?Chapter 172:


    Cedars rose majestically in the mountains, standing tall and unyielding even beneath the weight of heavy snow,manding attention.


    Momentster, Elena steadied herself and pushed against his shoulder, creating a deliberate distance. Her eyes lowered slightly, her tone measured and calm. “Thank you, Mr. Spencer.”


    Earlier, she had stumbled, nearly falling, but Wesley had swiftly caught her.


    Without a word, Wesley withdrew his hand and settled onto the sofa. His right hand curled, fingertips slightly bent. Her waist was surprisingly slender.


    This was Elena’s second time entering Wesley’s home office. The first asion had been to borrow a painting. Today marked the second. Elena seated herself across from him, maintaining aposed demeanor. “Do you know anyone from the Griffiths family?”


    Wesley extracted a cigarette, casting a measured nce in her direction. Understanding his unspoken query, Elena responded, “I don’t mind. Go ahead.”


    He positioned the cigarette between his lips. With a crisp click, the lighter sparked to life, illuminating the cigarette’s tip with a soft, burning glow. He took a drag, his long fingers elegantly holding the cigarette as he exhaled a perfect smoke ring.


    Lounging casually against the sofa back, his long legs crossed, his exquisite face ethereally shrouded in wisps of smoke, Wesley finally spoke, “No.”


    Elena nodded. That made things easier.


    Wesley’s voice cut through the silence. “I wasn’t aware of the cooperation. A smallpany like that isn’t on my radar.”


    Joseph had privately arranged the cooperation with the Griffiths family, essentially just going through the signing process within thepany. The ind duty-free zone project was highly profitable—a major revenue driver for the Spencer Group over the next five years. Joseph wanted this project but didn’t dare ask Wesley outright, instead resorting to subtle maneuvers to test the waters. If Wesley didn’t object, the coboration would crystallize, offering Joseph a strategic foothold to gradually infiltrate the project.


    But Wesley had meticulously handled the project—Joseph’s attempt to seize it was nothing more than a desperate, misguided fantasy. Gerald had grown indulgent with age, even suggesting Wesley relinquish his prized project to Joseph.


    Joseph possessed an insatiable appetite but no real ability—merely a whisper of cunning.


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    Out of calcted respect for Gerald, Wesley had refrained from eradicating Joseph and his crew, allowing a few parasitic remnants to linger within the Spencer Group. This strategic mercy granted them delusivefort, perpetuating the illusion that the Spencer Group still danced to Gerald’s tune.


    Wesley’s refusal to cooperate with the Griffiths family delivered a razor-sharp rebuke to Joseph. And this was just a small warning. If it happened again, he wouldn’t be so merciful.


    “I understand,” Elena said. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring back the cinnabar, but rest assured, I won’t break my promise. Give me three more days, and I’ll get it for you.”


    Wesley extinguished his cigarette, his deep eyes fixed on her with an intensity that seemed to pierce through her. “Alright, I expect to see the cinnabar in three days.”


    Elena met his inscrutable gaze and then calmly looked away. This time, Wesley was much more agreeable than before. Where his previous interactions had felt like a chess match—each word a calcted move—today he disyed an uncharacteristic ease.


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