Chapter 74: Her Turf, His Overstepping Boundaries

Two days later, Sunrise City.

The National Historical Document Translation Center was located in a quiet complex in the core area of Sunrise City. There were two security checkpoints at the perimeter, and inside was the country's highest-security linguistics research facility.

Leandro made his way through the six electronic security gates in the third-floor central zone, while Elisa, dressed in a white blouse and black wide-leg trousers, followed steadily behind him.

He pushed open the heavy soundproof door.

Inside, eight senior researchers in white lab coats stopped their work and looked over in unison.

Leandro approached the holographic display table at the head of the room and rapped his knuckles against its surface.

"Stop what you're doing and come meet someone."

"Elisa, my last and most significant protégé. As of today, she will assume control of workstation three and take complete charge of decoding the medieval language systems."

When he finished speaking, the room went quiet. Then, neat applause filled the encrypted room.

Workstation three had sat vacant for a full five years. It was the most challenging section in the entire translation hub, and its last occupant had been Leandro himself.

Ability was the only credential that mattered here.

3 PM. Heavy footsteps echoed from the corridor outside.

The assistant director opened the door to the secure room, beaming warmly. "Mr. Shaw, this is our central translation zone."

Elisa's fingers paused on the keyboard. She looked up.

Stephen was wearing an impeccably tailored deep black custom suit, one hand in his pants pocket, as he walked in.

The deputy director clapped his hands.

"Everyone, pause for a moment. Let me introduce you—this is Stephen Shaw from Oceanview Group. Oceanview Group has just injected five hundred million dollars in special research and development funding into the center. Everyone, please welcome him."

Applause rang out.

Stephen's eyes scanned the entire room before finally coming to rest on Elisa's face. He strode over with long steps, making directly for workstation three.

"Ms. Roberts." Stephen's voice was low. "Are you adjusting well to being back in the country?"

She had barely set foot in the research institute, and he had followed right on her heels with half a billion dollars to become a sponsor?

Looking at this man who had suddenly become the biggest client, Elisa's defense mechanisms kicked in instantly.

She stood up, her tone polite, maintaining absolute professional distance.

"Everything's fine."

Stephen gave a small nod, his eyes dropping to the screen on her desk. It was covered with intricate code and comparison charts of ancient languages.

"That's a heavy workload. You don't need to push yourself so hard."

"It's part of my work." Elisa lifted a folder to conceal the screen. "The center has rules about confidentiality. Non-essential personnel are not permitted to view the original documents. Mr. Shaw, please move back."

A direct dismissal. The deputy director's expression changed, and he was about to smooth things over.

But Stephen didn't get angry.

"Very well." He moved back half a pace, then turned and followed Leandro toward the private office in the rear chamber, without saying another word.

At 6:30 in the evening, the workday concluded. Elisa stepped out of the research institute's main entrance. A heavy downpour was falling outside, rain pelting the granite steps and splashing upward.

The sky had gone completely dark.

She took out her phone. The ride-hailing app showed over three hundred people in the queue.

Louis had sent a message half an hour ago saying he'd sent his assistant to pick her up. The car was parked at the main road intersection outside the research institute.

Because this was the edge of a military-controlled area, outside vehicles couldn't enter the side roads.

Elisa did the math—there were still a full two thousand feet to the intersection. Glancing at the sheet of rain outside, she furrowed her brow just a little.

A pure black long-handled umbrella opened beside her, blocking the driving rain.

Elisa turned her head.

Stephen stood beside her. He had shed his carefully tailored suit jacket and now wore only a dark gray shirt, its cuffs folded up.

"Let's go, I'll walk you over." He gripped the umbrella handle, looking straight ahead.

Elisa promptly moved back half a step to the side, putting some space between them.

"No need. I brought an umbrella."

"The wind direction here is chaotic. An ordinary folding umbrella won't be enough." Stephen stated it directly. "Don't gamble with your own health out of stubbornness. Let's go."

He didn't allow her any further chance to decline. He stepped down from the platform and held the umbrella firmly over Elisa's head.

The rain was getting heavier. Elisa bit her lip and reluctantly followed.

The two walked into the rain, side by side.

The wind direction suddenly changed, and a gust of wind carrying torrential rain rushed at them from an alley on the right.

Stephen's right hand, clutching the umbrella handle, tilted sharply toward Elisa. At the same time, his left hand reached behind Elisa's back and naturally settled around her left shoulder.

His arm tightened, pulling Elisa close.

Caught off guard, Elisa bumped into his solid shoulder, her nose instantly filled with a sharp cedar scent.

Her entire body tensed up, and her immediate instinct was to lift her hand and push against his chest.

"Don't move." Stephen's voice was low and carried an undeniable force. "On the right."

A military truck transporting supplies roared past.

The wide wheels crushed through a puddle on the road, splashing muddy water up.

The dirty water hit Stephen's right back and pant leg, instantly soaking through his expensive shirt. Elisa, protected in his arms, was completely unharmed—not even a single drop of water touched her.

The truck drove away, its engine sound disappearing into the rainy night.

Elisa immediately broke free from his arm and stepped to the left.

"Thank you."

Stephen lowered his left hand, which had been wrapped around her. He rubbed his fingertips together, savoring the lingering warmth from the fabric of her clothing.

"You're welcome."

The two continued walking toward the intersection.

2,000 feet away at the main road intersection, a black Maybach was parked under the tree shadows.

The assistant sat in the driver's seat.

He gripped a high-powered telephoto camera, its lens trained on the two figures approaching from the far end of the side street.

His finger kept moving, pressing the shutter continuously.

Afterward, he bundled the high-definition images and transmitted them directly to Louis's personal phone via an encrypted channel.

The York Group headquarters building, top floor, conference room one.

Both sides of the long conference table were filled with executives.

The head of marketing stood before the projection screen, perspiring heavily while delivering the third-quarter mergers and acquisitions report.

Louis sat at the head of the table. He leaned back in his leather chair, slowly playing with a solid gold pen between his fingers. His expression was stern.

The phone screen on the corner of the table lit up. It vibrated once.

Louis's gaze shifted down. He opened the photos the assistant had sent.

First photo: Pouring rain. Stephen is holding an umbrella with one hand, tilting most of the umbrella surface over Elisa's head.

Second photo: In the fierce wind. Stephen's left hand wrapped around Elisa's shoulder, firmly holding her against him. Their bodies pressed tightly together.

Louis's fingers, playing with the pen, stopped completely.

He gripped the pen barrel tightly.

The tip of the solid gold pen drove straight through the solid wood table in front of him, producing a shrill, grating crack.