All eyes were fixed on the large screen at the front of the conference room.
The shifting light and shadows danced across the man’s face, making it flicker between bright and dark.
Beneath his glasses, his calm black eyes lowered, sweeping impassively over the mischievous hand on the back of his own.
His hand was wrapped in several thick layers of gauze. The woman’s soft fingers brushed over it gently, the sensation indistinct through the dressing.
But for so reason, Silas Grant suddenly felt his wound begin to seep blood again. In an instant, a wave of pain washed over him. It was so intense that his fingers, resting on his knee, curled uncontrollably, as if trying to grasp sothing to alleviate the piercing agony.
Their fingertips touched for just a second before he clenched his fist, enveloping her hand tightly in his grasp and pressing it firmly against his wound.
The figure beside him seed to freeze, wanting to pull her hand back but not daring to make any sudden moves.
He toyed with her fingers, his thumb repeatedly caressing her knuckles.
Even such a simple gesture was filled with the intimacy of lovers.
The other directors were seated on either side of the long table, so they couldn’t see what Silas Grant was doing under it.
However, from his position diagonally behind Silas Grant, his secretary took in their entire interaction.
The woman before him was tall with waist-long curly hair. A pair of black-frad glasses rested on her face, and she wore an extrely out-of-place mask that obscured her features.
He didn’t recognize her at first, but he wasn’t an idiot. The only person who could be this intimate and brazen with their Mr. Grant...
It had to be the Second Miss. But when he’d gone to open the door just now, he’d clearly heard her say she was Simon Adler’s assistant. When did the Second Miss get to know Mr. Adler?
The secretary snuck a glance at Simon Adler and saw that he was also looking in their direction.
Simon Adler’s seat wasn’t far from Silas Grant’s, just to his right. Taking advantage of the others’ distraction, he too was stealthily observing the activity around Silas.
Although he didn’t know what they were doing, he couldn’t help but frown deeply the mont he saw Mia Grant.
It was as if he’d seen sothing filthy.
Mia Grant t his gaze openly. Her brow twitched, and she offered a provocative smile.
Simon Adler looked away. After one last glance at Silas Grant, he ignored her.
Mia Grant desperately wanted to roll her eyes at him, but it wasn’t the right ti, so she forced herself to resist.
Lowering her gaze, she glanced at the figure seated in the chair.
Silas Grant’s expression was focused, his dark eyes slightly narrowed as he stared straight ahead. But his hand never let go of hers.
After staring at the gauze on the back of his hand for a few seconds, Mia Grant struggled slightly and whispered into his ear, "Brother, let go for a second..."
As she spoke, her warm breath felt like a deliberate puff of air against his ear. Silas Grant’s grip tightened, and he shot her a look from the corner of his eye.
His gaze wasn’t one of reproach, but rather one of fond exasperation, as if to say, ’I’m busy, don’t ss around.’
And yet, he refused to let go.
Left with no other choice, Mia Grant quietly poked his arm with her other hand.
He didn’t move, so she poked him again.
After a few rounds of this, he finally released her.
It wasn’t a concession, however. It was because he felt a warm liquid slowly spreading across his palm.
His wound had started bleeding again.
Soone noticed the commotion and, seeing the unexpected presence of Mia Grant, asked curiously, "And this is?"
Simon Adler cleared his throat. "My assistant. She was just dropping off so coffee."
"I see." A few of them let their gazes linger on Mia Grant for several seconds, their intentions unclear.
Everyone present was a sly old fox, each one sharper than the next.
Silas Grant glanced sideways, giving Simon Adler a look. Simon raised his hand and said to Mia, "You can go now."
Before leaving, Mia Grant gave Silas Grant a deep look, just as he happened to look over at her.
Their eyes t for a brief mont. His fingers, resting on the table, twitched, his fingertips giving a tiny wave in the air. His gesture, along with his gaze, seed to say: ’Wait for .’
—
Out in the hallway, Lee saw the door open and finally let out a sigh of relief.
"This way." Lee opened the door to the office across the hall, motioning for her to hurry inside.
Mia Grant had just stepped out and hadn’t yet entered Simon Adler’s office when the conference room door opened again behind her.
"One mont."
Silas Grant’s secretary ca out, hurriedly pressed a card into her hand, and whispered, "Take this to the top floor. Soone will lead you to a safe place to wait for Mr. Grant."
Mia Grant nodded. "I’ll go up now."
Lee frowned. "But my boss..."
"It’s Mr. Grant’s order."
That left Lee with nothing to say.
Mia Grant reached the top floor without any trouble. The mont she stepped out of the elevator, soone quickly approached her.
She looked over warily. It was a young woman, who nodded at her and said in a low voice, "Eric already spoke with . He told to take you."
Mia Grant followed her through a series of twists and turns into a dim hallway lit only by floor-level lights. It felt like entering a secret chamber—just a passage with no rooms and no end in sight. The thick darkness was like being in a cave.
If the person leading her hadn’t been one of Silas Grant’s, she would have started to question their motives.
After about two minutes of walking, they reached the end.
There was no path ahead.
The woman stopped and pressed sothing on the wall. A mont later, a section of the wall shifted, revealing a hidden door.
The woman pointed to the lock. "You can open the door and go in now."
"?" Suspicious, Mia Grant stepped forward. ’So there’s a secret door here after all.’
She took out the card the secretary had given her and tried scanning it.
Access granted.
Light poured out, and the view before her suddenly opened up.
Mia Grant cautiously surveyed her surroundings.
The room was empty but fully furnished. Judging by the style, it seed to be a private lounge. Built so secretively, it had to be Silas Grant’s.
The scent in here was very similar to his cologne.
"Is this my brother’s lounge?"
"This is considered Mr. Grant’s private space. No one can enter besides him."
The woman pointed in a certain direction. "Through that door is Mr. Grant’s actual lounge, which connects to his office."
"Please wait here for a mont. Mr. Grant will co over after the eting."
Mia Grant glanced down at her phone. The signal wasn’t affected.
"Okay, I understand."
The secret door closed. Like a hound patrolling its territory, Mia Grant circled the room once. Everything seed normal.
"Yates?"
The words had barely left her mouth when a lazy voice ca through: "Here~"
Mia Grant let out a sigh of relief and sat down on the bed. "Why were you so quiet? I thought we got disconnected."
"I was just afraid of interrupting your little family reunion."
"..."
"Let’s be serious. I’m in my brother’s office now."
"I heard," Yates Donovan said with a yawn. "Building a secret room inside his office... He’s so shaless."
The corner of Mia Grant’s mouth twitched. "You think everyone’s like you?"
"Don’t believe ? C’mon, c’mon, turn on the video."
The video feed opened, and Mia Grant flipped the cara around as instructed.
Yates Donovan comnted as he observed, "What normal person builds a lounge inside their own lounge?"
"Either he’s hiding sothing in here that can’t see the light of day... or..."
"Or?" Mia Grant prompted him to continue.
"Or... he’s preparing to hide sothing that can’t see the light of day. For example—"
On the screen, the smile on Yates Donovan’s lips widened. "You."
"Congratulations. The imprisonnt play has now begun."
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