."

Silas Ford grinned, "After being a bachelor for over thirty years, finally Second Master Grant has found a wife!"

In their circle, Noah Grant was the most innocent. Others, let alone marriage and kids, had several second marriages already!

"It’s worth celebrating! How about getting Ms. Sheridan together with the guys for an outing? Tonight, The Elysian Club!"

Noah Grant couldn’t escape a sense of pride — bringing his woman into his social circle.

"Ms. Sheridan likes peace, she’s currently preparing for competition, might not agree, I’ll ask."

With that, he picked up his phone and walked towards the floor-to-ceiling window.

As the sunset faded, the indoor light dimmed, Vera sat on the sofa, Lucky nestled in her arms, eyes on the projector, watching past The Lorraine Ballet Competition videos.

Then, the phone rang.

Looking at the incoming call on the screen, Vera felt a bittersweet sensation in her heart as she slowly answered.

On the other end, his voice was gentle, "Ms. Sheridan, tonight my partners organized a dinner, willing to join us for a meal?"

Sounding as if nothing mattered at all.

Vera frowned, unsure what to reply.

"What’s wrong?" not getting her response, his tone deepened, "Feeling unwell again?"

His deep voice carried tender concern.

Vera’s nose tingled briefly, she thought to herself, "Not unwell, where is the gathering?"

Realizing she was willing, Noah Grant’s elegant and handsome face, bathed in golden light, broke into a smile, "The Elysian Club."

Veridia’s most mysterious high-end venue, Vera had heard of it during university, "Alright."

Noah Grant pressed his tongue against his cheek, his eyes filled with mirth, "I’ve got a video conference, can’t personally pick you up, will send a driver for you, is that alright?"

Vera replied with a simple "Alright."

...

The Elysian Club, the lobby elegantly styled, with pleasant sounds of silk and bamboo.

Vera arrived at the elevator escorted by bodyguards.

The elevator door was about to close, with someone inside promptly pressing to open for her.

A tall, slender figure entered her sight, the man dressed sharply, with handsome, deep features, cold white skin, fiddling with a string of small-leaf rosewood Buddha Beads, emanating a chilling aura.

Vera paused, feeling she had seen him somewhere before.

The man inside looked coolly distant, speaking flatly, "Not coming up?"

Vera stepped in, "Thank you."

The man nodded slightly, fiddling with the Buddha Beads.

The bodyguards positioned themselves in front of Vera without pressing any buttons.

The elevator stopped on the 9th floor, the man beside them sidestepped with a gentlemanly demeanor, seemingly indicating ladies first, yet his expression remained cool, without expression.

Vera nodded in acknowledgment, passing by him.

The corridor was silent, the air was infused with a refined woody fragrance, Vera walked toward the VIP suite escorted by bodyguards.

Behind her, the man moved unhurriedly, exuding a commanding presence.

Suddenly, a woman dressed in a qipao, with a graceful figure, emerged from a suite, phone against her ear, her voice flirtatious and coquettish, "President Yorke, how could Nina forget you? I miss you—"

The woman noticed Vera as she turned, her voice silenced, her smile frozen.

Vera recognized her too.

Nina Sullivan.

Images of the text message suddenly appeared in Vera’s mind, her expression didn’t betray any waves.

Their eyes met, Nina Sullivan lowered her phone, elegantly inhaled a cigarette, glanced at Vera’s right ankle, and smiled gracefully, "Ms. Sheridan."

The navy knitted dress naturally draped, accentuating her slender curves, under the dim, yellow light, her exquisite face showed no expression, her temperament still cold and elegant.

After two years, facing Vera again, Nina Sullivan’s inherent inferiority complex reemerged, trying to maintain her posture to not appear so embarrassed.

Vera merely nodded lightly, passing by her.

After a few steps, only to hear Nina Sullivan respectfully call out, "Third Master Payne!"

Third Master Payne.

Mrs. Payne’s third brother.

Vera suddenly remembered.

At this moment, a familiar male presence enveloped Vera, the next second she was embraced into a warm hold, the man leaned down, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"You’re here." Noah Grant gazed down at her, eyes filled with affection.

Vera clenched her phone tightly, looked up at him, all the confusion and bitterness from the afternoon welled up, immediately reaching her lips, "What’s your relationship with that pregnant woman..."