"It was just a normal al." His face looked weary.
"She’s been with a lot of n. Brother, don’t fall for her tricks. There are plenty of other won out there. If you want to get married, I can introduce you to soone," Sharon Ainsworth said frantically. "But you absolutely cannot get involved with her. She’s a jinx. Anyone who knows her has bad luck."
"Okay."
"Brother, you look terrible. What’s wrong? Is there a tough problem at the company?"
"For so reason, the company’s stock has been dropping for the past few days. Dad is still at the office right now. I have a bad feeling about this; it’s not a good sign." Nicholas Ainsworth picked up the keys from the table. "I’m heading out. You should get to bed early."
Sharon Ainsworth analyzed her brother’s words, feeling uneasy as she sat there.
She went upstairs and looked at the wedding photos she had once taken with Quentin Grant, now stored in the closet. It all felt like a dream. ’How did things end up like this?’
"Young Master, you’re back?" The man in black guarding the gate opened the car door and handed him an umbrella.
"Yes." He strode into the courtyard.
"How was Miss Young?"
Quentin Grant turned his head. "Are you trying to ask about my private affairs?"
"I wouldn’t dare."
He walked to the living room entrance, and, as if struck by a sudden thought, slamd the umbrella onto the ground. The force of the impact broke the support ribs of the perfectly good umbrella.
The man in black was startled. He waited until he heard Quentin change his shoes and go upstairs.
Only then did he dare to whisper his opinion.
"What’s wrong with the Young Master?" said Man in Black A.
"I don’t know. He’s clearly been in a bad mood lately," analyzed Man in Black B.
"Ever since Miss Ainsworth left, the Young Master has been empty and lonely. Don’t you rember? In the early morning of the day she left, before dawn, the Young Master stood naked on the balcony for a long ti. It’s just... he wasn’t like this before Miss Ainsworth ca along," sighed Man in Black C.
"..."
Quentin Grant walked into the study.
He opened his computer and entered a chat room.
Herman Hawthorne’s magnified face appeared on the screen, wearing a punchable expression that was a complete mismatch for the cold face he usually wore at the guild.
Quentin Grant got up to make so tea, then sat back down in his chair with the steaming cup.
"You did that on purpose tonight, didn’t you?"
"Yes," Herman Hawthorne admitted freely. "Otherwise, there would have been no way to introduce Nora."
"Did she need an introduction from you like that?" Quentin Grant said through clenched teeth, word by word.
"Young Master Grant, how can you be so ungrateful? Did you forget who helped cover for you back then? What, just because you broke up, I can’t be your cover anymore? To be honest, seeing you with such a beautiful woman makes envious, too. So, I’m more than happy to be Nora’s boyfriend."
Quentin Grant drank his tea, sipping it slowly, in no rush to answer him.
After what felt like half a century, he finally said, "You’re trying to get information out of . I get it. Go ahead, what do you want to know?"
"What exactly are you planning?"
Quentin Grant looked at the screen. "I just hope she’ll be okay."
"Quentin, you can’t be—" Herman Hawthorne’s expression vanished, and he looked at him grimly.
Quentin Grant took a light sip from his teacup and ended the video call.
Herman Hawthorne hadn’t even processed his own reaction yet. By the ti he realized Quentin had hung up, he was staring at a blank screen. Herman’s thoughts shifted, and suddenly, Young Master Grant’s image grew imnsely noble and magnified in his mind.
anwhile, Quentin Grant returned to his bedroom and lay down on his usual side of the bed.
His gaze fell upon the spot where Nora Ainsworth used to sleep. To this day, no one had slept there.
A single hair clip lay quietly inside a drawer.
He had found it on his one and only walk after her "accident."
Countless people had passed by it, but no one had seen it, and no one had picked it up.
But with a single glance, he had known it was hers.
He held it in his palm, his eyes fixed on the small object, but the sight felt unusually searing.
Rembering her smile, as radiant as a flower, the corners of his lips curved up without him even realizing it.
Nora Ainsworth lay in bed, her mind filled with thoughts of Quentin Grant and Charlotte Young. For no reason, she would imagine Charlotte Young lying on the side of the bed she used to sleep on, sitting in the hanging chair on the balcony she loved, and throwing away her belongings.
She would also inexplicably imagine them kissing, doing all the things that she and Quentin Grant used to do together.
’Maybe they’ll even get married and have their own children. If we ran into each other then, would they pretend not to know , too?’
Nora Ainsworth tossed and turned. ’I must be sick. I must have so kind of delusion. I need to see a doctor.’
She had originally thought that escaping his control would be a reason to be happy and excited, but that clearly wasn’t the case.
She didn’t feel a shred of happiness. Instead, she found herself missing the days they lived together.
Nora Ainsworth picked up her phone, her finger swiping across the screen. She logged into MSN and saw that Quentin Grant’s icon was gray. Then she logged off.
Nora Ainsworth felt like she had grown accustod to being tornted. If a day went by without it, it just didn’t feel right.
’This is a sickness. It needs to be cured.’
She closed her eyes, forcing herself to sleep. Ten minutes passed, but she wasn’t sleepy. Half an hour passed, and she still couldn’t sleep. After an hour, Nora Ainsworth sat up.
She was extrely agitated, though she couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason. But when her mind replayed the mont she first saw Charlotte Young, she wished she could have thrown that woman out of the bar.
’What gives her the right to sit next to him?’
’That’s my spot!’
After reaching that conclusion, Nora Ainsworth froze on the spot.
Nora Ainsworth felt like she was going completely crazy. She lay back down, her eyes wide open.
She tossed and turned countless tis that night. Nora Ainsworth didn’t even know how she finally fell asleep, only that when she woke up, she was slumped over the side of the bed, her blanket on the floor.
Rembering she had a contract signing today, she imdiately stood up and went to take a shower.
She wouldn’t be able to make it to class; she was already obviously late.
After her shower, she dried her hair, put on makeup, and found a presentable outfit before finally heading out.
She waited at the agreed-upon spot for her ride. Just as she got downstairs, the driver arrived, and she got in.
The sky was gray and overcast, and a light rain was falling.
When she got out of the car, she froze.
The location for the contract signing was none other than Grant Group Tower.
"Are you sure this is the right place?" Nora Ainsworth had to ask the staff mber who picked her up.
"Yes, Miss Ainsworth. It’s the Grant Group, that’s correct. I’m sure it’s a surprise, but don’t worry. Our company may be big, but we keep our word."
Thinking about her sleepless night, Nora Ainsworth suddenly felt a sense of clarity.
She gave a slight smile. "I just wasn’t expecting it."
She followed him into the elevator and went upstairs. When she was handed the contract, her mind was still stuck on the fact that this was Quentin Grant’s company, and she hadn’t quite snapped out of her daze.
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