Quentin Grant woke up.
He was a bit dazed. He sat up and found himself completely naked.
Just as he finished dressing, Catherine Callahan ca out, stark naked.
"Quentin, you’re awake?"
Quentin Grant’s expression changed abruptly. "What are you doing here?"
"Don’t you rember? You burst in here last night. I was sleeping, and you just grabbed without a second thought— we, last night—"
He stood there, with no mory of what she was talking about.
He walked toward her, step by step. "Catherine Callahan, nothing better have happened last night. Otherwise, I don’t care who you are, you’ll die a horrible death."
But she just laughed recklessly. "What if I get pregnant with your child? Would you have the heart to kill then?"
His hands trembled. He slapped her across the face with the force of a hurricane. "So shaless!"
Catherine Callahan clutched her face, turning to glare at him angrily. "Quentin, I did all of this because I love you too much! You were the one who broke our vows in the first place. I left because of you, you abandoned first! I tried so hard to hold on to you, but you didn’t even look back. I just want that bitch Nora Ainsworth to know that I can have your child, and she can’t!"
Quentin Grant looked at her. "So it was preditated. You couldn’t have kept unconscious all night on your own. My mother helped you."
He turned and strode quickly toward the door.
Catherine Callahan leisurely got dressed.
Quentin Grant went downstairs and imdiately saw Mrs. Grant sitting on the sofa.
When Mrs. Grant saw him co down, her heart skipped a beat. She felt too guilty to look up at him.
Quentin Grant could barely stand. He never would have imagined that his own mother would personally set a trap for him. ’Is she even my mother anymore?’
As he walked toward her, Mr. Grant appeared at the doorway. Seeing the thunderous look on his son’s face, he stood there, not daring to enter.
"Didn’t you say you’d let be with Nora?"
Faced with his question, Mrs. Grant remained silent.
"You asked to co ho last night just so you could knock out?"
She still said nothing, tacitly admitting it.
"I’m asking you a question, Mrs. Grant."
That form of address created a rift between mother and son.
Mrs. Grant lifted her head. "Quentin, what did you just call ?"
"Mrs. Grant, I, Quentin Grant, will make you see the consequences of doing this to . Even though you are my biological mother, from this mont on, you are no longer worthy of the title. If this incident becos the biggest obstacle between Nora and , I will never set foot in this house again!"
He turned to leave, but Mrs. Grant panicked and grabbed his arm tightly. "Quentin, forgive Mom this one ti. Mom did it for your own good. I just wanted you to co to your senses. Don’t be like this. You’re my only son. If you act like this, what will Mom do in the future?"
He whipped his head around, his eyes bloodshot, and roared, "Then have you ever thought about what I’m supposed to do now?! You’ve ruined ! You’ve ruined my happiness! Do you even deserve to be my mother? You’d even sche against your own son! Why don’t you just live your own life then!"
Shaking off her hand, Quentin Grant walked out swiftly. As he passed the doorway, he didn’t say a word to Mr. Grant either.
Mrs. Grant stood there as if she had lost her soul.
Mr. Grant’s expression was just as cold. "I knew this would be the result. With Quentin’s temper, it would be a miracle if he listened to your arrangents. He’s not . You’ve done this twice now. The first ti, you used this trick to make marry you. Now you’re using the sa trick on your own son. Sooner or later, you’ll be deserted by everyone."
Mrs. Grant muttered to herself, "He’s my son. He’s just saying things out of anger. He’ll get over it after a while. There are plenty of won out there, but you only get one mother."
But Mr. Grant didn’t think so. "I’m not so sure about that."
Catherine Callahan ca downstairs and sat beside Mrs. Grant. "Godmother, was Quentin angry?"
Mrs. Grant patted her hand. "It’s alright. He’s just saying things in anger. As long as you successfully get pregnant this ti, everything will be fine."
Catherine Callahan gave a faint smile.
Quentin Grant left the Grant Residence and stood in front of his car, knowing he had made a huge mistake.
The snow on the car had been cleared away by a servant. He opened the door and sat inside.
He stared straight ahead, motionless.
He took out his phone. On it was a photo of himself with Nora Ainsworth.
Looking at her smile, his heart grew heavy.
When he arrived at the company, a security guard opened his car door. Quentin Grant walked into the lobby, where the first-floor manager and employees were lined up on either side of the entrance, bowing to him in unison.
They shouted together, "Congratulations, President Grant!"
He frowned. "Congratulations for what?"
The lobby manager said with a broad smile, "President Grant, it’s all over the news. Don’t keep it from us. The story about you and Miss Callahan spending the night together... it even says you’re planning to get married."
He forced out two words, "Not true."
He then got into the elevator. When he stepped out, his secretary handed him a newspaper.
The front page was covered with reports about him and Catherine Callahan. The news was everywhere.
’This must have already reached her abroad.’
He pushed open his office door, turned on his computer, glanced at the news, and imdiately dragged the articles into the trash bin.
anwhile, Nora Ainsworth, who was online getting ready to watch so TV, was stunned by a sudden pop-up. Her hand clicked on the explosive news story.
She read it from beginning to end without missing a single word. The article was accompanied by old, romantic photos of Quentin Grant and Cassandra Callahan.
She didn’t even know who this woman nad Cassandra Callahan was.
But seeing her standing with him in the photos was jarring.
A sentence from the news kept echoing in her ears: *They were together all night, and according to the parties involved, the two have decided to get married.*
Her gaze was fixed on the photo. Her heart suddenly ached with an unbearable pain, and her eyes felt as if they weren’t her own as tears stread down her face.
Quentin Grant knew it was too late to stop the news from spreading.
In the past, he would have completely ignored sothing like this.
But now, he ordered his staff to arrange a press conference.
The press conference was to be held in the Grant Group’s reception hall.
It was scheduled for nine o’clock.
When the ti ca, he went downstairs. No one could understand his desperate need to set the record straight.
He himself didn’t know what had happened last night. Based solely on the fact that they were both naked that morning, even if sothing had occurred, it wasn’t what he wanted.
He pushed open the door. A huge number of dia representatives had co.
Quentin Grant, dressed in a suit, stood before the microphones, his expression calm. "I’ve gathered everyone here today to clarify this morning’s news. I have no intention of marrying Miss Callahan—not now, and not ever. My relationship with her ended a very long ti ago. I will not address this issue again in the future. If I ever marry, I will only marry a woman nad Nora Ainsworth. She is destined to be my partner for life. As for any other woman who shalessly resorts to underhanded tactics without any self-respect, there will certainly be consequences. She should watch her step!"
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