Chapter 15: Her Bottom Line

“You want a one-night stand with me? Strip and get in the car now. There’s no need to use your father’s death as an excuse.”

“What do you think?”

His tone remained as calm as ever.

The chill radiating from his eyes spread across Jennifer’s face, leaving no trace of ambiguity, desire, or anything resembling warmth.

She stared at him. “If I stripped and got in the car to seduce you, would you follow?”

Michael snorted and released her.

“You can try. See if I take the bait first or if you break down first.”

He had already seen through her façade.

She wasn’t nearly as arrogant or reckless as she was pretending to be.

He didn’t touch her that night—not even with the slightest indulgence she’d been baiting him for.

Soon, the designated driver arrived.

He got into the Bentley alone and drove away.

Before entering the car, he affected a dandyish air, tugging at his tie with a deliberate, mocking flourish:

“Get back to the dorm early. Remember to attend class tomorrow like a good student. The top student at your prestigious university, right?”

Jennifer smiled, adjusting her dress strap in front of the driver.

“Then you’d better wash off my scent. Lest Miss Rossi catches you sneaking home after an affair.”

As she expected, Michael’s expression soured instantly.

Jennifer was pleased with his reaction.

The driver beside them was stunned.

Even his gaze toward Michael now carried a hint of scrutiny reserved for a pervert.

Michael’s face paled even more when he caught the driver’s gaze.

Once in the car, Michael deleted the ride-sharing app without saying a word.

Jennifer didn’t return to the dorm that night. Instead, she sat on a bench in the city park next to the bar all night.

James also stayed out all night.

He hadn’t seen her since she went to the restroom.

His texts went unanswered. He had no choice but to search for her in the restroom.

The bar’s restrooms were unisex. James didn’t find Jennifer, but he did find her hoodie abandoned in a corner.

Fearing the worst, he bolted into a panic.

He grabbed a bartender at the entrance and asked if anyone had seen a girl in a white dress.

The bartender said she had left long ago.

It wasn’t until dawn that Jennifer realized she’d forgotten about James.

She texted him to say she had returned to her dorm. Almost immediately, he replied:

Okay, I’ll sleep too.

Good night.

Good night, Jennifer.

Jennifer assumed James had gone home early.

In reality, he’d spent the entire night waiting at the bar entrance, holding the hoodie he’d retrieved from the corner.

He finally left the bar and headed home only after she personally confirmed she had reached her dorm safely.

James arrived home at seven in the morning.

In the vast mansion, his parents were already having breakfast.

Alexander Novak and Grace Smith were both surprised that he hadn’t come home the night before.

“James, why didn’t you come home last night?” his mother, Grace, asked.

James had already washed off the smell of alcohol and smoke before returning home.

He was always obedient, and even if he lied, no one would suspect him.

“I had a big assignment due at school, so I pulled an all-nighter in the studio.”

“Dad, Mom, I’m going upstairs to rest. I’m tired.”

“Go ahead. Have some soup when you wake up. It’ll help you feel better.”

“Okay, Mom.”

After James went upstairs, Alexander’s mood soured.

He knew where James had been the previous night. James’ credit card showed purchases for alcohol and drinks—clearly not from the school store.

But Alexander didn’t press Grace further.

He said, “I’ve got golf with Michael this afternoon. I probably won’t be back for dinner.”

Grace replied, “Alright.”

Though Alexander dabbled in business, he never drank.

Since he was meeting Michael, Grace wasn’t worried, even if he came home late.

Yet Alexander remained sullen all day, his expression grim.

Only upon seeing Michael did his mood lift slightly.

After golf, they dined at an upscale restaurant.

In the private room, Alexander raised his teacup in Michael’s honor.

“Congratulations, Michael. It’s certainly a powerful alliance. May your career soar to new heights.”

Who in this circle lacked years of experience and savvy?

When news of Michael and Maria’s marriage first broke, many found it hard to believe.

But anyone in business understood that, no matter how tarnished her reputation, Maria was the mistress of the late Robert Rabinovich.

Robert was exceptionally rare among the wealthy—obsessively sentimental.

He left his vast fortune not to his biological daughter, Sarah, but to Maria, his childless mistress.

Michael, who had just returned to the country, needed to solidify his standing among the dozen or so heirs of the Kowalski family.

The billions in cash and the forty percent stake tied to Maria were crucial.

Besides this, however, the gap between Maria and Michael was enormous—they were truly worlds apart.

Michael, however, wasn’t arrogant.

When discussing the marriage, he didn’t joke about or belittle Maria’s background.

He simply sipped his tea and remarked,

“We’re merely fulfilling each other’s needs.

Unlike you, who was fortunate enough to marry Grace out of love — a union built on genuine affection.”

“Ah, don’t even get me started. It’s nothing but headaches. Since James started college, he became more reckless. He’s not as sensible as he was when you taught him.”

Michael said, “James is over twenty now. He should have his own thoughts.”

Alexander shook his head.

“You wouldn’t believe it—he lied to me and his mother this morning.”

“He didn’t come home last night. His phone records show he was at a bar, but he claimed he stayed up all night in the studio because of heavy coursework.”

Michael blew gently on his tea, his expression calm — until the words didn’t come home all night registered, causing his face to grow inscrutable.

Alexander looked troubled as he leaned back in his high-end chair, folding his hands in front of him.

“I heard he’s been dating someone lately.”

“I wonder who she is. I really hope it’s not one of those university girls who only want a guy’s money and have bad morals.

If that’s the case, all they’ll do is go to motels together, ruining both their studies and their health.”

Michael listened to Alexander, his expression growing cold without his realizing it.

He offered no opinion on the matter.

Alexander didn’t press further.

They discussed medical equipment collaborations for a while longer. As they parted ways, Alexander finally said,

“Michael, can you do me a favor?”

“You don’t have to be so formal.”

“I’m planning to invite a renowned foreign neurosurgeon to give a lecture at my hospital,” Alexander continued. “He has a particular interest in culture. May I borrow your Hunter’s Book for a day to show him? Would that be possible?”

Though it was merely a book, the manuscript possessed immense value and irreplaceable uniqueness.

Even between two closely allied families like Alexander’s and Michael’s, lending such a piece required careful consideration.

To his surprise, Michael readily agreed.

“Of course. I’ll have someone deliver it to your residence tomorrow evening.”

“Oh, I can’t let you do that! I must send someone to collect it from your place. Thank you so much.”

“It’s ok.”

After bidding Alexander farewell and returning to his villa, Michael went to his study to retrieve The Hunter’s Book, only to discover that it, previously treasured in a locked chest, had vanished.

Apart from Jennifer, no one had been there in the past few days.

He instantly suspected the book was now in her possession.

Simultaneously, Alexander’s earlier comment in the dining room flashed through his mind: James hadn’t returned home last night.

Michael’s gaze deepened.

If Michael truly wanted the manuscript, he could have simply sent a secretary to retrieve it.

Yet, he just stared at his phone in the study.

Then, he sent a message to that unlabeled number himself.

At school?