"I see you’re completely wrapped around that Nora Ainsworth’s little finger!" Mrs. Grant said, grinding her teeth. "Never mind Catherine wanting her dead, I want her dead too!"
Jean Grant was shocked. "Mom, that’s completely unnecessary! Isn’t it enough that my brother is happy with Nora? Why does that bitch Catherine Callahan have to be my sister-in-law? My brother doesn’t like her, and neither do I."
Mrs. Grant glared at her. "You shut up. We haven’t even started talking about you yet."
Quentin Grant clenched his fists and stood up. "Mom, if you dare touch her, then you’d better prepare a coffin. You’ll be burying your son along with her."
Mrs. Grant was furious. "In your heart, the mother who gave birth to you and raised you can’t even compare to so woman? Quentin, you’ve completely broken my heart!"
Quentin Grant looked at her. "You could just accept her. She could even give you a grandson. Mom, do you really have to make things so difficult?"
A flicker of indecision crossed Mrs. Grant’s face, but her expression quickly hardened. "Quentin, how about you and I make a deal?"
"What is it?"
"I’ll allow you to date, but you can’t get married. She can only be your mistress, and you can’t marry her without my permission. In exchange, Catherine gets released, and you can’t object."
"I’m serious about her. She was already my mistress before. I want to bring our relationship into the light. Staying hidden forever... we’ll grow stale."
Mrs. Grant’s chest heaved with agitation. "If she was a mistress from the start, then just keep it that way until you’re tired of her. It’s no different from before, anyway."
Jean Grant couldn’t help but speak up. "Mom, you’re a woman too. How can you say sothing like that? How would you feel if I were Marlon Marshall’s mistress?"
"Forget mistress, I wouldn’t even want you with him in the open."
"Then can’t you try to see it from her mother’s perspective?"
Mr. Grant, unable to watch any longer, finally spoke. "Quentin, if you want to be with her, just listen to your mother. If she’s with you for you and not for your money, then you can be together even without an official title."
He stood there, his heart twisting in agony. ’I can’t give her a proper title, can’t let our love see the light of day. Is a love like this too selfish?’
’Family and my lover... how could I possibly weigh one against the other?’
"Sit down. Your matter is settled. Now, it’s ti to discuss your sister’s."
Quentin Grant sat back down, feeling like an empty shell. His soul had long since drifted to the highest heavens.
He didn’t hear a single word of what they were discussing.
He’d always thought there was nothing he couldn’t accomplish. But when it ca to truly protecting her, he realized he couldn’t bring himself to be ruthless with his own family.
’If I want to be with her, this seems to be the only way to slowly get my family to accept her. She wouldn’t want to marry with my entire family against it, either.’
He missed the middle part of the conversation. Finally, his mother’s voice cut through his thoughts. "Starting today, you will stay ho and work on your thesis. You’ll stay ho for the entire next sester, too. I’m confiscating your phone, your computer, and any other communication devices. You can read any book in the study and watch TV in the living room. Besides that, you are not to go out without my permission!"
Jean Grant sat there, stunned. "Mom, are you planning to imprison ?"
"It’s not imprisonnt. You can co with when I go out for beauty treatnts or afternoon tea. Jean, Mom is doing this for your own good. If you found soone from a suitable family we know, I naturally wouldn’t interfere. But this Marlon is on a whole other level—far too low. It’s obvious he’s only after our family’s money." Mrs. Grant’s throat was dry from talking. She picked up her teacup and took a few sips.
"I know what I want. Mom, only I can know if I’ll be happy or not. Do you really have to do this?"
"This is non-negotiable. Unless you find soone suitable from a good family to get engaged to right now, I won’t restore your freedom."
Ethan Ellsworth’s na imdiately popped into Jean Grant’s mind.
"Does Ethan Ellsworth count?"
Quentin Grant’s head snapped up. He cut in, "Jean, if you don’t genuinely accept him, I absolutely will not allow you to use his feelings."
Hearing this, Mrs. Grant’s face lit up with a smile. "That Ellsworth boy likes our Jean? Wonderful!"
Mr. Grant added his praise. "That kid is young and promising. I heard from his father long ago that they’re planning to have him take over the company when he turns thirty. If Jean really gets engaged to him, that would be excellent."
Jean Grant lowered her gaze ekly to the floor. "He asked out to ’Lips’ yesterday. He said he’s liked for a long ti... but I turned him down."
"What?" Mrs. Grant beat her chest. "It seems you won’t be satisfied until you’ve angered to death! Call him right now. Tell him you’ll et him at ’Lips’ in a private room shortly, and you’ll talk to him about this."
Jean Grant slowly took out her phone. She had only blurted out Ethan Ellsworth’s na to use him as a shield; she just wanted an excuse to go out and see Marlon. She never expected it would lead to this.
She had no choice but to bite the bullet and call Ethan Ellsworth.
After a few rings, the call connected.
"Put it on speaker," Mrs. Grant ordered in a low voice.
Jean Grant had no choice but to turn on the speaker. Ethan Ellsworth’s voice ca through. "Hello?"
"It’s , Jean."
"I know."
Jean Grant was in agony. Finally, seeing no other way out, she forced herself to say, "Could you go to ’Lips’ and wait for ? I have sothing important to tell you."
"If you have sothing to say, just say it over the phone." Those were the exact words she had said to him last night.
Jean Grant continued, "My mom wants to discuss getting engaged with you."
The other end of the line was silent for a long mont before a single word ca out: "Okay."
"So, can you go there now and wait for ? I’ll be there soon."
"Alright."
After hanging up, Jean Grant stood up. "I’m going."
Only then did a smile appear on Mrs. Grant’s face. "Go on. I’ll call Ellsworth tomorrow morning. If you haven’t told him, Jean, you won’t be leaving this house again!"
Jean Grant nodded sheepishly and quickened her pace out of the Grant Residence.
The mont she stepped out the door, she looked up at the sky. Behind her, footsteps approached the doorway.
She knew who it was without turning around.
Quentin Grant stood beside her and said in a low voice, "Jean, do you know why Ethan rejected you when you confessed to him in elentary school?"
Jean Grant replied, "Brother, that was a long ti ago. I don’t want to hear the answer. Let the past be the past. Back then, I was just a kid who thought any good-looking boy was a good person. I know now that’s not entirely true. We’ve known each other for so long. Even if I don’t know him completely, don’t you think I know a thing or two about what kind of person he is? Was this morning’s news report just a baseless rumor?"
She walked to the front of her Porsche, got in, and drove away.
Watching her car disappear into the night, Quentin Grant was startled to realize he had been sitting there for hours without noticing.
*
When Nora Ainsworth woke up, Quentin Grant was already gone. She put on her teddy bear slippers, had sothing to eat, and knew exactly where he had gone.
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