Mr. CEO, You Look Strangely Familiar-Chapter 41: Scoundrel

Herman Hawthorne hummed. "Well, you’ve held her anyway. She’s in 208 right now. If you’re a little late, she might run off. This is a good opportunity. I told her I wasn’t going to make it and to wait for me at the hotel. She mentioned wanting to apologize to me."

"The hotel?" Quentin Grant repeated the word, then suddenly broke into a wicked grin. "You think she’d dare go?"

Herman Hawthorne gave a rare thumbs-up. "Spoken like a true general, even after so long off the battlefield. You’ve still got it. Quentin, this girl is quite a catch. I have to hand it to you. But... are you really just playing around with her?"

Quentin Grant smiled faintly. "You don’t really think I’d fall in love with her, do you? Love... that’s not a game I want to play a second time."

With that, he strode off toward the elevator.

*

Sharon Ainsworth’s attention was fixed entirely on him, so when she saw him head upstairs, she made a snap decision and followed.

Quentin Grant walked ahead, then deliberately slowed his pace. Just as he’d expected, he heard the sound of high heels behind him. Without even looking back, he stopped at the door to room 209, pulled out a key, and let himself in.

Then, standing by the wall adjoining room 208, he pressed a spot, and a small door opened.

Nora Ainsworth, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, shot up in fright.

Her heart pounded in her chest. As she stared at the silhouette in the darkness, she somehow just knew—the person walking toward her was Quentin Grant.

"You—"

Quentin Grant played along. "It’s me. We haven’t seen each other in a few days. Did you miss me?"

Nora Ainsworth instinctively shot back, "Of course not!"

Quentin Grant’s tone was casual. "I bestow this honor upon you, and you complain? I’ve been abstinent for a long time. You’re the one who made me want a girlfriend again, so you have to take responsibility for it."

Nora Ainsworth was speechless. No matter how she looked at it, he made it sound like she was the one at fault.

After holding it in for a long time, she finally managed to squeeze out a single word: "Shameless!"

A smile played on Quentin Grant’s lips as he continued, "How’s the piano playing coming along?"

Nora Ainsworth answered honestly, "I can play a few pieces, but I haven’t reached the standard you’re talking about."

"Very good. Practice the remaining pieces."

Nora Ainsworth scoffed softly and couldn’t resist asking, "There’s something I don’t understand. Can you answer a question for me?"

In the darkness, she could feel the chill in his gaze.

"If you’re asking about Sharon Ainsworth’s marriage, I can tell you this: stay out of it. It’s none of your business. You really are too kind. Have you forgotten she’s the one who stabbed you in the back?"

"I haven’t forgotten. I just—"

"And even if you knew, what could you change? Little girl, you can’t even save yourself. Who do you think you can save? If this is a game, we should play it properly. Everyone stays in their designated spot, and no one tries to cross any lines. Wouldn’t that be for the best?" His tone was nonchalant, as if he were discussing something utterly trivial.

Nora Ainsworth closed her eyes to avoid his gaze. "If that’s how it is, then I want to go back to my place, too."

Feigning ignorance, he said, "That day will come. I’m just afraid that when it does, you’ll no longer want to leave."

She opened her eyes and said firmly, "That won’t happen. I’ve always known exactly what I want."

A flicker of mockery flashed in his eyes. "Don’t think of yourself as a flower that never wilts. One day, I’ll grow tired of looking at you."

Nora Ainsworth’s anger flared. She hated it when he said things like that. "I’m going back."