?Chapter 1672:


    At the Jones residence, Christina presented a carefully wrapped box. “Grandma, this is the Elderroot we secured at the auction. It’s meant to help support your health.”


    “That’s incredibly sweet of you, Bonnie. You’ve always been so thoughtful,” Florrie replied with a warm smile, visibly touched. Her granddaughter truly had a tender heart.


    “You’ve always spoiled me, Grandma. Of course I should return that love,” Christina answered, smiling back.


    Florrie held the box as though it were a treasure, her fingers gently tracing its surface. “This must have cost a fortune. Let me send you some money,” she said, already reaching for her phone.


    “Grandma, don’t. I’m not short on funds. Mom and Dad gave me a personal ount, so I’m well covered,” Christina said quickly, stopping her.


    “If you ever need anything, just tell me. I’ve saved plenty and have nowhere else to spend it — seeing you use it would make me happy,” Florrieughed, gently patting Christina’s head.


    “Alright. Then you can consider it my future wedding fund,” Christina joked.


    Florrie agreed at once. “Deal. And all the antiques I’ve collected will be yours as well.”


    “You’re wonderful, Grandma. I love you,” Christina said, hugging her, genuinely moved.


    Just then, a voice interrupted them. “Christina.”


    It was Elliott. Christina turned and saw him carrying several gift bags.


    “I only invited you over for dinner. You didn’t have to bring so much,” Christina said, amused.


    Elliott smiled softly. “It wouldn’t feel right to visit empty-handed. I wasn’t sure what you preferred, so I chose a few things. I hope that’s alright.”


    “Of course it is. We’re happy you came,” Christina said, motioning for a staff member to take the bags from him.


    “And who might this young man be?” Florrie asked, having already been observing Elliott with quiet interest. He carried himself well — his appearance, build, and demeanor all made a strong impression. If her granddaughter liked him, he would make a fine match.


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    “He’s a friend of mine, from the Hubbard family in Dorfield,” Christina exined.


    “Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Jones,” Elliott said politely, offering a courteous smile.


    “The pleasure is mine,” Florrie replied, continuing to study him with approval. He was certainly preferable to Dn.


    The thought of how the Scotts had tried to undermine Christina still darkened Florrie’s expression. Her granddaughter was so exceptional, yet they had treated her so poorly. If Dn knew what Florrie truly thought, he would feel utterly wronged — how could he ever bring himself to cklist Christina? He didn’t even dare raise his voice to her, afraid she might slip away from his life again.


    As Elliott conversed with Florrie, easily drawing herughter, the Wade family arrived. Before stepping into the living room, they heard Florrie’s delightedughter and assumed she was pleased with the auction items they had provided. They exchanged satisfied nces, convinced they had earned the Jones family’s favor, and smiled with relief. Spending over three hundred million felt justified if it meant gaining ess to the Jones family’s influence and resources.


    Confident, the Wades entered the room — only to find an unfamiliar man entertaining Florrie.


    What was happening? Wasn’t she supposed to be celebrating the auction gifts? And who was that man?


    The Wade family froze for a moment, their eyes flicking toward Elliott with barely concealed hostility. Could this man be Christina’s suitor? If so, where did that leave the Wade family? Would their three-hundred-million investment be nothing more than a costly joke? Suspicion clouded their expressions as they quietly assessed him.


    Zahir recovered first and spoke with a practiced smile. “And you are?”


    “He’s a friend of mine. We met earlier to discuss business, so I invited him to join us for dinner,” Christina answered openly.


    From her rxed expression and neutral tone, Zahir could tell she felt no romantic interest in the man. Still, he immediately sensed that Elliott himself was far more invested in Christina. Some outsider thought he could step in and im her before the Wade family? Uneptable. They couldn’t allow this neer to gain ground — Christina had to marry into the Wade family, and soon.


    “So you’re Bonnie’s friend,” Jaxen said with a smile as he stepped closer, attempting to guide Christina toward him with a hand on her shoulder. She deftly shifted away, leaving his gesture upleted.


    Jaxen’s smile stiffened. In front of an outsider, she hadn’t given him the slightest deference. Once she became his wife, he vowed he would teach her her ce — to stand properly beside her husband and support the family. He withdrew his hand, forcing down his displeasure, and turned to Elliott with aposed smile.


    “Hello. I’m Jaxen Wade. My father is Zahir Wade.” He worried Elliott might not grasp the significance, so he made sure to rify. In Lionesspaw, everyone knew Zahir Wade was the head of the Wade Group.


    Elliott raised a brow slightly, an easy smile curving his lips. “I am Elliott Hubbard. I’m quite close with Christina.” He ced particr emphasis on the word close.


    The Wade family’s animosity was unmistakable.


    As their hands met, Jaxen subtly tightened his grip, applying pressure. Elliott kept smiling, calmly increasing his own strength in return. Though Elliott’s expression never wavered, Jaxen’s face twitched with pain. In the end, Jaxen couldn’t endure it and pulled his hand away with effort. Had there been no audience, he would have shaken it out to ease the ache.


    Elliott nced down at his own slightly reddened palm, his smile widening. With strength like that, did the Wade heir truly believe he could win Christina over? A fantasy. Elliott doubted Christina would ever spare Jaxen a second nce — the man was pitiful, hardly fit to even stand beside her. Still, Jaxen had clearly marked him as a rival, though in Elliott’s eyes, Jaxen didn’t even qualify aspetition.


    Noticing the faint mockery in Elliott’s smile, Jaxen clenched his teeth. That outsider was clearly here for Christina — and likely for the Jones family’s fortune as well.


    “Mr. Hubbard, was it?” Jaxen said, adjusting his jacket as he stepped forward. “Wee to the Jones family residence.” His tone implied the Jones family’s wealth already belonged to him.


    “I am here at Christina’s invitation,” Elliott replied evenly, “but if I recall correctly, you’re from the Wade family — which would make you a guest as well.” The implication was clear: Jaxen had no right to act the host, and he would do well to drop the pretension.


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