When she emerged from the bathroom, the faint vibration of her phone drew her attention. She approached hesitantly, just in time to see Nate’s name flashing on the screen as another call came through.
Corrine hesitated, her thumb hovering before she finally swiped to answer.
“Corrine?” Nate’s voice was deep and rich, carrying a subtle warmth that made her heart clench and race all at once.
She inhaled slowly, steadying herself before responding in an even tone, “Is there something you needed?”
“You didn’t reply to my message.” His words were calm yet playful, laced with a lighthearted undertone
“I’m just glad to hear your voice again.”
The weight of his words wasn’t lost on her. She tilted her head, her lips curving faintly.
“Afraid I’d block you?”
“Would you?” Nate’s voice was low and unhurried, carrying a soft warmth that clung to her like a lover’s caress.
“You wouldn’t have the heart to.”
Wouldn’t she?
Corrine’s thoughts tangled, but deep down, she knew the answer. She wouldn’t. Otherwise, why had she allowed him to carve out a place in her world, let herself drift into the pull of his gentle persistence, or feel that twinge of irritation when he called her an “unexpected twist”?
His quiet affection had planted itself firmly in the barren corners of her heart, a tiny spark now yearning to bloom into something more.
“It’s late. You should get some rest. Goodnight.”
She quickly ended the call, her fingers trembling slightly as she set the phone down. This night, like her heart, was destined to remain restless.
The next morning, Corrine left the Ford Mansion and headed straight to the bidding event for the land in the southern district of the city. On the way, Natasha briefed her on the itinerary, her voice steady and professional, when a sudden ring interrupted from the phone in her pocket.
Natasha glanced at the screen, noting the unfamiliar number. Her brow furrowed slightly as she answered, speaking in a polite but detached tone.
“Hello, this is Natasha.”
“Good morning, Miss Dixon.” Bruce’s voice filtered through, smooth and confident.
“This is Bruce Ashton from Ashton Group. I’d like to arrange a personal meeting with Miss Holland. Is there a time that works for her?”
Natasha didn’t pause before responding, her tone calm yet firm.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Ashton, but Miss Holland is currently unavailable and will remain so indefinitely.” Her words carried an unmistakable finality.
Any astute listener would understand the underlying message-Ford Group’s new CEO had no intention of granting him an audience.
On the other end, Bruce’s features tightened. His previously composed demeanor shifted, irritation flaring at Natasha’s unyielding response. Knowing his opponent was necessary for him to defeat them was a rule Bruce lived by. For days, he had quietly dug into the identity of Ford Group’s newly appointed CEO.
And yet, all his efforts had yielded nothing but a single, frustrating detail-the CEO was a woman with the surname Holland. Even the exorbitant amount he spent obtaining a photo of her had been wasted. His computer inexplicably crashed with a virus before he could open the file.
Now, with no other options, he had decided on a direct approach. He intended to meet her, to gauge her confidence in acquiring the land, and perhaps even discuss a collaboration if his own bid fell through.
But Natasha’s curt dismissal derailed his plan. Still, Bruce’s tone remained measured, though his grip on the phone tightened
“Miss Nixon, I genuinely hope to meet with Miss Holland. Surely, you can help facilitate this-“
“Apologies, but I cannot assist you,” Natasha cut in, her voice resolute.
She ended the call without giving him another moment to speak. The abrupt disconnection left Bruce staring at the phone in disbelief, his jaw tightening. A cold shadow crossed his expression, and the air in the car seemed to drop several degrees.
His assistant, who had been quietly watching the exchange, finally gathered the courage to speak, his voice timid.
“Mr. Ashton, we’ve arrived.”
Bruce lifted his gaze, his dark eyes narrowing into sharp, cutting slits as they locked onto his assistant, who fidgeted nervously in the front seat.
“Did we manage to uncover anything worthwhile about Ford Group?” His tone was flat, devoid of warmth, yet it carried a weight that demanded an answer. Bruce had noted that the only real threat in this bidding war was Ford Group.
In terms of status and capital, Ashton Group could not match their power. But this land was non-negotiable.
The assistant, wilting under Bruce’s cold stare, swallowed audibly and stammered, “A-All I know is that Miss Holland, the mysterious CEO of Ford Group, is attending in person…”
“Ha!” Bruce’s laugh was low and humorless, his lips curving into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. He raised his chin slightly, fingers moving with practiced ease as he buttoned his tailored jacket.
“Mysterious or not, we’ll see what kind of person she really is soon enough.”
Without waiting for a response, he swung the car door open and stepped out with an air of unshakable confidence.
The minutes ticked by, and Corrine arrived at the venue just in time, slipping in a mere five minutes before the bidding was set to commence. By then, most of the attendees had already taken their seats, the room abuzz with murmured conversations and curious glances aimed at Ford Group’s section. Preferring to avoid the spotlight, Corrine chose a seat in a shadowed, unassuming corner, her movements graceful but deliberate.
Today, every gaze seemed to linger on Ford Group’s reserved seating. All eyes were drawn to the possibility of glimpsing the elusive Miss Holland, the figure who had stirred so much intrigue.
As the attendees of the bidding event waited, the expected individual failed to appear. Growing impatient, they began muttering to each other.
“What do you think Miss Holland means by this? Has she abandoned the auction?”
“I wouldn’t jump to that conclusion. Word has it that Ford Group, under Miss Holland’s direction, is quite intent on securing the southern district land. Women seldom stand toe-to-toe with men in our field, right? Maybe the pressure was too much for Miss Holland.”
“Miss Holland was Carl Ford’s handpicked successor. She could live off her inheritance without lifting a finger, yet these people are making baseless assumptions,” a light-hearted voice remarked.
Zack Liam, adjusting his glasses, peered at the vacant chair meant for the CEO of Ford Group, then subtly glanced at Nate beside him
“I was eager to meet the Ford heiress today, but it seems that won’t be the case.”
“During your stay in Lyhaton, did you ever meet the Ford family’s heiress, Nate?” Moses Seymour asked, turning his gaze to Nate.
With a stoic expression, Nate simply said, “Yes, I have seen her.”
Curious, Moses leaned in.
“So? What does she look like?”
Catching the subtle change in Nate’s expression, Zack noticed the intrigue in his demeanor.
“Having second thoughts about the marriage arrangement with the Ford family?”
The purpose of Nate’s visit to Lyhaton was initially to dissolve his engagement. However, Zack observed a shift in Nate’s casual demeanor, hinting that he might be rethinking his earlier plans. Though Nate’s reasons remained a mystery, it was clear he was not rushing to sever the engagement.
Watching Nate closely, Moses, unable to elicit a reaction, exclaimed, “It seems even the unyielding can be swayed by beauty!”
As their discussion unfolded, the auctioneer on stage announced, “Let’s begin the auction for the land in the southern district, spanning 177,000 square feet. The opening bid is set at eighty million.”
“Ninety million!”
“One hundred and twenty million!”
“Two hundred million!”
The stakes for the Old District’s redevelopment were high, and the attendees were eager to seize this golden opportunity. With each new bid, the tension in the room grew, like the calm before a storm.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.