The sound landed, then he asked, "Are you hungry?"
"Not hungry."
"Hmm." Caiden Ward continued walking, went up the steps, and said to the middle-aged man coming to greet them, "No need to prepare dinner, have Ann and Bella co up quickly."
"Alright, President Ward." The man replied, following him inside.
Upon entering, Blair Chester was dazzled by the luxurious hall.
She didn’t have ti to look around before hearing a synchronized, smiling greeting from all sides, "Hello, President Ward."
Caiden wasn’t stingy with his smile, guiding her to the private elevator.
The young man in the immaculate suit greeted them, pressed the elevator button, and followed them up.
Blair nervously felt an unprovoked anxiety.
For the first ti, she deeply felt the pressure emanating from the man beside her.
Wherever he went, it was as if he was a luminary, always surrounded by attention.
As her mind wandered, the elevator chid softly, arriving at the twenty-sixth floor.
The young man quickly turned left, opened the door and turned on the lights for them, then made a perfectly executed gesture, bowing with a smile, "President Ward, please."
His gaze never once fell on her.
Her beauty, figure, and poise, which she always prided herself on, were of no consequence; she had completely beco a re accessory by Caiden Ward’s side.
Caiden nodded, removing his jacket and handing it over, then lowered his head to change into slippers.
Blair followed closely.
Taking a few steps, she surveyed the opulent European aristocratic-style presidential suite, her eyes flickering slightly.
Suppressing the awe in her heart.
The young man quietly tidied up the room and then left silently.
Soon after, two young Caucasian girls ca in, greeted Caiden with a smile, and one led her to the secondary bedroom’s bathroom.
With the bathtub filled and toiletries set out swiftly, it looked as though they intended to help her bathe.
Blair was both surprised and uneasy, declining, "Thank you, no need."
"Rest assured, Miss, I’m very gentle."
"That’s not it."
"So, does it feel inconvenient?" The girl looked slightly troubled, "But..."
"Not really." Blair pressed her hand to her forehead, probing, "Does your President Ward often bring won here?"
The girl glanced at her, smiled, and said nothing.
Blair ca to her senses, and simply chose not to ask anymore.
She went ahead to take a bath.
Coming out again—
Caiden was already waiting in a robe.
He glanced at her, his gaze drawn to her silken, cascading long hair, then rose to wrap an arm around her shoulders.
The two of them went to the floor-to-ceiling window, Caiden handed her a half glass of wine.
Blair sipped it.
The two girls tidying up in the bedroom made very little noise and quickly seed to have left.
Blair had a bit of a tolerance, so she wasn’t drunk, yet emboldened by the alcohol, she tilted her head up, eyes slightly squinted, and tested Caiden, "Does President Ward often bring won here?"
The question was a thorn in her throat; she couldn’t feel comfortable without asking it.
Once asked, she didn’t feel comfortable either.
Caiden raised an eyebrow, pinching the back of her neck, chuckled low, "Jealous?"
Blair pursed her lips, hugging his waist.
Caiden’s laughter spilled out, lifting her into his arms, walking toward the bed, saying as he went, "I like won who are a bit more sensible."
Blair was montarily stunned, placed onto the bed by him.
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