Pathological Possession: Even Death Will Not Part Us-Chapter 62: Cillian Grant Personally Admits to Marrying Her for an Alliance
"Are you using it?" Eleanor extended her index finger alone, gently touching the scabbed wound. "Iodine can easily stain, which is indeed unsightly, but if wrapped in gauze, it won’t affect your work."
Her skin was pale, fingers slender, joints delicate and graceful. The whiteness especially highlighted the pinkness of her nails. Her fingertips were soft and delicate, touching his wound like a butterfly gently kissing.
Cillian Grant’s eyes darkened, "No other reason?" His tone seemed casual, calm enough to discern a sense of soft concession.
"Yes." Eleanor turned her head to look at him. "I can list eight or ten reasons now, but I actually don’t want to say."
Cillian Grant’s eyes grew even darker.
The height difference was 23 centimeters, but he was sitting, Eleanor standing, their angles almost aligned, cheek to cheek.
Eleanor looked up, into his eyes that were as deep as the ocean. Lowering her gaze, her sights fell on his Adam’s apple, a protruding and sharp shape. The sharper he was, the more her heart spasmed.
After a long pause, he spoke hoarsely, "Was it prepared for me?"
Eleanor stiffened.
Actually, if she admitted it, the reason for buying iodine would be perfectly logical, but she was betting on Cillian Grant’s thousands of thoughts, constantly scrutinizing, deducing, and noticing subtle differences.
The day she was caught escaping, it would be unlikely she’d buy iodine to care for him.
But she couldn’t deny it either. Once denied, it would clearly show her ill intentions.
Eleanor simply remained silent.
Whether yes or no, she didn’t say, and instead created room to maneuver.
Cillian Grant waited a long time for an answer but didn’t press.
Eleanor brought out the iodine, opened it right in front of him, and soaked a cotton swab for disinfection.
"Did you buy the gauze too?"
Eleanor was honest, "Auntie King brought it."
It wasn’t just the gauze; there was also alcohol, red, and purple medicine. When she found them earlier, her intestines were filled with regret. If she’d known Auntie King was bringing them, she wouldn’t have left such a big flaw.
...
Until the bandage was complete, Cillian Grant watched her intently.
The atmosphere light at the bar was an orange ripple, mixed with bright sunlight, illuminating his profound brows with an indescribable seriousness.
This seriousness shed his harshness, sharpness, depth, like a beast retracting all its attack power, ineffable and incomprehensible.
Suddenly, Cillian Grant received a phone call.
Eleanor subtly exhaled a breath, easing the suffocating pain in her chest.
On the other end of the phone was an extremely agitated voice, Eleanor recognized it as Liam Xavier.
"What’s going on over there? Why are you dead set against The Voss Family? Forced Voss to connect with my third uncle, messing with me?"
Eleanor didn’t have time to listen further as Cillian Grant took his phone to the study.
The man on the phone, Liam Xavier, had been overwhelmed these past few days, his mental state extremely overworked, forgiving all each night before bed, and ready to conquer the world upon waking.
But the situation was like a bouncing ball that had hit bottom, as brilliant as he had been, now was as dire as it was inhuman.
He could only blame others first, play the victim.
"Now my third uncle has risen, The Voss Family invested, The Lewis Family gave the green light, there’s money and people. The joint directors bypassed me, convened a board meeting. The meeting content was sent to all The Xavier Group employees, discussing how to remove me as CEO."
Cillian Grant, silent, opened his computer to read the latest reports in his inbox. The more he read, the deeper his frown, the colder his expression.
Liam Xavier, "Vice Director Grant, you’re currently the Regent King overseeing state affairs. I’m just a struggling Crown Prince, so, please, come out and fix things? Can’t your break wait until this is over?"
"A few days ago, I left you strategic guidelines, how are you following them, still making such significant mistakes?" Cillian Grant replied to a few emails, "Is it because your surname is Xavier, not Lewis? Is that why you’re even worse than The Dunce, a useless waste?"
Upon hearing his voice, Liam Xavier’s arrogance faded as guilt emerged, "That’s too much, people are born different, and you’re not Augustus either. Now that we’re here, give us direction."
Cillian Grant chuckled, "Then proceed as originally planned. Deal with the unwanted child, stabilize the board first, and wait for the funds to be in place before overturning the situation."
Liam Xavier felt he was being given false hopes, "When will those funds be in place?"
"After she’s married."
Outside, Eleanor’s heart stalled, her hand hanging by her side trembled uncontrollably. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂
She hadn’t intended to eavesdrop on Cillian Grant’s call, went to the master bedroom planning to see what Damon Sharp had brought with the batch of professional attire, curious about what mischief they were up to.
Only upon reaching the dressing room did she discover that the black and white conservative styles prepared for her had been replaced entirely by bright and flashy debutante short skirts, and fur coats.
The shoes were also replaced, colorful high heels crowded the shoe cabinet, from high to low, from thick to thin heels, and not a pair of flats could be found.
Eleanor couldn’t understand why Cillian Grant was doing this, couldn’t resist and came over to find him.
She ended up overhearing this sentence.
Regarding Liam Xavier’s child problem, she’d been mentally prepared, but felt a shared sense of catastrophic loss, yet most feared Cillian Grant’s latter sentence.
What could be more certain than hearing it personally confirmed?
Suddenly everything became clear.
The escape was easily overlooked, the generous gift of a mansion, then the inexplicable tenderness just now were indulgences before sending her off to an arranged marriage.
Purposely asking Auntie King to come and instruct her to be energetic and have her wear bright and beautiful clothes was considering the appearance.
After all, in her current rustic mountain widow look, she’d only disgust the arranged marriage partner.
But why would he want her to leave The Grant Family?
Eleanor’s mind was a chaotic mess of straw, she stepped forward and then withdrew.
Cillian Grant responded to the phone and glanced at the doorway.
Liam Xavier continued talking smoothly, "With your sister getting married, should I send a grand gift to thank her for paving the way for us?"
"Just handle your own affairs properly, that will be the grand gift."
Eleanor couldn’t listen anymore.
No matter her situation in The Grant Family, whether Cillian Grant acknowledged her or not, to outsiders, Cillian Grant had two sisters now.
And the marriage of his biological sister, Phoebe Grant, was a great event for The Sinclair and Grant families, a grand alliance decided a decade ago, irrelevant to The Xavier Family.
Given the phrase "pave the way," Liam Xavier’s words were tantamount to naming Eleanor.
She turned to leave but hesitated, not knowing where to go.
The grand apartment covered six hundred thirty square meters, five rooms, two master bedrooms, two studies, a tea room, reception room, spa room, gym, and a home theater room.
Legally, she was the owner of all this, spatially, any corner could comfortably accommodate her.
Yet Eleanor felt she had no place to stand.
It felt like a Mount Pyralia waiting to explode. If she stayed, delayed her escape even slightly, she’d be melted by the flowing lava until nothing remained.
Auntie King, having been meaningfully spoken to by Damon Sharp, returned and paused as she opened the door to a maid’s room.
Eleanor sat blankly at the end of her bed, hands on her knees trembling densely.
"What’s wrong?" Auntie King closed the door with her backhand, "Did he bully you?"
Eleanor bowed her head, her expression unseen, "Auntie King, please tell Mrs. Grant I’m here."
