Chapter 414: Chapter 411: A Tramp Like You
At that moment, Jean Grant didn’t know how to explain herself. She really had forgotten she’d ever said that.
"I... I..." She lowered her head. "Nicholas, I suddenly changed my mind. I want to wait a little longer before having children..."
His expression darkened, and he walked away without another word.
Sharon Ainsworth sneered. "Go home and ask my brother for a divorce. Stop embarrassing the Ainsworth family. If you weren’t a daughter of the Grant family, if you weren’t Quentin Grant’s sister, do you think a slut like you could have ever married a man like my brother?"
Jean Grant slapped her across the face, catching Sharon completely off guard.
"Don’t talk about ’if I weren’t.’ The fact is, I *am* a daughter of the Grant family and Quentin Grant’s sister. And you? You just dared to hit me? I’m not someone you can afford to mess with. I won’t divorce your brother." After speaking, she clutched her stomach and carefully walked back.
Sharon Ainsworth glared at the back of her head, forcing a few words through gritted teeth. "You bitch!"
When Jean Grant got home, she found that Nicholas Ainsworth hadn’t returned.
Entering the bedroom, she reached out and flicked on the light.
Staring at the empty room, a voice screamed in her mind.
It was telling her she was terrified.
Afraid her last failed marriage was about to repeat itself.
They had only been married for a few days, but this fear was like a cobra, constantly watching her every move.
Jean Grant lay there, pulled the covers over her head, and suddenly burst into loud sobs.
’I don’t regret it. It’s better to kill a hundred innocents than to give even a one-in-a-million chance of giving birth to Marlon Marshall’s child.’
Then she threw the covers off, took out her phone, and dialed Nicholas Ainsworth’s number.
She called again and again, but no one answered.
Refusing to give up, she tried again. Still no answer.
Just as she was too exhausted to dial anymore, the door opened.
He stood in the doorway. "I was in the room across the hall. What are you calling for?"
Jean Grant got out of bed, ran to him, and threw her arms around him. "Nicholas, please forgive me this one time, okay? I wasn’t thinking straight. It was my fault. I’ll do anything you ask, I promise."
He looked down, raised a hand, and stroked her face. "Really?"
Jean Grant nodded. Nicholas Ainsworth held her and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Jean, my company has a small problem. I really need your help."
"What kind of problem? How can I help?"
He said lightly, "There’s a plot of land in the West District slated for a new hospital. The land is going up for public bidding in a few days. Honestly, I’m not confident. Your brother’s company has always been stronger than mine by a wide margin. But even with their strength, they still have a target bid. I don’t know what your brother’s target is."
Upon hearing this, Jean Grant said, "Then I’ll just ask him."
"If you ask him like that, won’t you be telling him directly that I put you up to it?"
Jean Grant nodded. "You’re right. So what should I do?"
He looked at her seriously. "Go to your brother’s company, get into his office, and look for the final approved bid number. It should be in a drawer."
Jean Grant nodded. "Okay, I’ll go check tomorrow."
He suddenly smiled and kissed her on the lips. "If you can do this for me, I’ll forgive you for the abortion."
Jean Grant’s face lit up, and she nodded repeatedly. "It’s just looking at a number, right? I can do that."
"The bidding is in three days. You only have two days."
She didn’t think this was a problem at all. "I’ll go look tomorrow. Getting into my brother’s office is a piece of cake."
He held her as they lay down. "Go to sleep."
Cuddled in Nicholas Ainsworth’s arms, Jean Grant felt that the matter was settled.
But she didn’t know that to a man, getting rid of his child without his knowledge was no different from betrayal.
Deep down, it creates a knot of resentment that grows and grows until it explodes.
Nora Ainsworth had a kissing scene to film today.
This was something Quentin Grant would not allow.
He had specifically emphasized that they must use camera angles to fake it.
Nora Ainsworth had happily agreed to fake the kiss.
But clearly, the great President Grant wasn’t reassured.
So, he had come along to the set to supervise in person.
Vincent, the male lead of the film, came over to greet him.
"Hello." He extended his hand with a smile.
Quentin Grant obviously did not extend his own hand, spitting out a single word. "Hello."
Vincent looked embarrassed. Nora Ainsworth was a little awkward and shot Quentin a look, but it had no effect.
Without much more conversation, the male and female leads began the official shoot.
The crew was ready. The two actors said their lines, and when it came to the kiss, Quentin Grant’s eyes were fixed on the shrinking distance between them. He was starting to get angry, but he watched until the end and saw for himself that they were indeed faking it with the camera angle.
When Nora Ainsworth turned to look at the playback, she felt you could tell at a glance that it was a fake kiss.
She walked over to Quentin Grant. "The take was no good."
Quentin Grant looked at her. "You want to do a real kiss?"
Nora Ainsworth nodded.
"Fine." He agreed readily, which surprised Nora.
"I’ll graciously step in as the male lead’s stand-in."
Nora Ainsworth burst out laughing. "President Grant acting as a stand-in? If word gets out, won’t people look down on you?"
"If you don’t want people to look down on me, then we’ll stick to faking it. And after this movie is done, I won’t give you another chance to act again."
"But... I like it..."
"You can act with me. We can do it at home... role-playing..."
Nora Ainsworth: "..."
And so, the scene was shot again. Of course, they still faked the kiss, but this time, you couldn’t tell.
After filming, Nora Ainsworth headed to the dressing room to remove her makeup. Before she got there, she ran into an old acquaintance, Madam Shaw.
"Nora Ainsworth?"
"Mm-hmm, that’s me." Nora Ainsworth smiled confidently. "Madam Shaw, what a coincidence. Are you filming here too?"
Madam Shaw puffed out her chest and lifted her chin. "Of course. You’re just shooting a scene, and President Grant still follows you around. You’re both adults, how can you still be so clingy?"
Her tone no longer held its previous blatant harshness; her words were much more reserved.
Nora Ainsworth smiled. "Can’t be helped. He just loves to follow me around. What can I do?"
Quentin Grant played along perfectly. "Exactly. Darling, hurry up and get your makeup off. It’s time to go pick up our two little treasures."
The two left Madam Shaw’s sight, hand in hand.
Leaving her alone to stare after them, lamenting how unfair life was.
After removing her makeup, Nora Ainsworth and Quentin Grant drove to the kindergarten.
They happened to see their two little treasures talking with Ethan Ellsworth and Chloe Marshall, who were also there to pick up their child.
"My son is just so well-behaved."
Nora Ainsworth got out of the car and walked over. "Chloe."
"Nora, I was just about to call you. I can’t believe I ran into you here."
"What’s up?"
"Ethan, my parents, and I have all talked it over. We’re getting married next Saturday."
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