Chapter 7

I know the Shaw brothers are wealthy, perhaps very wealthy, but it still doesn't diminish my shock at the scene before me.

The SUV we rode in entered through a large black gate, traversing a private road flanked by tall pine trees. Half a minute later, a three-story Victorian-era house emerged. Its ivory-white exterior contrasted with black-framed windows. The house looked somewhat antiquated, reminiscent of noble houses built in the 18th century. A fountain pool stood a few meters in front of the house, with a graceful black lion statue in its center.

For a moment, I felt transported to a late 1700s film set.

Eric halted the car a few meters from the fountain. He assisted me in opening the car door, and the cold night air welcomed me as we stepped out. I gazed at the house before me. Even the house appeared intimidating, much like its owner.

Mr. Shaw invited me inside, while Eric returned to the SUV and drove it back through the entrance road. For a moment, I wanted to ask what Eric's actual role was – a personal driver? Secretary? Bodyguard? He looked mysterious, always clad in a neatly tailored black suit, and I never saw a strand of his platinum blonde hair out of place.

As we entered the house, I couldn't help but feel a bit awkward. This room alone was almost as spacious as my entire apartment. Polished wooden floors greeted us, adorned with thick, dark red carpets. A large crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the room. Several paintings and photos adorned the white-painted walls. Two staircases flanked the right and left ends of the room.

We continued through a short hallway towards the dining and kitchen areas. Mr. Shaw went to one of the cabinets in the kitchen, producing a medium-sized crystal bottle filled with a dark red liquid. He poured it into wine glasses and glanced at me, "Wine, Eleanor?"

I nodded, standing somewhat awkwardly in his expansive kitchen. Its size was probably nearly eight times that of my apartment's kitchen. I didn't see any sign of use, almost like a display kitchen in a home goods store. I could bet Mr. Shaw had never used that stove or oven.

Mr. Shaw opened the cabinet again, pulling out another bottle of wine, this time labeled Bordeaux. He poured it into another glass. I wasn't a wine connoisseur, but the wine from the crystal bottle looked darker and richer than the Bordeaux.

Taking the glass he offered, I took a sip. Mr. Shaw drank his wine in one go, then refilled his glass from the crystal bottle, the deep red liquid filling it to the brim.

"Eric is getting dinner." He spoke while sipping his wine again. "How long has this been going on?"

I guessed he was referring to the embezzlement in his company. "I've checked financial reports for the last six months. It might have been happening even before that."

He finished his second glass of wine. I looked at him with a bit of concern, "Mr. Shaw, are you okay?"

He seemed slightly surprised by my question, eyebrows furrowing a bit, "Yeah, I'm just a bit... thirsty." He placed his empty glass on the table.

Thirsty? Normal people drink water when they're thirsty, not expensive wine. Perhaps that's the difference between normal and wealthy people.

"I haven't sent today's report to Mrs. Lynch. Would you like to see it first?" I asked, placing my wine on the table and rummaging through my bag for my flash drive.

After finding what I was looking for, I glanced up to see him. Unexpectedly, my eyes met his dark blue gaze. He looked at me like a predator observing its prey, his eyes not blinking. He was still, but there was something in his gaze that sent shivers down my spine.

The sound of my flash drive hitting the floor broke the silence between us. I blinked, then bent down to pick it up, but Mr. Shaw beat me to it. My hand accidentally touched his, and a strange feeling washed over me.

"Miss Heather..."

I looked up, meeting his gaze as he knelt in front of me. There was a momentary hesitation in his expression, as if he had just realized something crucial. Then, the next words froze me in place, "Would it be strange if I wanted to kiss you right now?"

He didn't wait for my response, his hand, which didn't hold the flash drive, cupped my face, pulling me closer to him.

Everything happened so fast; my mind hadn't finished processing what was going on when his lips touched mine, slightly moist from the wine. Then, my entire system in my head stopped, turning my brain into jelly.

He kissed me delicately at first, then the kiss deepened. Strangely, all the nerves in my body seemed to converge on my lips, making them a hundred times more sensitive. I had never felt a kiss better than this.

His lips traced mine gently, slowly, as if he didn't want to rush. I could smell the clear scent of mint and his expensive aftershave, a scent usually faint when close to him.

My heart pounded so loudly that I could almost hear its beats in my ears. Suddenly, he pulled away. I opened my eyes, looking at him. The blue of his eyes seemed darker. But I didn't have time to examine it further because the next moment I heard the sound of my flash drive hitting the floor again. His large hands cupped my face, and Mr. Shaw kissed me again.

"Nick." A voice echoed from the next room. The old wound on my neck suddenly throbbed loudly.

Mr. Shaw released the kiss, his breath slightly ragged, just like mine. He stood up, extending his hand to help me stand. A few seconds later, Gregory Shaw entered the kitchen, abruptly stopping when he saw me. His face clearly showed surprise.

"Ah... Miss Heather." He mumbled, looking at Mr. Shaw with a strange expression... or was it an accusing look?

"I met Eric outside; he left something for you." He said, placing a plastic-wrapped package on the table. He wore the same suit as I had seen earlier that morning, minus the tie. His black hair was now slightly disheveled, but he seemed unconcerned about his appearance.

"Nick, can I talk to you for a moment?" he asked, looking at his brother next to me. Suddenly, I felt like an unwelcome guest.

"Sure. I also need to talk to you. Wait a moment; I'll grab my laptop." Mr. Shaw replied before walking out, leaving me with Gregory Shaw.

I stood awkwardly, this time in front of the granite counter where we had kissed moments ago. The memory turned my face crimson.

"I didn't know Nick would bring you home, Miss Heather," Gregory said while opening a cabinet and taking out the same crystal bottle Mr. Shaw had retrieved earlier. He poured the wine into a glass and took a sip. "He never brings women here... Well, maybe only once."

I didn't understand why he was telling me this, so I didn't respond.

He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on one of the chairs. His eyes stared at the crystal wine bottle in front of him, a slight frown on his forehead. From this close, I noticed his blue eyes weren't as dark as Mr. Shaw's.

"So, how do you two know each other?" he asked, looking at me.

"Mr. Shaw helped me when—"

My sentence was cut off by Mr. Shaw's return. He brought his MacBook and placed it on the granite table. His brother approached, standing beside him, one hand holding a wine glass, and their attention focused on the laptop screen, much like before.

"What's this?" Gregory asked Mr. Shaw, his brow slightly furrowed.

"A report on embezzlement found by Miss Heather. Someone is robbing us, Greg," he murmured without diverting his gaze from the screen. "They've managed to transfer 5% of the company's funds."

Gregory Shaw whistled after hearing Mr. Shaw's explanation. He didn't seem panicked at all, in fact, neither of them did. "Do you know who did it?"

I shook my head, "The report could still be tampered with by someone else before being sent to Anna Winto— I mean, Mrs. Lynch," I muttered.

He grinned widely, "Anna Wintour?" he repeated before chuckling. His laughter was infectious, making me smile too.

"It seems I'm not the only one who thinks Mrs. Lynch resembles Anna Wintour," he added, finishing the wine in his glass.

Mr. Shaw just glanced briefly at his brother before returning to reading my report.

My wound throbbed again, loudly enough for me to unknowingly reach out to it. Gregory Shaw's eyes followed my hand's movement, and suddenly his relaxed posture became a bit tense. He placed his empty glass on the table and took his jacket from the chair.

"I'm sure Nick can handle it on his own. Well, I have to go." He mumbled, looking at his watch. "David wants to meet with me now. Good night, Miss Heather."

I responded politely. He smiled, running his hand through his slightly messy black hair.

"Oh, Nick, I still need to talk to you later," he added before walking away.

I watched him until he disappeared down the corridor. When I shifted my gaze back to Mr. Shaw, he was also observing me. I didn't like the expression on his face at the moment.

After dinner with French cuisine bought by Eric, Mr. Shaw asked a few more questions about my report. He copied it onto his laptop and returned my flash drive. During this time, his attitude towards me changed. He no longer addressed me as Eleanor. I didn't know what had happened to him, but after our kiss... he became colder towards me. At exactly 11 PM, Eric drove me home.

And that was the last time I met Nicholas Shaw.