Zeke Marshall followed close behind, handing Nora Ainsworth a bottle of hot milk tea he had just bought. "Nora, warm your hands. Drink so of this."
Nora Ainsworth took it, her lips trembling.
Leon Lynch closed the car door and looked at her.
"What kind of damn director was that? I’d say he was ssing with you on purpose."
Nora Ainsworth didn’t say a word, just lowered her head and slowly sipped her drink.
After she finished her drink, she went upstairs to change. When she didn’t co down for a long ti, Zeke Marshall went up to check on her and found her lying in bed, obviously feverish.
He called for Leon Lynch, and they imdiately took Nora Ainsworth to a nearby hospital. A thermoter showed her temperature was 38.8 degrees, so she was imdiately put on an IV drip to bring the fever down.
"What do you want to eat? I’ll go buy it."
Nora Ainsworth looked at him. "I want to eat..."
"?"
Nora Ainsworth huffed. "Who wants to eat you? I want so pumpkin porridge and so dumplings."
"Alright, you stay put. I’ll go buy them." Leon Lynch got up and quickly disappeared down the corridor.
From a distance, Ethan Ellsworth saw Leon Lynch run out of the hotel entrance carrying Nora Ainsworth and knew she must have a fever.
He dialed Quentin Grant’s number anyway.
"Lord Grant, can you tell , was what happened this afternoon intentional?"
Quentin Grant’s retort ca from the other end of the line. "And how did you co to that conclusion?"
"With both of them. And now, thanks to you, she’s ended up in the hospital."
There was no reply from the other end. Ethan Ellsworth continued, "You must be feeling pretty pleased with yourself, huh?"
"No," Quentin Grant said honestly. "But even if I don’t feel good about it, I need her to co to of her own accord. To beg ."
The call ended. Ethan Ellsworth stared at his phone screen, sowhat perplexed. ’Is this what love is? Just endless tornt?’
’Is this even love anymore?’
「The Grant Residence.」
The living room was filled with laughter. Mrs. Grant sat on the sofa with Catherine Callahan beside her.
Catherine Callahan now had a completely different face, one that was stunningly beautiful.
She had her jawbone shaved, her nose bridge raised, her lips plumped, and the corners of her eyes widened. She looked vastly different from her forr self.
Her return had Mrs. Grant smiling from ear to ear. They chatted for a long ti, but Quentin Grant still hadn’t co ho. Catherine Callahan finally said, "Auntie, I’ll go to Quentin’s company and look for him."
"Oh, good, good. You go ahead then."
Catherine Callahan drove to the Grant Group building.
Before she could go inside, she saw Quentin Grant walk out. He went right past her, not recognizing her at all.
Secretly delighted, she spun around and grabbed Quentin Grant’s arm.
But he flung her arm off. He turned, his cold gaze fixed on her as if she were a complete stranger.
"Quentin." The mont she spoke, Quentin Grant studied her face. "Catherine Callahan?"
"It’s ."
"What are you doing back here?"
Catherine Callahan never expected him to say that.
"Quentin, I only ca back to be with you. I won’t do anything vicious or cruel anymore."
But he completely ignored her. "I have a fiancée."
"But keeping her or not is just a matter of a word from you, isn’t it?"
He sneered but said nothing, simply striding away.
Catherine Callahan hurried to catch up. "Quentin."
He got into his car without giving her any opportunity to join him and drove off.
Catherine Callahan stomped her foot in frustration and called Charlotte Young. "I’m at the main entrance of the company. Get down here."
Upon hearing this, Charlotte Young imdiately agreed and hurried downstairs.
When Charlotte Young saw Catherine Callahan, she could hardly believe her eyes.
"Catherine, your plastic surgery was a success."
Catherine Callahan pointed to her own face. "With a face like this, I can captivate countless n."
"That’s for sure," Charlotte Young agreed.
"I heard you got engaged to Quentin?"
"He was the one who arranged it," Charlotte Young explained.
"I don’t care who arranged it. You’re going to go back, tell him you want to call off the engagent, and I’ll pay you to leave his side."
"But—"
"We had an agreent. Don’t forget that I hired you." Catherine Callahan glared at her. "You’re not actually starting to think he’ll marry you, are you?"
"Catherine, it’s not impossible."
Hearing this, Catherine Callahan slapped her across the face. "When I tell you to leave him, you leave. Or do you want to treat you the sa way I treated Nora Ainsworth?"
Charlotte Young clenched her fists. "Catherine, I don’t want the money. I’m not going to tell Young Master Grant I want to call off the engagent."
"Getting greedy, are we?" Catherine Callahan gave a chilling smile. "Do you really think you can just marry him without a hitch?"
"I’m not expecting to actually marry him. Catherine, can you just give a few more days?"
Catherine Callahan turned and left, feeling deeply unsettled.
In her sky-high heels, she drove to Quentin Grant’s villa, planning to have a serious talk with him. But she unexpectedly ran into Jean Grant instead.
Seeing Jean Grant’s prominent baby bump, Catherine Callahan struck up a conversation. "Jean, you’re pregnant?"
Jean Grant recognized her voice. "Catherine Callahan? You’ve had work done?"
"It’s ."
Jean Grant looked her up and down. "You look so beautiful after all that surgery. What are you going to do if your future kid turns out to be hideous?"
"I wasn’t ugly to begin with. I just wanted to live life with a new face."
"If you wanted a new life with a new face, then what are you doing at my brother’s gate? Don’t tell you still haven’t given up on getting back together with him?"
Catherine Callahan smiled confidently. "I’ve always been your brother’s woman. What’s there to give up on?"
Jean Grant walked past her. "Then you can wait out here."
Catherine Callahan knocked, but before anyone could answer, she pushed the door open and ran inside. The n in Black chased after her. "Miss Callahan! You can’t go in without the Young Master’s permission!"
She only made it a few steps before the n in Black caught her.
But then, Catherine Callahan faked a heart attack, scaring the n in Black so much they didn’t dare touch her again and let her pass.
She made her way to the second floor with familiar ease.
She pushed open the bedroom door and saw Quentin Grant sitting on the bed, a laptop on his legs.
The mont he saw her enter, his expression changed, and he shut the laptop.
"Who let you in?!"
Catherine Callahan closed the door and began to tug at her own clothes. "Quentin, I let myself in."
"You know how I’ve treated you all this ti. So, Catherine, we can never be together."
He remained seated, a dark storm brewing in his eyes.
"Put your clothes back on and get the hell out. Otherwise, I’ll have you thrown out."
Catherine Callahan walked toward him, unfazed. "Quentin, take a look. Isn’t my body incredible now?"
Quentin Grant threw off the covers, got out of bed, picked up her clothes from the floor, and draped them over her head. "Since you won’t listen, don’t bla for what happens next."
He grabbed her wrist and began to drag her forcibly down the stairs. They were almost out of the living room, on the verge of being thrown out completely.
Seeing from his expression that he wasn’t bluffing, Catherine Callahan grew afraid. She was terrified of the humiliation of being thrown out naked.
"Quentin, I’ll go! I’ll go! Let go of ! Let put my clothes on!"
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