Chapter 113 Steven Rushes to the Group

When Quinn got home, she was all set to whip up some medicine when her phone buzzed. It was a message from Ciara.

When Ciara first joined, Isolde had everyone in the fashion design department swap contact info to make work easier.

Seeing voice messages from Ciara, Quinn frowned, indifferent to her. Worried about potential trouble, she hesitated to listen.

Ciara's voice came through, dripping with arrogance.

"Quinn, are you hiding out somewhere, living it up? Just a heads-up, the deadline for the Tailor-made project is next week. Bet you don't have anything decent yet, huh? Don't think you can get ahead just because of your connections."

"I know about your marriage to Carlster. I'll be keeping an eye on you, so don't try any funny business."

"Since you haven't announced it, I'm guessing your marriage to Carlster is purely business. No shortcuts with me."

After listening, Quinn typed back: [Focus on work instead of gossip. I've been here longer, so you should be busier.]

Ciara shot back instantly: [Time can't balance genius and mediocrity. I finished my draft in one night. Life's unfair; abilities vary greatly.]

Quinn figured continuing the chat would just piss her off more: [Time will tell. I'm curious to see how brilliant your talent is. Let's wait and see.]

Ciara sent another voice message, "Quinn, did you really marry Carlster?" Her tone was eager, desperate for a clear answer.

Quinn snorted.

Annoyed, Quinn fired back: [That's none of your business. If you really want to know, ask Carl yourself and see if he'll tell you.]

Ciara, sipping coffee in a café, stomped her feet in frustration when she saw Quinn's reply.

She couldn't grasp why Carlster chose Quinn over her, believing she excelled in education, experience, and family background.

Was Carlster blind?

Meanwhile, Rex burst into Carl's office, clutching a folder.

Carl looked up, surprised. "Is someone chasing you?"

"Mr... Mr... Mr. Carl Ward, Mr... Mr. Steven Ward is here at Elegance Group. You didn't tell us he was coming today. He's already out of the elevator and on his way!" Rex, out of breath, didn't even have time for a sip of water. He was in charge of Steven's inspections at Global Horizon Enterprises.

Carl was stunned. "Grandpa is here?"

Steven hadn't given him a heads-up either. Why would he show up at the company out of nowhere?

Seeing Carl's reaction, Rex was totally confused. What was going on?

Just then, Steven appeared at the end of the hallway, walking with a cane but looking energetic.

At Carl's office door, Steven's driver and bodyguard closed the door and stood guard.

"Mr. Steven Ward, hello!" Rex greeted respectfully, glancing at Carl, feeling a bit uneasy.

"Grandpa!" Carl sprang to his feet, noting Steven's grave expression tinged with urgency and guilt.

Approaching Carl, Steven fixed his cloudy eyes on him, stirring a sense of unease as if a significant event had transpired.

Seeing Steven not responding, Rex stepped forward. "Mr. Steven Ward, would you like some coffee, or..."

Steven cut him off, "You go out and guard the door. No one comes in without my say-so."

Rex nodded, feeling a chill from Steven's commanding presence.

Carl and Steven locked eyes, the atmosphere in the spacious office suddenly turning cold. Rex, not daring to linger, glanced at Carl, silently wishing him luck, and left.

Carl was full of questions. What was up with Steven today? He hadn't done anything wrong, had he? Could it be about Quinn?

As he was trying to figure it out, Steven suddenly tossed his cane aside, grabbed Carl's left hand, unbuttoned his sleeve, and rolled it up.

The palm-sized scar, though not as hideous as before, was still clearly visible.

Steven's chest tightened, he took a deep breath, his eyes wide and moist, still finding it shocking.

Stunned, Carl was too bewildered to respond to Steven's swift actions. Reluctant to reveal the scar, especially to Steven, he had agreed to let Quinn handle it.

"What happened?" Steven's grip on his hand was trembling, his cloudy eyes full of pain, guilt, and worry. "Carl, what happened to this injury? When did it happen? How did it happen? Carl! Don't be afraid. Whoever hurt you, I'll make them pay double, even if it costs me my life."

Carl didn't know how to respond. He felt a bit sad but quickly calmed down, gently patting Steven's hand. "Grandpa, it's okay. It doesn't hurt anymore. Don't worry."

Steven said, "Such a severe injury, how could it not hurt? You're flesh and blood, not made of iron! Looking at this scar, was it from boiling water? It must have been scalding hot! How painful it must have been, Carl!"

Carl's eyes were full of confusion, his thoughts pulled back. "Grandpa, how do you know?"

Steven sighed. "If Quinn hadn't told me, were you planning to keep it a secret forever? Not telling me even after I died?"

Hearing Steven's words, Carl's eyes flashed with coldness.

"Tell me honestly, was it your mother? Which year was it, when you were five or eight?" Despite his reluctance to acknowledge it, Steven, with his extensive experience, had quickly surmised the situation

Carl's lips hesitated, swallowing his words, as he rolled down his sleeve, buttoned it up, and responded with a slightly softer tone than usual, "Grandpa, I got this injury when I was young and playful. It has nothing to do with anyone. Don't worry."

Distressed, Steven realized he had only seen the treated version. Unable to fathom its pre-treatment state, he imagined it must have been far worse, with torn flesh and blood everywhere.

Steven instinctively glanced at the cuff of Carl's collar. "Carl..."

Carl interrupted, "Grandpa!"