Heather bit her lip and stayed silent. Tyrone looked at her for a moment, the curve of his lips deepening slightly. He then gently pinched her cheek with his fingers. "Caleb brought these clothes when he delivered breakfast," he said. "You don't like me, yet you want to claim me as yours. Where's the fairness in that?" Heather wouldn't agree to carry his child, yet she got jealous over the smallest things. This both annoyed Tyrone and made him happy. Only she could make him feel such conflicting emotions. Heather was taken aback at his words. She glanced at the clothes, finally noticing the tags still attached. Realizing they were all brand new, she felt a wave of awkwardness. "Time's running out. I'll go change," she said dismissively, grabbing a random outfit from the closet and heading toward the bathroom. Tyrone reached out and took the clothes she'd picked, his expression unreadable. "I'll help you change." "No, I can do it myself," she responded. "Then don't
For over 20 years, the ever-imposing Tyrone had never once considered a question like this—how to court a woman. But now, he had to make sure Heather's thoughts were full of him as quickly as possible. Caleb was stunned. So the serious look on Tyrone's face earlier had nothing to do with the Huntington family. He was thinking about how to make Heather fall in love with him. Though exasperated, he answered seriously, "Well, to win a girl over, you should show concern for her, take care of her, give her flowers, take her shopping for bags and pretty clothes, or maybe buy her some skincare products. Girls love those things." "Do girls really love those things?" Tyrone mused. It wasn't as if he hadn't shown Heather concern or taken care of her. Every month, her closet was stocked with the latest handbags and jewelry, yet she never seemed too impressed. Whenever they went shopping, she would only buy a Jellycat soft toy. Deciding Caleb's suggestions were useless, Tyrone scoffed
Meanwhile, in the Huntington Group's conference room, Heather suddenly sneezed, rubbing her small nose. "Ms. Sutton, are you feeling unwell? Do you need to go to the hospital?" Isaac, seated beside her, asked with concern. "I'm fine," she replied with a smile. The vast conference room was quiet, the only sounds coming from them. The atmosphere was tense. Heather looked up, her clear eyes scanning the room, taking in the shareholders' somber faces. Her gaze then settled on Winnie, who was seated at the head of the table. She was glaring at Heather, her eyes full of venom. Breaking the silence, Heather commented, "Ms. Elkin, it's been five minutes. Are we not starting the meeting?" Winnie's eyes narrowed in anger as she spat out, "How did you get your hands on Huntington Group's shares?" Isaac cut in, his tone steady, "How Ms. Sutton obtained the shares isn't the issue. What matters is that she's now the Vice President of Zenith Corporation. You've all seen the stock cert
The secretary glanced at Winnie, and when she saw no objection, she picked up the phone to make a call. Isaac leaned over and whispered to Heather, "That man is Simon Huntington, William's third uncle. He's the most senior member in the family and holds considerable influence." Just then, a few security guards rushed in. Simon pointed at Heather, shouting for them to throw her out. The rest of the room stayed silent. If Simon was willing to take the lead in confronting Tyrone, the others were more than happy to let him. Heather's eyes glimmered with amusement as she stood up slowly. "This is a major corporation. Is it really necessary to handle things this way and kick people out?" "It's best if you leave on your own. And tell Tyrone, if he's got the guts, he can come after me directly. I'm not afraid of him!" Simon barked, his face stern. Unfazed, Heather's lips curled into a faint smile. "I'll leave, but before I go, I have a few things to say." She paused briefly, the
Winnie clenched her fists, her eyes flashing with cold, venomous fury. Heather cast an icy glare her way before turning around and walking out without a backward look. The atmosphere in the conference room was stifling, with all the shareholders wearing grim expressions.Simon turned to Winnie, his face set. "Winnie, Tyrone is a tough opponent. He's clearly intent on challenging us. What's your plan to handle this?" A dangerous glint appeared in Winnie's eyes as she gritted her teeth. "That bitch thinks she can flaunt her connection to Tyrone in front of me. I won't let her get away with it!" … Heather and Isaac left the building and headed toward the parking lot. "Ms. Sutton, are you planning to go after Simon to set an example? When do you intend to act?" Isaac asked, his expression stern. They had initially planned only to attend the shareholder meeting, so Heather's bold words had caught him off guard. If they were serious about taking action, they'd need to inform T
Heather had no choice but to return to the office with Isaac. In the president's office, Caleb stood by the desk, maintaining a respectful demeanor. "Mr. Elkin," he began, "the restaurant for lunch has been reserved as requested. All the lilies from the city have been delivered, and the setup should be completed in about 40 minutes. "The violin ensemble has also arrived. After lunch, you and Ms. Sutton will visit the Frosthaven Tower, which is already closed to the public and awaiting your arrival." "Alright," Tyrone responded with a hint of indifference. His gaze wandered over several neckties laid out before him. He picked up one and asked, "How about this one?" "It matches your suit perfectly," Caleb answered honestly. Tyrone was the epitome of elegance, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist that made him particularly well-suited for suits. Often featured on the covers of financial magazines, his business success was complemented by his striking appearance. He did
"Is this Tyrone's mistress? She's quite pretty. Is she a celebrity?" When Heather woke up, her entire body throbbed with pain. Faint sounds of footsteps and nearby voices of men reached her ears. Struggling to open her eyes, she realized she was in a lavish room that resembled a grand living room. A few tall men stood not far away. "Where is this? Who are these people?" she wondered. As Heather tried to move, she felt ropes binding her hands behind her back. Panic surged through her as her eyes caught sight of a figure lying nearby. Squinting, she was shocked to recognize Janine—unconscious, hands tied like her own. Her face was pale, as if she had fainted. "Why was Janine here?" Heather thought in confusion. "Ms. Seel? Ms. Seel!" Heather tried to rise, but dizziness overwhelmed her. As soon as she stood, she collapsed back onto the floor, a sharp pain shooting through her knees. Her face went ghostly pale. Janine remained motionless. "Mr. Greg, she's awake," a man
Greg laughed at Heather's words. "Janine is Tyrone's wife. If she dies because of him, especially alongside his mistress, do you think the Seels will let him escape unscathed?" he snapped. His sneer deepened. "Tyrone is nothing but an illegitimate son. He only dares to stand before me because he's Frederick's lapdog. He destroyed the alliance between our families and angered the Seels. "Once Frederick casts him aside, do you really think he'll have the strength to fight the Seels alone?" Leaning back in his chair, Greg's pale face twisted into a cruel smile. "It's going to be quite a show. Too bad you won't be around to see it." Heather realized this was his plan. Greg knew Tyrone wouldn't back down from their feud. He planned to kill Janine and let the Seels seek their revenge. Without the Elkin family's support, Tyrone wouldn't stand a chance against either the Seels or Greg himself. By then, dealing with Tyrone would be easy for him. Greg's insidious nature was chil