Chapter 81 Green with Envy
Sloane's POV
A few days later, I went to the lab to check on the project progress. David was excitedly directing the installation of new equipment. When he saw me, he immediately came over.
"Sloane, you're finally here! Someone from Mr. Rex's side came to coordinate. He said his old migraine problem has flared up again and asked if we know any reliable medicine therapists."
I paused at his words.
"I still have the calming herbal sachet that Director Aria left last time. It has some effect on relieving neurological headaches," I thought for a moment, then found a delicate cloth pouch from the storage cabinet. "Help me contact Mr. Rex's assistant. I'll deliver it personally. After all, he invested in us - consider it a small token of thanks."
Professionally, this was a courteous gesture toward an investor.
Personally, I also wanted to use this opportunity to firmly establish our relationship as purely business.
The call connected quickly, but it was Harrison himself on the other end, his voice warm and clear.
"Dr. Sloane, what a coincidence. I was just about to contact you."
I briefly explained my intention to deliver the herbal sachet. After listening, he chuckled softly. "I really appreciate that, but more than the sachet, I'd prefer if you would do me the honor of letting me thank you in person." He paused, his tone leaving no room for refusal. "Just consider it a casual meal to celebrate our pleasant cooperation. How about it?"
With him putting it that way, refusing would seem cold and would violate basic business etiquette.
"Alright." In the end, I couldn't refuse and had to agree.
After hanging up, before I could process this unexpected dinner arrangement, I heard him murmur something through the phone, as if talking to himself, in a nostalgic tone. "You're still the same as before, haven't changed at all..."
"What?" His voice was too soft; I didn't catch it clearly.
Clear laughter came from the other end. He quickly corrected himself, his tone returning to its usual warmth. "Nothing. I was saying I'm looking forward to our dinner."
I didn't press further, but that vague answer unsettled me in a way I couldn't quite explain.
On the day of the dinner, Jared somehow got wind of it.
When I came out of the bathroom, I saw him standing in front of the large floor-to-ceiling mirror, meticulously tying his tie.
He wore a well-tailored dark gray custom suit that made his figure look even more upright. His hair was carefully styled, and he looked like he was about to attend some important business banquet.
He saw me in the mirror, paused, then turned around and scrutinized me from head to toe. Finally, he frowned. "You're wearing that?"
I looked down at my white shirt and jeans, feeling somewhat helpless. "It's just a casual meal."
"No way." He came over, pulled me back to the walk-in closet, and without discussion picked out a simple black dress from a row of formal wear. "Change into this."
His commanding tone and battle-ready demeanor made me not know whether to laugh or cry.
Looking at him like this, it seemed less like he was going to dinner and more like he was going to declare his sovereignty.
The restaurant was Harrison's choice - elegant atmosphere, excellent privacy.
When we arrived, Harrison was already there.
He wore a cream-colored casual suit today, looking gentle as jade, with less of a businessman's sharpness and more of a scholar's refinement.
When he saw me, his eyes lit up, then his gaze fell on Jared beside me, who was radiating a "stay away" aura. The smile at the corner of his mouth deepened.
"Jared came along too. What an honor." He stood up and proactively extended his hand.
Jared shook it coldly and immediately let go, pulling out the chair beside me and pressing me into the seat with a protective gesture.
Harrison acted as if he didn't notice his hostile movements and naturally handed me the menu.
Just as I was about to open it, he smiled and pressed my hand down. "No need to look. I've already ordered."
I was somewhat surprised and was about to say something when the waiter began serving dishes in a steady stream.
Pan-seared foie gras, black truffle pasta, cream of mushroom soup - every single dish was my favorite.
The surprise on my face was impossible to hide. I instinctively looked at Harrison. "Mr. Rex, how did you know..."
Before I could finish my question, Jared beside me suddenly spoke coldly, answering before me, "I told him."
He lied without batting an eye, his tone so matter-of-fact, as if he really had coordinated with Harrison beforehand.
I froze, instinctively looking at him. Meeting his eyes that held a hint of nervousness and warning, I immediately understood.
I found it somewhat amusing yet helpless, but ultimately chose silence, going along with his clumsy performance.
Harrison just raised an eyebrow at this, a knowing smile flashing in his deep eyes, but he didn't expose the lie.
From the start, this meal was permeated with a strange atmosphere.
Jared looked like he wanted to carve the word "ownership" on his face. He suddenly reached out his arm and pulled me into his embrace without allowing refusal, making me press tightly against his burning chest.
"Sloane hasn't had much appetite lately. She needs to eat more." As he spoke, he picked up the knife and fork, cut the steak on my plate into small pieces, then speared a small piece with the fork and brought it directly to my lips.
His movements were intimate yet domineering, the intent to declare ownership unmistakable.
His sudden feeding made my face turn completely red. In front of an outsider, I was so embarrassed I didn't know what to do with my hands and feet.
But meeting his eyes that allowed no refusal, to avoid making him lose face in public, I could only stiffly open my mouth and let him feed me.
Harrison across from us took in this entire scene. He methodically cut the food on his own plate, the corner of his lips curving into an ambiguous smile, his tone casual as he spoke. "Mr. Montclair is truly considerate. However, love isn't about confinement. Sometimes holding on too tightly makes it hard for someone to breathe."
He paused, looked up, his gaze looking straight at Jared, the mockery in his tone undisguised. "Or is it that Mr. Montclair lacks confidence in himself and needs to use this method to prove something?"
The tension in the air was instantly ignited.
Jared's arm around me suddenly tightened, his expression dark enough to drip water.
He put down his utensils, looked up to meet Harrison's gaze, his eyes cold as ice. "How I dote on my wife is my business."
He spoke word by word, his voice laced with poisonous coldness. "As for Mr. Rex, being so interested in other people's family affairs - isn't that overstepping a bit?"