Chapter 429

Chapter 429

Garrett let out a small sigh as he stood in the high-rise building, gazing out the window. "When you're out there alone, you always miss home more."

Lewis leaned back in his chair, silent, listening to the faint sound of wind coming through the phone.

Garrett waited for a while but received no comfort from Lewis. He couldn't help but click his tongue. "Are you even listening?"

"Yeah."

"Then why aren't you saying anything? You're thirty-seven, but your behavior is colder than the wind outside."

Lewis remained silent.

Garrett pressed his fingers to his temple, unable to bear it any longer. "You're cold because you didn't close your office window."

Garrett fell silent.

He walked over and shut the window with a loud bang, trying to make himself seem more reasonable.

Before the call ended, Lewis's last words came through. "Stop hanging out with Simon so much."

You're losing your mind.

Garrett was silent.

He could tell Lewis was annoyed with him.

He picked up his phone and started typing, ready to complain about Lewis's cold behavior. But before he could send it, a knock on the door startled him, causing his finger to slip and delete everything he had written.

Damn it.

All those words he painstakingly typed!

Through the door, the knocking continued persistently. Garrett gritted his teeth, hoping whoever was outside had something important to say.

The door swung open with a creak, and Garrett looked down at the young woman standing there without saying a word.

The young woman shivered under his gaze, too scared to speak.

She was on the verge of tears. Who said Garrett from Imperial City had a good temper? Were they blind?

The silent standoff stretched between them, and Garrett, feeling the chill from the doorway, finally couldn't hold back. "What is it?"

The young woman shivered again, quickly glancing at Garrett's expression before speaking rapidly. "Mr. Edwards and the others would like to invite you to dinner at Velour Haven tomorrow night at eight."

"Got it."

Knowing meant agreeing. The young woman breathed a sigh of relief, bowed slightly, and left quickly. Her hurried steps made it seem like Garrett was a wild wolf rather than a man.

The door closed, blocking out the cold wind.

But Garrett, leaning against the door, felt a chill in his heart, sensing danger.

The people here, despite their friendly appearances, were full of schemes. If he wasn't careful, they'd bury him alive.

Take this dinner invitation, for example. It wasn't just a simple meal; it was a chance to probe into his affairs in Imperial City.

After all, who would refuse to share a few ambiguous truths over drinks in a foreign land?

He had to attend this dinner and speak honestly, but there was a limit to how much he could reveal.

Garrett tapped his finger unconsciously, then sighed.

To be safe, he decided to bring someone from the Windsor family with him.

The day passed quickly, and Garrett arrived at Velour Haven just two minutes past eight.

Velour Haven was usually bustling, even if you couldn't see the people, you could see the busy waitstaff.

But tonight was different. All work had stopped, and the waitstaff stood quietly on either side of the path.

Those who knew understood they were there to serve, but those who didn't might think he was being led to his doom.

Garrett kept his complaints to himself, maintaining a cold demeanor as he entered the private room.

Inside, nine people sat neatly, leaving a seat next to the head of the table for Garrett.

He glanced around, not speaking or moving.

The few who had intended to speak were silenced by his gaze, frozen in their seats.

Until an elderly voice suddenly broke the silence. "Miguel, you're being rude. Move aside."

Miguel Clark, the middle-aged man sitting at the head of the table, gritted his teeth, adjusting his expression as he stood.

He put on a fawning smile. "I was just warming the seat for Mr. Riddick, since it's cold."

Garrett looked at him indifferently, his face expressionless. "Miguel, change the chair."

His words dropped like a bomb in the room, making the atmosphere even more tense.

This wasn't just about acceptance; it was a direct blow to Miguel's dignity.

The tension was palpable, but its source was unclear.

Miguel clenched his fists, bending slightly to meet the old man's clear eyes.

Having followed him for years, Miguel easily read the meaning in those eyes.

So Miguel smiled. "Alright, I didn't realize Mr. Riddick was a germaphobe. My mistake."

The chair was moved without a sound, but the marks on the floor showed what had happened.

Garrett took his seat, and the dinner officially began.

Everyone tacitly avoided mentioning the earlier incident, drinking and boasting under the influence.

Garrett drank two glasses, his face slightly flushed.

He leaned back in his chair, listening to the conversation, occasionally chiming in without seeming out of place.

Someone laughed. "Mr. Riddick, you've been here a while now. How do you like it here?"

"It's nice, by the sea. It's quite pleasant."

The person hadn't expected Garrett to respond, but he did.

Seeing Garrett's softened expression, they seized the opportunity to joke. "Have you thought about staying here permanently? Maybe marrying a local girl..."

Before he could finish, someone interrupted with a laugh. "You're not asking if Mr. Riddick likes it here; you're trying to set him up with your daughter!"

"Don't be ridiculous! That's not what I meant."

The two bantered, making it seem like a joke with no hidden agenda.

Garrett smiled slightly, pretending not to notice their probing.

Until someone suddenly asked, "But Mr. Riddick, have you thought about finding a new lover?"

Garrett and Penelope's breakup had been widely known, but few knew they had reconciled.

Garrett glanced at the person, finally showing a genuine smile. "I wouldn't dare say that. If my wife heard, she'd skin me alive."

The table fell silent for a moment, everyone shocked by his response.

Even Graham Edwards, who had organized the dinner, looked surprised.

"Who would've thought, Mr. Riddick is afraid of his wife? I say, we should stand our ground. How can we let our wives control us?"