Sweet Wife So Charming: CEO: Hold Back Your Heart-Chapter 423: Futile Efforts

"I know," Moira Young muttered softly.

Adrian Grant exhaled deeply, relieved that he wasn’t performing a monologue: "Don’t be mad anymore. I mean, don’t be mad at me first. Come on, if you stay under the blanket too long, you’ll suffocate. The hot cocoa I made for you is getting cold. It’s New Year; we can’t be so gloomy."

As he spoke, he pulled Moira Young up, got up, and took the hot cocoa from the table, placing it in her hand.

Moira Young climbed out of bed, took a sip of the hot cocoa, put the cup back on the table, and headed straight for the door.

"Where are you going, Moira?" Adrian Grant asked urgently.

Without replying or stopping, Moira Young walked straight downstairs after opening the door, glanced coolly at Julian Sinclair sitting on the sofa, quickly opened the front door, and walked out.

The two men behind were taken aback and hurriedly followed.

"Moira, stop being childish," Julian Sinclair blocked her path, frowning.

Moira Young lowered her gaze, smirked disdainfully, turned away and pressed the elevator’s down button, standing there rigidly, not deigning to give Julian a glance.

Adrian Grant stepped in to mediate: "Do you feel trapped at home? How about I take you out for a spin?" He gave Julian Sinclair a nudge, winked to reassure him there was no need to worry since he’d accompany her.

Julian Sinclair’s brow remained furrowed, his face ashen, lips tightly pursed, staring intensely at Moira Young.

"Ding." The elevator arrived.

Moira Young moved to step in, only to see a pair of strong arms blocking her way.

She glanced over indifferently, recalling Adrian Grant’s flowery words from before, icy-faced and scornful: "Well, President Sinclair, still eager to bully people?"

Julian Sinclair was struck dumb, the air around him dropping several degrees, attempting to speak but Adrian Grant pulled him away.

"Alright, alright, it’s a holiday, Julian, go back, keep an eye on the decorations, don’t slack off. I’ll accompany Moira out for a walk." Seeing them still at an impasse, he patted Julian’s arm blocking the elevator, "You better move, others might complain, besides don’t delay our stroll."

Lips tightly drawn, arms slackening: "Did you take your phone?"

Adrian Grant poked at Moira Young’s coat hem, glanced around, continuing to joke: "I’ll go grab it, I’ll go grab it, wait for me, Moira, I’ll be quick."

With that, Adrian Grant ran back, as the elevator doors began closing, leaving the stairwell silent and oppressive.

"Moira." Julian Sinclair’s lips twitched, speaking softly, seeing the woman with her back to him, he chuckled wryly and continued: "What would you like for lunch?"

The voice echoed gently in the stairwell, deep and laced with tenderness.

Moira Young looked indifferent, feeling there was nothing to say to Julian, her mouth set in a tight line.

Silently, a hand cautiously and hopefully reached towards Moira Young’s shoulder.

"Don’t touch me." A cool voice rang out angrily.

The slender, well-jointed hand froze in mid-air, seeming somewhat aggrieved, fingers slowly retracting.

Outside the stairwell window, winter sunlight streamed in, Julian Sinclair watched the halo surrounding the woman in front of him, sighing inwardly.

"Here I come." Adrian Grant dashed over with a small bag, "Moira, take it, let’s go," he said while pressing the elevator button.

Moira Young took the bag, said softly, "Thank you," and turned towards the elevator doors.

Soon, the elevator arrived, and the two stepped inside.

Julian Sinclair stood to the side, expressionless, catching Adrian’s signal, before looking at Moira Young, until the elevator door slowly closed.

He stood there for a while, then turned back.

"Moira, where are we going?" Adrian Grant asked, moving closer to Moira Young in the elevator.

Moira Young looked over: "Adrian, you don’t need to accompany me."

"How about going to the mall, I’ll go clothes shopping with you?" Adrian Grant spoke with a pained face but still offered.

Moira Young shook her head: "Don’t worry, I’m just taking a walk."

While speaking, the elevator stopped on the first floor, Moira Young walked straight out.

"Moira, don’t walk so fast, it’s icy in winter, the ground is slippery."

Moira Young glanced at the dry, spotless floor, rolling her eyes silently, before turning and stopping, causing Adrian Grant to nearly collide with her.

Startled, he complained: "Moira, you scared me."

The atmosphere eased somewhat with a laugh.

With a smile, Moira said: "Adrian, you should go back."

"I can’t do that, I’ve promised someone I’ll stay."

"But we’re not involved anymore," Moira Young said flatly, without a ripple of emotion.

"I don’t care, I have to stay with you today," Adrian Grant insisted shamelessly.

Moira Young frowned, the smile vanishing, saying seriously: "Adrian, I just want to be alone now. I could have stayed home. But since you all came, it’s whatever. But I want to walk, alone, Adrian, I’m not the little girl anymore who needed comforting when upset. You get it?"

She looked steadily at Adrian Grant, then turned to leave.

The man behind her hesitated momentarily before stepping back, watching her departing figure, then glanced up at Moira Young’s home: "Darn, being the mediator is tough." Shaking his head, he returned to the hallway.

Moira Young draped a hand over her bag, lowered her head slightly, walking aimlessly forward.

The sunlight warmed her head, smelling the sharp scent of snowflakes, her fingers spread lightly shielding her eyes, glimpses of golden light dancing with each step.

"Tap, tap, tap." A rush of footsteps approached, Moira Young felt resigned, turned around, "Adrian...mmph."

Someone behind her covered Moira Young’s mouth, holding her other arm tightly against her chest, face filled with malice.

"Heh, Moira Young."

Being seized, Moira Young struggled desperately, fingers gripping the back of the captor’s hand, but still she couldn’t break free. Instead, her mouth was covered even more tightly, hearing the voice from behind, she froze for a moment.

A woman?

"Moira Young, what a surprise, you’re in my hands at last. Hahaha, you wretch." The person spoke cruelly, kicking the back of Moira Young’s knee, unable to withstand the blow, Moira fell to the ground.

"Mmm...let...go...of...me..." Ignoring the pain in her knees, she shook her head, trying to escape.

Unexpectedly, the woman slapped the back of Moira Young’s head, then released her grip and grabbed Moira’s neck, dragging her away.

Her mouth and nose covered, neck squeezed tightly, Moira Young’s face flushed, legs scrabbling desperately on the ground, trying to catch something, hands frantically hitting the arms confining her, all in vain.