Chapter 336
Maynard arranged to meet Victoria at a downtown café.
Yasmine stood nearby, handing each of them a copy of the contract.
“Mr. Langford wanted to come in person, but he’s tied up with work,” she explained.
Victoria smiled politely. “I understand. Should I wait for Mr. Langford to look over the contract, or do we sign now?”
Maynard replied, “Once you sign, I’ll bring it back to Mr. Langford myself. He’ll review it, then I’ll return the finalized copy to you.”
“Alright,” Victoria agreed.
To Yasmine’s utter shock, Victoria sold the business to The Langford Group-at double the asking price.
Once Victoria finished signing, Maynard stood up. “Thank you, Mrs. Reed. I won’t take any more of your time.”
Victoria nodded. “Take care, then.”
She turned to Yasmine. “What do you want to eat? Order whatever you like, don’t hold back.”
Yasmine swallowed hard. “Boss, with that much money, couldn’t we open two more V&S offices?”
Victoria laughed. “No need. Isn’t it more fun to have cash to burn? Let’s hit a bar tonight.”
Yasmine was caught off guard. “What for?”
“I’m taking you and Ailie out for drinks,” Victoria grinned. “And we’ll order some eye candy.”
Yasmine was speechless.
Meanwhile, McNeil finished his work and headed to the hospital.
Since Violet had been admitted, her health had gradually improved. McNeil had arranged for a rotation of professional caregivers to watch over her day and night. “McNeil, what brings you here?” Violet asked, sitting up in bed. He moved to steady her.
“Lie back, don’t strain yourself. I came to see you.”
She’d been in the hospital for days. Every time, it was only McNeil’s assistant who visited. Out of stubbornness, she’d never called him herself. Now, he was finally here. She wanted to see him—she really did-but Violet knew how to keep her composure.
“I know work keeps you busy. It’s my own fault for not being strong enough to help you, and for making you worry.”
McNeil frowned. “You don’t need to worry about helping me. Just focus on getting better. Leave the company to me.”
Violet hadn’t expected him to say that, and her eyes grew a bit misty.
“So… you’re saying you don’t want me back at Quantum Core Technologies?”
“That’s not what I mean,” McNeil said quietly. “I’m just concerned about your health.”
Violet’s voice rose slightly. “I don’t want to be a caged bird, living off you with nothing to do. I have my own mind my own life. McNeil, I’m not Victoria. Don’t treat me like her.”
At the mention of Victoria, McNeil’s expression darkened.
“You’re nothing like her,” he said, his voice cold.
He would never interfere with Violet’s choices. Victoria, though, was different. Everything she did tugged at his emotions.
Violet noticed the change in his face and her own fell.
“Don’t treat me like Victoria. You know I hate being controlled.”
His tone grew icier. “I won’t. Not with you.”
He had neither the interest nor the time to keep Violet under lock and key. Since
Victoria, no other woman could even catch his eye.
Violet brightened. “So you’re okay with me coming back to Quantum Core Technologies?”
“If that’s what you want,” he replied coolly.
Just then, his phone buzzed. It was a message from Isaac.
“Holy hell-Marcus’s girl is wild. I always thought he was the conservative type, but the woman he’s into is something else—”
Attached was a video from a club: three women in the center of a private lounge, two of them flirting and drinking with male dancers, the third dancing up close, pressed hip-to-hip with a handsome guy. The whole scene was electric.
Then McNeil saw her-Victoria, moving like a snake, draped across a man’s arms, their faces almost touching.
His blood boiled. Darkness clouded his face as he stormed out, already dialing his phone, not even hearing Violet call after him.
“Send me the address. Now.”
He was nearly grinding his teeth. Damn Victoria. Damn that woman. He’d just had accounting wire her a fortune, thinking maybe she’d come to her senses with that kind of money.
And what was she doing? Surrounded by men, playing games? His money was for this?
The business car tore down the city streets, tires screeching against the pavement.
Inside the thundering nightclub, Marcus had been watching so long his eyes stung, still half-sure he’d mistaken her identity.
But he’d sent over drinks three times, and each time, the woman with the most admirers confirmed she was “Fannie.” She even raised her glass-filled with water, not vodka-and toasted him from across the room.
At that moment, Marcus nearly slapped himself.