It’s nearly a twelve-hour flight from Paris to Aethelburg.
On top of that, with the chaos in Paris right now, James Grant still has to find out where she is.
In other words, James got on a plane almost immediately after parting from Shane Sinclair and himself, and swiftly found his way here.
Listening to Evelyn Clayton’s mocking words, James Grant showed no reaction, not even a hint of annoyance. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ NovєlFіre.net
He just glanced sideways at the people in the car, his voice tense: "Who is he?"
Before Evelyn Clayton could speak, Samuel Quinn suddenly stepped out of the car.
Dispelled of his earlier drunkenness, Samuel Quinn, looking refined, glanced at Evelyn with a smile, "Evelyn, is this your friend?"
Evelyn Clayton said indifferently: "Not exactly a friend."
"Oh, then I guess he’s a stranger." Samuel Quinn discreetly shielded Evelyn behind him, looking at James Grant with a half-smile, "Hello, let me introduce myself, I’m Evelyn’s fiancé, last name Quinn. Our Evelyn said she isn’t close with you, buddy, could you step aside?"
James Grant’s heart felt suddenly stabbed, no visible wound, yet blood flowed relentlessly.
He could hardly feel the pain, almost as if he were numb.
"Fiancé?" James Grant spoke almost on instinct, "I never knew the Sinclair family’s eldest daughter had a fiancé."
Coldness rose in Samuel Quinn’s eyes as he scoffed lightly, "Buddy, there are plenty of things you don’t know."
With that, Samuel Quinn glanced at Evelyn Clayton, "Let’s go, Evelyn, no need to waste words on him."
Evelyn Clayton cast a glance at James Grant, then turned to get into the car.
However, in the next second, her wrist was tightly grasped.
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed slightly, instinctively struggling, but to no avail.
The voices of her and Samuel Quinn rang out simultaneously.
Looking at the equally cold gazes before him, a chasm within James Grant’s heart widened evermore.
The wind in Aethelburg is truly cold, he thought.
Otherwise, why does he feel a chill permeating despite wearing a thick coat?
"Evelyn, don’t be ." James Grant’s tone was almost pleading, he had never pleaded with anyone before, "Don’t be ..."
James Grant didn’t know either.
"James Grant, if you don’t let go of me now, my fiancé won’t be polite to you."
As the words fell, Samuel Quinn moved, grabbing James Grant’s collar in one swift motion.
His fist landed mercilessly, James Grant had no time to dodge, retreating two steps from the blow.
Evelyn Clayton stood still, her heart uncontrollably tightened twice.
She didn’t want to look into James Grant’s eyes, deep like the sinking night; she only pulled back Samuel Quinn, preventing him from striking again.
Evelyn Clayton and Samuel Quinn got into the car one after the other, instructing the driver to leave this troubled place immediately.
The car turned around and gradually drove away.
Evelyn’s gaze was fixed on the rear-view mirror.
She saw James Grant standing there, with a desolation and disappointment she had never seen before.
The biting autumn wind of Aethelburg lifted his coat corners, as though the night would swallow him whole.
After a long while, until James Grant’s figure disappeared from sight, Evelyn Clayton finally withdrew her gaze, belatedly.
What was she thinking? Evelyn just felt it was absurd.
Why would she still feel pity for James Grant?
Beside her, Samuel Quinn suddenly spoke.
"Evelyn, is this really how you want things to be?"
Evelyn abruptly turned her gaze to him, seeing Samuel Quinn look at her earnestly.
As if asking, yet also as if sighing.
"What?" Evelyn instinctively asked back.
Words reaching the tip of Samuel Quinn’s tongue, he ultimately swallowed them back.