Chapter 6: Waiting for Your Wife?

In the open box on the second floor, there were three people in total.

Herbert Grantham held a cigarette between his fingers and slowly read through the contract on his lap.

Hilary North, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, looked at his old classmate across from him with a hint of surprise. It had been a long time since they last met.

His gaze finally fell upon the cane beside the man's hand.

His features remained as gentle and refined as they were back in high school, always proper and reserved.

Compared to them, who frequently visited bars and chased girls in groups, he was always the upright one among them.

No one would have thought that after entering university, they would suddenly hear news that the most honest and kind boy from their past had gotten into a car accident because of a woman, leaving him to rely on a cane for the rest of his life.

"Zizhou, if you're so interested in my cane, I can give it to you?"

"Uh... sorry, I was just wondering what exactly happened back then that made you risk your life by rushing into the middle of the road." Hilary North pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses and said, "Back in high school, you only seemed to like one girl, and then you lost contact, right?"

Joseph Archibald lowered his eyes, smiling but saying nothing.

Herbert Grantham had just finished reading the contract in his hand and tossed it aside. Through the wisps of smoke, he saw a hint of bitterness in Joseph Archibald's smile.

"Looks like you're troubled by love?"

There was a subtle mockery and disdain in his tone.

Love, what is that?

Some people are foolish enough to play such a stupid game, even at the cost of breaking their own leg...

For the contract with D Group, Herbert Grantham still needed to consider it, and Joseph Archibald didn't push.

After discussing business, they started chatting about their recent personal lives.

"Brother Ming, I heard you got married? When will you bring your wife out to meet us?" Joseph Archibald, who had just returned to the country, asked casually, not fully aware of the details.

Herbert Grantham shrugged and smiled, neither confirming nor denying.

Midway through, Hilary North went to the restroom.

When he returned, his expression was a bit flustered, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

Earlier, Joseph Archibald had received a call and had already left.

In the large box, only Herbert Grantham remained.

He sat on the sofa with his legs crossed, leisurely sipping his drink.

"Brother Ming, you should go out and take a look! There's quite a commotion outside..."

"What does it have to do with me?" Herbert Grantham responded indifferently.

"Your new wife, her appearance on stage, cough, is a bit wild..."

Sure enough, Herbert Grantham quickly lifted his gaze.

Under the dim light, his face was sharp-featured, and his eyes were deep and intense.

...

On the other side, on the stage of the bar.

Vivien Eipstein's eyes were hazy. Cathy Jerome had chatted with her about many things, and as she listened, she became increasingly drunk.

Her heart felt like it was blocked by a wad of cotton, and she suddenly wanted to do something to vent.

She placed her hand on the pole, and the girl in the bunny suit stepped aside. She signaled to the handsome DJ, and the music changed smoothly to a dance track.

As the music began, she moved to the beat, showcasing her body's rhythm to the fullest.

Her curvaceous figure, having discarded her small outerwear, was now clad in a tight black halter dress.

Her thick, dark hair flowed like seaweed, and the chaotic lights layered in the mist.

She was like a fairy from a distant legend, visually stunning.

First, she was pleasing to the eye, then she captivated the hearts of men.

Most of the spectators around were men.

They whistled excitedly, swinging their arms, and their leering eyes lingered on Vivien Eipstein's swaying waist and thighs.

Vivien Eipstein, with her red lips, seemed to be the queen who controlled everything tonight, holding all the men in the palm of her hand.

Until she saw Herbert Grantham, who appeared with a cold face...

Somehow, he had already jumped onto the stage.

Amidst the chaos, he stood tall and walked towards her with a cool, elegant stride.

"Vivien Eipstein."

The music was loud and pulsating, and she smiled seductively, watching his lips move.

In the next moment, she pounced on the tall, handsome man in front of her.

"President Fu, you haven't left yet? Were you waiting for your wife?" Vivien Eipstein tilted her head, her voice even more childlike due to her drunkenness.

Herbert Grantham looked at the woman in front of him, her radiant smile, and her upper body almost pressed against him. Her entire body exuded not only the scent of alcohol but also a bewitching... aura.

He sneered, grabbing Vivien Eipstein's arm and pulling her off the stage.

They stumbled along, passing by Hilary North, who had a complex expression, and she was dragged into an empty box in the depths of the corridor.

It was pitch black, and suddenly, a chill ran down her spine as she felt the man's proximity and the increasing pressure on her wrist.

"President Fu, you're hurting me..."

"As my wife, being well-behaved is the bare minimum!" Herbert Grantham towered over her, only able to see her face, which was both innocent and mischievous, in the moonlight.

Their breaths mingled.

The air seemed to be filled with a sticky, lingering atmosphere.

"What's wrong? I was just... dancing." Vivien Eipstein, drunk, showed a playful, fearless side, her soft fingers twirling around his tie, and from her rosy lips, she whispered, "Just playing... mmm!"