In the president’s office of The Harvestide Group, James Grant received a call from Owen Sherman.
"What’s the matter?" James felt a slight tension in his heart—could it be something happened to Evelyn Clayton?
Owen sighed on the other end, "Director Grant, I’ve already conducted a basic check-up on Miss Clayton. Her blood sugar and blood pressure are not a big issue, but she won’t let me draw blood for testing, perhaps she doesn’t trust me enough yet... Moreover, Miss Clayton’s mental state seems not too good, she’s a bit anxious."
James had anticipated this possibility long ago.
Evelyn Clayton’s current state was something he had never seen before.
With thorns, like a prickly rose, yet also like a small, extremely vulnerable hedgehog, completely covered in spikes, lacking any sense of security.
James knew that thinking this way was not quite normal, but he truly felt that this vulnerable Evelyn Clayton made it even harder for him to let go.
"Then don’t provoke her for now." James said indifferently, "Stay for the day to provide her with some psychological counseling. We’ll talk more when I return."
After hanging up the phone, James turned on the surveillance cameras in the villa.
On the screen, the scene inside the bedroom appeared distinctly.
He saw Evelyn Clayton sitting motionless on the sofa in front of the balcony, staring outside.
James watched for a while. Even though the person in the footage didn’t move, and he couldn’t even see her face, he didn’t feel bored.
Suddenly, Quentin Hale knocked and entered.
James didn’t move his gaze, speaking lightly, "What’s up?"
"Director Hawthorne is here."
James slightly raised his eyes, about to speak, when he saw Tristan Hawthorne stride into the office.
"When did it become a walk-in here without notice?" James furrowed his brow, very displeased, "What’s the matter?"
Tristan’s face darkened slightly, glancing at Quentin.
Quentin, understandingly, turned and left.
Only then did Tristan speak, the first thing out of his mouth was a stern, "Are you out of your mind?!"
James raised an eyebrow slightly, "What do you mean?"
"What do you mean?" Tristan’s face was as dark as the bottom of a pot, "I already know! Did you lock Evelyn Clayton in that villa in the suburbs?"
James diverted his gaze back to the computer screen, "You’ve got great sources."
Tristan almost laughed in anger, "Guess who told me? It was Yara Reagan! She came to me, trading on our long-time relationship, to keep my mouth shut before she divulged it!"
Meeting with Yara was a series of shocks for Tristan.
Evelyn Clayton inexplicably returned, shocking him once; her two-month disappearance, where she was sheltered by the Sinclair family, shocked him again; of course, none of these compared to the bombshell that James had taken Evelyn, as told by Yara.
"James, do you really know what you’re doing?" Tristan, for the first time in his life, was this emotional, "Do you realize that by doing this, you’re just pushing Evelyn further away from you?"
James’ gaze on the computer screen paused slightly, then he spoke nonchalantly, "I know. Who cares? I never said I needed Evelyn to love me; she just needs to be by my side."
Tristan was infuriated, speaking in a deep voice, "You might deceive others, but can you deceive yourself? Do you really not want her love?"
James didn’t respond, only quietly watching the computer screen.
Tristan, annoyed by his attitude, leaned forward to take a look—
"You..." Tristan was at a loss for words, taking a deep, frustrated breath.
"Forget it, let’s get down to business. Yara and Iris want to see you. They say if you don’t agree, they’ll outright confront you, report it to the police, or get the Sinclair family to resolve this. Choose one."