Bride of Retribution: Aloof Billionaire's Dominant Game-Chapter 209 - 136 Can you handle some proper business?_2

Don’t scare yourself and lose your composure.

Looking at Charlotte Miller’s gentle smile, it’s as enchanting as white pear blossoms blooming on the branches, yet such a smile feels like a sharp knife, piercing deeply into his chest. With every glance she gives, that knife seems to twist around, the sharp blade almost tearing him apart, and the pain erupts forcefully, making even breathing feel difficult...

She lied to him, meeting another man behind his back. Luna Miller’s words always sounded like a curse, saying Charlotte is attracting all kinds of suitors. Could the fortune teller’s words really come true?

"Do you want to eat something else?" Atlas Hallow’s voice remained as pleasant as ever, almost hypnotic, and his lips were continuously upturned, making Charlotte Miller feel none of his anger. Only when gazing into his deep, dark eyes did she feel like she was staring into an endless cold pool.

"I’ll accompany you, you can eat whatever you want." Charlotte Miller guiltily avoided Atlas Hallow’s focused gaze, failing to notice the gray clouds that seemed to spread in his eyes at that moment, covering everything.

How dare this woman lie to him?

Atlas Hallow didn’t know how to alleviate the pain in his heart. He no longer wanted to question Charlotte Miller, fearing she might become wary of him.

When did he become so cowardly?

Looking at Charlotte’s captivatingly beautiful face, he unexpectedly backed down, unwilling to pursue it further, not wanting any unpleasant events to occur between them.

But by retreating like this, would it make her tell him the truth in the future?

In the end, he didn’t eat anything, just drove back to the company.

"Not hungry? Go up first, I’ll go to the restaurant to get you something to eat." Charlotte Miller noticed Atlas seemed to lack appetite. Was he too busy recently? Not even properly having lunch.

"Mmm..." Atlas held Luna’s hand as they went into the elevator; Charlotte got off at the executive dining area on the 37th floor, while Atlas went straight to his office at the top floor.

"You can’t even find Ella Johnson, what a failure. Can you handle some serious HR matters?" Atlas’s face turned exceedingly dark as he spoke on the phone, his voice cold and daunting.

"No." Fifth Young Master wrapped in a soft fur blanket, lazily lay in the courtyard like a cat, moving wherever the sun shined. The copper fire bowl was always burning vigorously, and all the flower racks in the corridor were filled with golden oranges and unripe green-yellow pineapples. These fruits weren’t eaten by anyone, just left there to release their fragrance, driving away the smell of charcoal.

Fifth Young Master disliked any chemical agents, not even the so-called natural air fresheners. Fresh fruits were continually replaced, because since his mood soured a few days ago, he hadn’t shown a good face.

"Send some people to keep an eye on Jack Smith for me." Atlas sat down, his gaze dark as he looked outside, the entire city beneath him, he could overlook everything but couldn’t see through her heart.

If he couldn’t move Charlotte, could he not move against Jack Smith?

"I can’t even handle HR matters anymore, so take care of it yourself, it’s not like you’re short of people." Fifth Young Master’s mood was already foul, and Atlas’s tone made him even more upset, so he coldly finished speaking and hung up the phone.

The housekeeper, standing nearby, broke into a cold sweat, nervously placing the newly simmered bird’s nest next to Fifth Young Master; the old matriarch insisted on a bowl a day without fail, yet their master refused to eat. What’s to be done?

"Take it away..." Fifth Young Master wrinkled his nose, the scent spreading in the air making him feel nauseous, he pulled the fur blanket up and closed his eyes, remaining still.

From afar, one could see flowers and fruits in the courtyard, the glowing red copper stove, intricately patterned doors and windows, and the elegant young man on the chaise lounge, like a painting, only the housekeeper knew this seemingly peaceful scene wouldn’t last much longer.

Their master’s appetite diminished, eating less and less, and the old matriarch couldn’t hold back any longer.

For the first time in many years, it became apparent how heavy Fifth Young Master’s heart was, making the old matriarch very distressed.

She had just called to inquire, and he could only answer truthfully: just a couple of spoonfuls of congee this morning, a bit of soup at noon, he’s visibly losing weight, everyone in the household is anxious.

The cooks in the kitchen were pulling their hair out in worry, but no matter how much they made, it was futile, as Fifth Young Master just wouldn’t eat.

When the housekeeper was nearly in tears, a call came in. After listening to it, he quickly bowed and gently reported to Fifth Young Master: "Fifth Young Master, I heard Master Wilson has returned from leave and is back at work, would you like him to come over to help you relax, to feel a bit more comfortable?"

It was indeed strange; the housekeeper heard Cecilia Wilson was preparing to resign after the New Year, so why did she suddenly return?

But these weren’t his concerns, the main thing was ensuring Fifth Young Master was in a good mood.

The eyes of the person half-closed suddenly opened when hearing this, batting eyelashes longer than a girl’s, showing disbelief: "Are you saying Cecilia is back?"

"Yes, it seems she returned from leave." The housekeeper watched as Fifth Young Master’s brow slowly relaxed and even saw a hint of childlike delight in his eyes.

"Then send someone to pick her up." Fifth Young Master sat up, looking at the robes sewn with light silk, though more precious than any suit, he still decided to change, fearing Cecilia, not being from Foster Manor, would think he was old-fashioned or stuffy if he was always seen in this.

"Yes, Fifth Young Master." The housekeeper quickly instructed the driver to pick her up and followed Fifth Young Master upstairs.

In the dressing room, he found a new black turtleneck sweater, a pair of white trousers, instantly transforming into a handsome young man straight out of a fashion magazine.

Perhaps due to the bird’s nest and those broths, or less running about outside, Fifth Young Master’s skin was better than many girls’, especially noticeable in black clothes.

"Prepare more for dinner; I’ll have Cecilia stay for a meal." Fifth Young Master’s voice began to carry a joyful tone, light as the aromas floating in the air.

"Yes, Fifth Young Master." Noting it was only two in the afternoon, yet already thinking about dinner? The housekeeper felt both happy and anxious.

After all, Cecilia’s return seemed to bring some joy back to Fifth Young Master, but what would people outside think?

Those weren’t his concerns, the priority was quickly instructing the kitchen to prepare, after days of little food, to open dinner early and have Fifth Young Master eat more, making up for what was missed.

After changing clothes and descending the stairs, even Fifth Young Master was unaware of his excitement, like flickering flames slowly kindling within, burning stronger than the fire in the copper bowl...