<b>Chapter </b><b>27 </b>
It seemed like Briar felt the weird and sticky atmosphere in the room. After wiping her sweat, she spoke to Ashton in a slightly cold tone. <b>“</b><b>Mr. </b>Wade<b>, </b>I‘ wash this handkerchief before returning it to you.”
Briar was initially bewitched by his good looks and took the handkerchief without thinking.
By the time she realized it, the handkerchief was already on her forehead. She suddenly thought that the handkerchief she was holding might bea limited edition item, something special and exclusive to Ashton.
“Is it inappropriate to use such an item to wipe sweat so casually? It feels too int
wondered.
Briar paused as she held the handkerchief.
She had no idea what Ashton’s move meant.
intimate… But I couldn’t just throw it away after using it once?” she
“Sure, take your time.” But Ashton didn’t seem bothered by her distant tone; he nodded naturally. “Just return it next time we meet.”
Brandon<i>, </i>hearing this, muttered inwardly, ‘Dude, your schemes are rattling loud.
‘You said take your time, but set another meeting? When is that? Either tomorrow or the day after!
“By then<b>, </b>Miss Jennings probably won’t even have picked up the dry–cleaned handkerchief yet.
‘You’re even using business tactics here.
‘My my! Typical men!‘
Briar didn’t seem to catch any deeper meaning in Ashton’s words and simply agreed before putting away the handkerchief and sitting down to y games.
Therefore, she didn’t notice how Ashton’s gaze followed
actions until finally settling on her slender, nimble fingers.
Brandon watched them, thinking to himself, ‘The air really does have an ambiguous vibe; it’s not just me imagining things. Should I leave now?‘
This time, Griffin’s acupuncture session only took half an hour, with the remaining half hour devoted to auxiliary medicinal bath therapy.
Briar exined everything about taking care of the medicinal bath to Ashton and made sure he remembered before leaving.
When she teft the Wade family at three o’clock in the afternoon<b>, </b>she declined being sent home by Ashton’s men and rode off alone, looking cool as ever.
Finally unable to hold back anymore, Brandon blurted out, “Mr. Wade, there’s something wrong with you…”
Before Ashton could respond, a teasing voice interrupted abruptly, “What’s wrong with your Mr. Wade?”
Brandon turned around and saw Frederick Knight, the psychologist and close friend of Ashton. He quickly greeted, “Mr. Knight.”
?????? ????????
Frederick, with one hand in his pocket and the other holding a thick folder, walked towards them. “Brandon, you haven’t exined what you <b>just </b>said. What’s wrong with Ashton? Is he finally going crazy?”
As Ashton’s exclusive psychologist and close friend, Frederick was more aware than anyone of Ashton’s current physical condition<b>. </b><b>For </b><b>a </b>normal <b>person</b><b>. </b>prolonged severe insomnia would inevitably lead to many physiological abnormalities.
But Ashton was not normal<b>; </b>even after several days without sleep, he could maintain a highly clear mind and agile, nimble <b>body</b><b>, </b><b>which </b>once made Frederick want to hypnotize Ashton for a thorough study.
<b>Unfortunately</b>, Ashton’s willpower was too strong<b>; </b>no matter how many different hypnotic <b>methods </b><b>had </b><b>been </b><b>tried</b><b>, </b><b>there </b><b>were </b><b>very </b><b>few </b><b>that </b><b>could </b><b>truly</b>.
<b>1/3 </b>
hypnotize Ashton.
Brandon nced at Ashton’s expression and, seeing no sign of anger, he mustered the courage to whisper to Frederick, “Mr. Knight, here’s the thing
After hearing the story, Frederick smirked. “Oh my! So your Mr. Wade is quite the charmer, huh?”
Ashton red at Frederick, who was just up trouble, but Frederick was unfazed. With no other choice, Ashton turned to check on <b>his </b><b>grandfather </b>
who was still soaking in the medicinal
As Briar left the Wade family, a car ident halfway caused major traffic congestion. By the time she reached the Jennings family, it was nearly seven o’clock in the evening, just in time for dinner.
Given her “hostile” rtionship with her family, she had intended to bypass the dining room and head straight upstairs, but was stopped by Edgar halfway.
“Briar’s back. Coming home at this hour, have you had dinner yet? Come and join us. There’s chicken wings tonight, your favorite,” he said.
Briar turned her head, looking at Edgar, who seemed to be fully recharged again. Although she was puzzled, she still walked over, not because of the fatherly love Edgar disyed, but because the chicken wings made by their chef were indeed quite good.
It was as if tonight’s dinner had been specially reserved just for her; when the chicken wings were served, an extra te was ced in front of her
‘You really went out of your way, didn’t you? But that’s a bit too obvious.
‘But Edgar never moves without profit–all this
sweg<i>? </i>Bet he’s scheming again,‘ she said inwardly.
Ignoring anyone who tried to talk to her, Briar focused solely on her meal, and once she was full, she set down her fork and left without <b>a </b>word. No matter how loudly Edgar called after her, she pretended not to hear.
Just before closing her bedroom door, she could still hear Edgar’s furious shouting.
She couldn’t stand this life for even one more day.
Flopping onto her bed, Briar sent a message to Nathan, inquiring about Edgar’s activities at thepanytely.
Nathan reported, “Bree, you’re right. Your dad definitely has something to hide. These days, whenever I’m not at thepany, he keeps inquiring about my whereabouts repeatedly, often locking himself in his office for one or two hours, and even cutting off all electronic devices in the office. My people can’t eavesdrop on what he’s doing during that time.”
“How frequently does this happen?” Briar’s annoyed eyes darkened even more.
“Four days, three times. Not exactly rare.”
“Alright, I’ll swing by thepany tonight. Just leave a window
“Got it.”
open for me.”
After hanging up, Briar headed to the walk–in closet, rummaging through the bottom of the cab to pull out a ck biker suit <b>and </b><b>a </b>demaized gun. “Edgar, you better pray I don’t find your secrets tonight.”
It was a dark, windy night, and a ck motorcycle zipped through the empty highway, using trees on either side of the road to dodge surveince cameras before they could snap a shot at each intersection.
Half an hourter, Briar’s motorcycle slowly pulled up to a blind spot near the back gate of the Jennings Group. She took off her <b>helmet</b>, <b>shook </b><b>out </b>her hair, and her gazended on a half–open window on the top floor of the building.
That was the pantry of the president’s office.
23:57 Fri, 8 Aug
After a quick scan of the surroundings, Briar leaned against the wall and folded her phone into apact miniputer. With a few <b>rapid </b>taps, <b>a </b><b>soft </b>“click” sounded as a small security door ten steps away silently popped open.
Briar swiftly slipped in, then moved while controlling the surveince along the way, smoothly taking the elevator straight to the president’s <b>office </b><b>floor </b>