Wrong Flirt, Right Trouble: His Uncle Pulls Me Close

Chapter 193: Chapter 193: I Don’t Want Money, I Want You

The butler was about to call Quentin Blackwood, but Ivy Sherwood saw him and stopped him.

"Don’t bother him. I’ll just wait here."

’What if Quentin Blackwood was busy with something important? It wouldn’t be good for me to disturb him.’

Ivy Sherwood sat down in the sitting room. Spotting a few books on a nearby shelf, she walked over and began to flip through them.

They were books about future technologies, likely detailing how the DG Group had once again developed designs to benefit humanity, pushing technological civilization a great leap forward.

Although Ivy Sherwood didn’t fully understand the contents, she found it all incredibly impressive.

The DG Group had always been at the forefront of the nation’s economy. And not just the economy—the DG Group had made immense contributions in fields ranging from future technology and lifestyle advancements to medical research.

’The DG Group really is incredible.’ The awe for these inventions was palpable between the lines.

The other two books were about the same thing. Ivy Sherwood read them more closely and found them quite interesting.

Ivy Sherwood had no idea when Quentin Blackwood returned. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been reading when a voice came from behind her. "Interested in technology?"

Ivy Sherwood finally looked back to find Quentin Blackwood standing there. She had no idea when he’d come in.

He was still in his well-tailored suit, though his face was etched with some fatigue, likely from a long day at work.

"I was just browsing," Ivy Sherwood said, putting the book back.

’Even if I wanted to study this, I don’t have time lately. There’s too much I need to learn. If I have a chance in the future, I’ll try to look into it.’

"When did you get here? Why didn’t the butler call me?"

The butler was standing just behind Quentin Blackwood, and Ivy Sherwood quickly spoke up. "I told him not to. I knew you must be busy, and I didn’t want to disturb you."

Quentin Blackwood nodded. "Have you eaten?"

"I have. Nina and I went out for barbecue."

"Then have a little more with me." With that, Quentin Blackwood turned and left the sitting room.

Ivy Sherwood followed him to the dining room.

A meal prepared by the staff was already on the dining table. It was simple fare—just some congee and side dishes.

Ivy Sherwood sat next to Quentin Blackwood and glanced at the food. "So this is what a tycoon eats."

"And in your eyes, what should a tycoon be eating?"

"Well... anything they want, of course. Whatever they like." Ivy Sherwood just felt that his meal was remarkably simple.

"Is that so? Now that you mention it, I agree this isn’t quite appropriate. But it’s late, and I’m not a ruthless capitalist who’d wake someone up to cook in the middle of the night. So, you can go make a meal fit for a tycoon."

"Fine." ’This could pave the way for returning his gift later,’ Ivy thought. She decided to humor the man first, at least put him in a better mood so he wouldn’t chew her out so badly later.

"Where’s the kitchen?" Ivy Sherwood had never been in the kitchen here.

Quentin Blackwood pointed. "Over there."

The kitchen in a mansion was, as expected, massive. Ivy Sherwood felt it was larger than her entire apartment. ’You could probably throw a party for dozens of people in here and it wouldn’t even feel crowded.’

She opened the refrigerator and found it was stocked with anything one could possibly want.

’But it’s already very late, and Quentin has a weak stomach, so making something too greasy would be hard to digest.’

Spotting some noodles, she decided to make him a bowl of noodles with shredded pork and egg.

Ivy Sherwood deftly took out the shredded pork and eggs, then quickly prepped all the ingredients.

She then lit the stove, fried an egg, and tossed the shredded pork into the wok to stir-fry. The glistening pork already looked appetizing.

Soon, a bowl of fragrant noodles was ready. Ivy Sherwood brought it out and placed it in front of Quentin Blackwood. "I didn’t make a lot. It’s not good to eat too much at night."

Quentin Blackwood picked up his chopsticks and was immediately struck by the fragrant aroma.

He had tasted Ivy Sherwood’s cooking before. It was, without a doubt, exceptional.

Quentin Blackwood wasn’t particularly passionate about food. Even with dishes from Michelin-starred chefs, he would usually only have a few bites.

But this bowl of noodles in front of him, its aroma alone, made his appetite surge.

Picking up his chopsticks, Quentin Blackwood lifted a mouthful of noodles to his lips.

The flavor was rich and fragrant, exploding over his taste buds. It was clearly just a simple bowl of noodles, yet Quentin Blackwood felt it was far more delicious than meals from restaurants that cost tens of thousands per person.

Soon, the bowl of noodles was empty. Ivy Sherwood also poured Quentin Blackwood a glass of water.

Ivy Sherwood was about to clear the dishes, but Quentin Blackwood stopped her. "Leave it. Someone will clean it tomorrow."

Ivy Sherwood walked up behind Quentin Blackwood again. "President Blackwood, you work so hard, you must be exhausted. How about I give you a massage?"

As she spoke, Ivy Sherwood placed her hands on Quentin Blackwood’s shoulders and began to rub them.

Quentin Blackwood’s eyes were clear. ’Ivy isn’t this kind of person. To be so attentive for no reason... she must be up to something.’

Quentin Blackwood then spoke. "Alright, out with it. What did you come to see me for so late at night?"

Hearing the sound of his voice, Ivy Sherwood figured he was in a decent mood and not the least bit upset.

"Uncle, the Blackwood Group shares... are you really just giving them to me like that?"

The corner of Quentin Blackwood’s mouth twitched. ’I knew it was about the shares.’

"They’re your shares now. Whether you want to transfer or sell them has nothing to do with me. Zane Linton will expedite the process. It should be done in the next day or two."

Share transfers usually take a long time, sometimes as long as six months.

But with Zane Linton overseeing it and pulling a few strings, it could be finalized very quickly.

Ivy Sherwood nodded. "Then thank you for your generosity, Uncle."

After saying that, she picked up her bag and pulled out a small box.

"Uncle, this is the gift you gave me last time. I looked it up... It’s too valuable. I can’t accept it."

Quentin Blackwood instantly recognized the box—it was for the earrings he had given her.

Seeing Ivy Sherwood try to return them, Quentin Blackwood’s expression turned visibly colder.

Before Quentin Blackwood could speak, Ivy Sherwood quickly explained, "Uncle, last time you said you bought them casually and that they weren’t valuable, but over ten million is an immense amount. We’re not related, so you don’t need to give me these things."

’Besides, when Quentin Blackwood gives me such expensive things, it sends the wrong message.’

’It’s just like those rich men who give expensive gifts to the women they keep, trying to win their favor.’

Ivy Sherwood didn’t want their relationship to become like that. Quentin Blackwood didn’t need to give her anything; that wasn’t what she was after in the slightest.

"I know you said you don’t take back gifts, Uncle, but I don’t want to accept this so ambiguously. Otherwise... how about I buy it from you at market price?"

’She did have over ten million, after all.’

"Do you think I’m short on cash?" Quentin Blackwood’s gaze was glacial.

"Of course you aren’t, Uncle. I just can’t accept it with a clear conscience."

"Fine. Since you insist on an exchange, I can indulge you. But I don’t want money." Quentin Blackwood’s eyes locked with Ivy Sherwood’s, his powerful aura pressing in on her.

"Then what do you want?"

The next second, Quentin Blackwood’s arm shot out and wrapped around Ivy Sherwood’s waist. She felt herself being lifted off the ground for an instant before he sat her on the table.

Quentin Blackwood set her down on a clear spot on the table, then leaned in close.

"You."