Prosperous Marriage: Married to My Brother-in-law-Chapter 41: The Sensation of a Net_1
Chapter 41: Chapter 41: The Sensation of a Net_1
She had married a book. A book she believed she had thoroughly explored and understood, when in reality, she hadn’t comprehended even a single page.
Sitting back down on the sofa, Julia Bluen picked up the bag of pistachios Glades Horne had opened and slowly began to eat them.
The pistachios tasted good; Julia felt they possessed a subtle magic, slowly consuming her heart.
After eating a few, she gently placed the bag back on the coffee table, leaned into the sofa, and observed Glades Horne with bright, almond-shaped eyes, seeing him as if for the first time.
Glades Horne had told her to wait half an hour, but there was no need; after just fifteen minutes, he finished his work.
Raising his eyes inadvertently, he met his wife’s direct, appraising gaze. His eyes crinkled slightly, and a subtle smile touched his lips. He stood up, walked over to Julia in a few steps, bent down slightly, leaned in, and asked teasingly, "Seen enough? Want me to take off my clothes?"
"Fox!"
Julia tossed two words at him, heavy with meaning.
Glades Horne laughed again. Julia remembered that in the past, this man often laughed when they were together, yet the outside world considered him stern and humorless.
He pulled her up from the sofa and into his arms, leading her outside. Julia’s 170-centimeter height, paired with his nearly 190 centimeters, was a good match. Holding her close like this, he felt she was like a small, delicate bird nestled against him.
And he discovered he very much liked the sensation of her, like a small bird, nestled against his solid chest.
After dinner at the Emperor Hotel, Glades Horne instructed two bodyguards to drive Julia’s Twitter car back to the Bluen family home. He then drove his own car, with Julia beside him, speeding through the city’s night streets.
It was a rare pleasure that Julia, like him, also loved the exhilaration of speed.
The distinguished Rolls-Royce sped through several bustling main streets before heading towards the luxurious Courtyard Garden estate.
The car entered Courtyard Garden, navigating the labyrinthine cement paths before finally arriving at the Bluen family villa.
A red Audi was parked in front of the Bluen family villa. A tall man in a formal suit stood with his back to the car, facing the villa.
At the sound of the car, he turned his head.
It was James Horne!
Seeing Glades Horne’s car, James Horne’s expression flickered momentarily before he quickly composed himself. He walked around his car and approached the Rolls-Royce.
Inside, Glades Horne and Julia Bluen both saw him. Glades’s expression remained as impassive as ever, showing no surprise, though his gaze deepened slightly. Julia, however, muttered in confusion, "Why is he here?"
She recalled that her relationship with James was similar to hers with Adele Horne: they had superficial interactions but no real connection.
"Brother." James came forward and opened the car door for Glades, then stood by the open door, waiting for him to alight. Glades, however, did not get out. Instead, he turned his head to look out, his frosty, piercing gaze locking onto the face that so closely resembled his own. His lips twitched almost imperceptibly before he asked in a deep voice, "What are you doing here?"
James’s gaze swept past Glades to land on Julia, who was seated beside him. Her bright, almond-shaped eyes blinked in bewilderment as she met his gaze. After a single, fleeting look, James averted his eyes and focused again on his elder brother. Though James’s expression was profound and inscrutable, Julia sensed a hint of hostility in that brief glance—less overt than Adele’s, yet palpable and utterly unprovoked.
"Brother, I have something to discuss with you," James said, not elaborating, his gaze fixed on Glades.
Glades pursed his lips, silent. Then, turning his head, he reached out and pulled the car door shut.
WHOOSH. The car started moving.
A Bluen family servant, having heard the car, had already hurried out to open the villa gates.
The Rolls-Royce swept past the red Audi and into the Bluen villa grounds, leaving James standing outside.
The servant recognized James and approached him, asking amicably, "Young Master James, would you like to come in and sit for a while?"
James’s expression remained impassive, betraying no anger or any other emotion. His gaze followed them towards the villa for a minute. He watched as his brother and Julia exited the car. His brother didn’t spare him a second glance, pulling Julia, who kept looking back, into the house. He finally averted his gaze and said in a low, detached voice, "No, thank you."
After saying that, he turned and walked back to his red Audi, sat in the driver’s seat, and without giving the Bluen family villa another look, drove away.
He and Glades were brothers, but not of the same mother. Glades’s treatment of him was neither particularly good nor bad, yet James had always admired his elder brother. In James’s eyes, Glades was his role model.
When he wanted to find Glades, he knew calling was futile; his elder brother’s temperament was unpredictable. Contact at the Horne family mansion was minimal, especially at night, with his stepmother constantly watching him as if he were a thief. Sometimes, he would chat with his father after dinner before leaving the main villa. He preferred living alone to returning to his mother’s apartment, because every time he went back, his mother would try to persuade him to find ways to wrest some of the Horne family assets from Glades. He was tired of it all. His status as an illegitimate son made his position in the Horne family perfectly clear, and he had no desire to touch the family’s assets, especially since his mother had signed an agreement with Glades’s mother back then. Therefore, if he wanted to be sure of finding Glades, his only option was to wait at the Bluen family home.
Clearly, his brother didn’t want him there now, so he couldn’t very well insist on staying.
Driving to an intersection, he turned the steering wheel, not heading out of Courtyard Garden but in another direction.
About three minutes later, he stopped the car, got out, and leaned against it, watching the intersection.
His expression suggested he was waiting for something.
Half an hour passed with no sign of who or what he was waiting for. He then took out a pack of cigarettes, drew one out, lit it, and began to smoke.
He lost count of how many cigarettes he smoked before he finally saw the familiar Rolls-Royce heading towards the main gate of the estate.
Extinguishing the half-finished cigarette in his hand—who knew which number it was—James took out his phone, dialed a string of numbers, and waited for the call to connect.
The phone rang for a full minute before a clear voice answered from the other end: "Hello, who are you trying to reach?"
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