Chapter 436: 432, Take the Trump Card to Banyan City (Revised)
Ewan Zimmerman watched Olivia Zane’s panic unfold before his eyes. Nathan Moore slightly curved his lips, affectionately pinching Olivia Zane’s nose, "Alright, I’ll let you off this time, but next time, I won’t let you get your way so easily!"
Having said that, he turned over and lay down beside her, staring at the ceiling above, but from the corner of his eye, he clearly saw Olivia Zane’s relieved demeanor.
After catching her breath briefly, Olivia Zane climbed out of bed without even bothering to straighten her disheveled hair, "Nathan, I won’t disturb your rest anymore."
With that, Olivia Zane hurriedly left, perhaps still not fully recovered, stumbling as she rushed out of the room.
Closing the door, Olivia Zane leaned against it, pressing her hand against her chest and taking deep breaths.
That was too dangerous just now... Fortunately, he didn’t force anything.
Her heart racing, she reached into her cardigan pocket with trembling hands and fetched a small bottle, tipping a few pills into her mouth.
She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, gasping for a while until her breathing finally evened out before she could stand up and leave.
In the bedroom, Nathan Moore waited until Olivia Zane’s footsteps had faded before rising. He picked up his phone and a pack of cigarettes, leaping from the bed to walk toward the window.
After lighting a cigarette and taking a drag, exhaling smoke, he watched the night outside the window with narrowed, brooding eyes. Putting the phone to his ear, Nathan Moore spoke.
"Ewan, help me check on something..."
Felix Shaw was right, everyone has desires, and just now, he clearly saw the yearning in Olivia Zane’s eyes, yet he didn’t want to give in to her...
Taking another drag of his cigarette and exhaling the smoke slightly curving his lips, Nathan Moore, after ten years, belatedly realized the issue.
Looking down, he let out a small sigh of resignation.
Thinking of that heartless woman would always stir him awake, yet after being so intimate with Olivia Zane just now, things remained quiet.
Looking back out the window, Nathan Moore took a deep inhale of his cigarette, the smoke blurring his vision.
Heartless woman, dare to reject me again, just like three years ago, I will tie you down by my side!
Turning back to the bed, he pressed the cigarette butt into the ashtray and walked toward the bathroom. Nathan Moore thoroughly cleaned his mouth inside and out, washed his hands, and then returned to the bed.
He picked up his phone and dialed another number.
"Big Brother, how’s Beatrice Hargrave’s performance preparations coming along?"
"Ha! As if you care. Thought you had forgotten," Nicholas Croft responded dryly, clearly holding a grudge that his brother wasn’t more involved.
Nathan Moore chuckled, replying.
"How could I forget? You’ve been working so hard behind the scenes, Big Brother. How could your brother forget, though I’ve been a bit busy lately..."
"Busy chasing women?"
Nathan Moore hadn’t finished speaking when Nicholas Croft impatiently interrupted him, "How admirable."
Nathan Moore laughed again, his tone humble but his words uncompromising.
"The same goes for both of us. All of us brothers are alike. Aren’t you also busy promoting your own woman without seeking any return, and Felix, he’s the same..."
"Hmph! Don’t lump me in with you two! When she was right by your side, you didn’t treat her right. Now that she’s ignoring you, you’re scrambling to please her."
Nathan Moore...
Does Big Brother really need to be so sarcastic?
Licking his lips and about to say something more, there seemed to be a commotion on the other end, and Nicholas Croft said, "Alright, enough talk. Make sure to fly to Banyan City on time to support Beatrice. Otherwise, we’re through!"
With that, Nicholas Croft hung up the phone.
Nathan Moore...
He hadn’t even asked if Beatrice Hargrave had invited that heartless woman.
Thinking of calling back, he reconsidered, deciding it could wait until they met face-to-face to ask.
As he set down the phone, something else suddenly occurred to him, and he picked it up again to call his assistant Ewan.
"Before you come to pick me up tomorrow, stop by the office... In the second drawer to the right of my desk, bring the little notebook inside..."
After hanging up, Nathan Moore leaned against the bed with his arms crossed, his thumbs chasing each other restlessly, and a smug smile appeared on his lips. This time, he would bring his "trump card" to confront that pretty boy and see what excuses he’d have then.