Deanna was very reluctant to invite Lance over for dinner.
However, she couldn't refuse her grandmother, so she begrudgingly sent Lance a message.
"Mr. Mercer, my grandmother would like to invite you over for dinner tonight to thank you for your help last night."
Lance received the message while he was in a meeting.
He rubbed his phone screen, and his previously stern and cold features softened. A slight smile appeared on his lips, indicating his good mood.
The executives present all breathed a sigh of relief.
Although they didn't know who had messaged their president, they were grateful to that person for calming him down.
That evening, Lance arrived at Deanna's apartment with toys for the two kids.
When he arrived, Deanna was in the kitchen cooking.
Lance greeted her and then played with the kids in the living room.
Laughter occasionally drifted into the kitchen from the living room.
Deanna listened, feeling very conflicted and distracted.
She didn't know what choice to make in this situation.
Just as her thoughts were wandering, she suddenly cut her finger.
She cried out in pain, and the knife slipped from her hand, falling to the floor with a crisp sound.
Lance heard the noise from the living room and rushed into the kitchen, worried.
As soon as he entered, he saw Deanna's bleeding finger and felt a pang of heartache. "You cut your hand. How could you be so careless?"
As he spoke, he grabbed Deanna's wrist and naturally put her injured finger into his mouth.
The warm touch stunned Deanna, and she stared blankly at Lance.
Clearly, she hadn't expected Lance to do that.
Fortunately, she quickly regained her composure and tried to pull her hand away but found she couldn't.
"I'm fine now," Deanna said with a complicated expression.
Her words implied that Lance should let go.
Lance understood and slowly released her.
At this point, her finger had stopped bleeding.
Deanna softly thanked him. "Thank you. I'm fine now, Mr. Mercer. Please go back outside."
She picked up the fallen knife without looking at Lance.
Lance noticed her distancing herself from him, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought.
He had thought that Deanna inviting him over for dinner meant things were back to normal. But now it seemed he had been mistaken.
For some reason, this woman was avoiding him!
Deanna didn't notice. She placed the knife back on the cutting board and turned to find the first aid kit to bandage her finger before continuing to cook.
But after taking just two steps, someone grabbed her wrist forcefully.
Before she could struggle, Lance's low voice, tinged with displeasure, sounded in her ear.
"Come with me!"
With that, Lance pulled Deanna towards the door.
Deanna realized what was happening and struggled. "Lance, what are you doing? Let go of me!"
"We need to talk!"
Lance turned back and said calmly before continuing to pull Deanna away.
In the living room, Old Ashley and the two kids watched them disappear through the door before reacting.
"Brother, is Uncle bullying Mommy?"
Chloe looked conflicted. "Should we help Mommy?"
Gregory frowned, unsure of what to do. "Should we follow them?"
As the two kids prepared to chase after them, Old Ashley quickly held them back.
"Great-grandma, why are you holding us?" The kids looked back in confusion.
Old Ashley looked at them kindly. "Don't disturb them. Let's finish cooking. By the time they're done talking, dinner will be ready."
She glanced at the door with some concern in her eyes.
She hoped their conversation would go smoothly, but things didn't go as she wished.
Deanna followed Lance to an empty stairwell and finally broke free from his grip.
"I want to go back!" she said and turned to leave.
But Lance wouldn't allow it.
He stepped in front of Deanna, his expression serious and unyielding. "Give me a few minutes. We need to talk."
Seeing him like this made Deanna even more anxious and nervous.
"I don't want to talk. There's nothing to talk about. Let me go."
Lance looked at her as she avoided his gaze. His eyes grew darker. "Why can't you look at me? Are you hiding something from me?"
Hearing this, Deanna reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. She glared at him angrily. "Why wouldn't I dare look at you? Don't talk nonsense!"
"Then tell me why you're avoiding me. Did something happen? Did someone say something?"
Lance stared into Deanna's eyes, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly, not allowing her to escape.
Hearing this and seeing his determined yet innocent expression, Deanna felt an inexplicable surge of anger.