Free Web NovelChapter 283: Chapter 283: Worldview Shattered
"President Sawyer, what are you doing back so soon?"
Levin Sawyer’s sudden appearance at Lead Aerospace HQ startled his assistant, who hurried to ask.
Levin Sawyer looked rushed. His clothes were unchanged and wrinkled, and his hair was a mess, giving him a uniquely handsome, disheveled look.
He grunted twice, only speaking when he reached the door to Sophia Shaw’s office. "If I didn’t come back now, I’d lose her to someone else."
The assistant was speechless.
Levin Sawyer didn’t go in right away. Instead, he stood at the door, took out his phone, and used its screen to fix his hair and straighten his clothes.
He had rushed back after a call from his mother.
Sophia Shaw had been bullied, and Vincent Grant had played the hero who saved the damsel in distress.
Even now, Levin Sawyer was clenching his jaw.
’That damn Grant. So insidious!’
’Sending me off on a wild goose chase while he stays here to woo her.’
’In his dreams!’
"By the way, has that Grant guy tried to contact Chief Engineer Shaw?"
The assistant shook his head.
’How would I know about that?’
Still, the assistant quickly waved Jacobs over. "Jacobs, did President Grant ever contact Chief Engineer Shaw?"
Jacobs, holding both his own work phone and Sophia Shaw’s, scrolled through the latter.
"President Grant messaged Chief Engineer Shaw at nine o’clock. He said he’s set a time for dinner, at six this evening."
"Does Faye know?" Levin Sawyer asked, pinching his lip. His eyebrows shot up in anger.
"Not yet."
Sophia Shaw had been busy with work all day, and Jacobs didn’t dare bother her with something like this.
"Then don’t tell her."
Levin Sawyer took the phone and, in a few swift taps, deleted the message from Vincent Grant.
Jacobs was speechless.
"If President Grant asks, how should we reply?"
"Tell him I’ll be there on time!"
Levin Sawyer tossed the phone back into Jacobs’s arms and turned to walk away.
"Boss, aren’t you going to see Chief Engineer Shaw?"
The assistant called out, chasing after him.
Levin Sawyer grunted in affirmation. "Go buy me the most expensive suit you can find, and get me a stylist."
The assistant was speechless.
’Why do I get the feeling the boss is going on a date?’
At five o’clock sharp, Vincent Grant appeared at the entrance of the Regal Restaurant.
Vincent Grant disliked the Regal’s nouveau riche style of decor. Everything was gaudily golden, utterly tasteless.
Normally, he wouldn’t even be willing to set foot inside.
But this was the place Sophia Shaw had chosen.
He strode in, a bouquet of flowers in his hand.
"Good evening, sir. Do you have a reservation?"
A waitress in a tight-fitting cheongsam strode over to greet him, her face wreathed in smiles.
The clientele at the Regal were usually pot-bellied, boorish bosses who’d made their money in mining or real estate; this was the first time she had seen a man as young, handsome, and seemingly tasteful as Vincent Grant.
The waitress’s eyes sparkled, and she blushed shyly.
Vincent Grant nodded. "It was booked by Miss Sophia Shaw."
The waitress quickly checked her records, then said with a beaming smile, "This way, please."
She led Vincent Grant to a glittering, golden private room. "This is our best room. Please, have a seat."
Vincent Grant placed the flowers on the table and sat down.
The Regal’s most expensive private room was called the ’Emperor’s Hall.’ The decor was tacky, and the name was even tackier.
Vincent Grant pursed his lips.
As he recalled, Sophia Shaw didn’t seem to like gaudy, glittering things. At least, the decorations in her home were all minimalist.
’Is she deliberately choosing this place to spite me?’
At that thought, Vincent Grant’s mood surprisingly improved.
If Sophia Shaw was still willing to go out of her way to spite him, it meant he still occupied a place in her heart.
"Welcome!"
Another overly enthusiastic voice sounded.
The waitress’s eyes nearly went blind from the dazzling sight.
’Why are all the customers today so high-quality?’
"Hello, sir, may I ask..."
"The Emperor’s Hall."
The waitress hurriedly pushed open the door. "Please."
Hearing the word "please," Vincent Grant instinctively picked up the flowers and stood up.
In the doorway stood Levin Sawyer, looking dashing in a white, custom-tailored suit.
His hair was styled into a state of perfect, slight disarray, creating the ultimate image of a lazy, rich young master.
Hands in his pockets, he walked toward Vincent Grant.
His sharp brows were slightly arched, a smile on his face.
He and Vincent Grant—one in white, one in black; one warm, one cold—formed a stark contrast inside the room.
The waitress looked from Levin Sawyer to Vincent Grant, her little heart thumping wildly at their every glance and smile.
"Oh, you brought flowers?"
Levin Sawyer, acting overly familiar, took the flowers from Vincent Grant’s hands.
"Thanks."
The waitress was speechless.
’This is...’
Vincent Grant watched as Levin Sawyer took the flowers and sat down across from him, acting as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The slight curve of Vincent’s lips silently flattened.
The light in his eyes suddenly dimmed.
"Miss, we have some private matters to discuss. Please leave and close the door behind you," Levin Sawyer said to the dazed waitress behind him.
The waitress just managed an "oh" before scrambling out and pulling the door shut.
She let out a dry laugh.
’My entire worldview is shattered.’
’No wonder such handsome men came to a place like this.’
’What a waste, what a waste.’
Inside, Vincent Grant’s gloomy gaze could have burned a hole through Levin Sawyer. "President Sawyer, care to explain?"
Levin Sawyer lazily plucked at the bouquet, pulling off petals one by one and putting one in his mouth. "Faye was getting bullied, and it’s all thanks to President Grant for stepping in so righteously. She’s not one for social obligations, so to express her utmost respect for you, I flew back from abroad specifically to treat you to this meal as a thank you."
With a THWACK, Levin Sawyer tossed the menu in front of Vincent Grant. "Order whatever you want, President Grant. It’s on me!"
The side of the menu facing Vincent Grant featured pictures of either turtle or porcupine, the garish golden images as jarring as the room’s decor.
"There’s no need." Vincent Grant stood up. "This is between me and Faye, and has nothing to do with President Sawyer."
"Oh, I can’t have that." Levin Sawyer blocked him. "Faye would be angry if she knew I didn’t treat President Grant with proper hospitality."
Levin Sawyer was constantly showing off his familiarity and intimacy with Sophia Shaw, and Vincent Grant’s fingers, hidden beneath his sleeves, couldn’t help but curl into fists.
Levin Sawyer couldn’t be bothered with him and instead grabbed a tablet to order, picking one dish after another.
As he ordered, he said, "You know, President Grant, if you hadn’t created trouble for me, forcing me to run off to god-knows-where to solve it, this business with Faye wouldn’t have required your intervention."
"You’re such a big shot, busy with a million things every day. Faye getting pregnant and giving birth weren’t big enough events to bother you, so why are you getting worked up now just because she was bullied a little?"
"It’s not like Faye hasn’t been bullied before. Compared to what she’s been through, this time was just a drizzle." ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
"And now that you’ve stepped in, she has to waste her time and money treating you to dinner, and even has to pretend to be grateful. It’s so tiring."
Levin Sawyer didn’t have a single nice thing to say; every sentence was barbed, ruthlessly stabbing at Vincent Grant.
In any other argument, Vincent Grant wouldn’t lose to Levin Sawyer. But when it came to the grievances Sophia Shaw had suffered, Vincent Grant had no confidence whatsoever.
He stood there in silence.
Levin Sawyer tapped away at the ordering tablet for a while, then called the manager over. "Get me a fresh soft-shelled turtle with eggs, steamed pig brains, and large intestines stuffed with black rice..."
The manager was speechless.
’Wow,’ he thought. ’This is just a stream of insults, isn’t it?’
’Turtle with eggs... a play on the curse for "bastard."’
’Pig brains... calling him an idiot.’
’Black rice in intestines... for being "black-hearted."’
’He really hit all the nasty ones.’
The manager wiped the sweat from his forehead and snuck a glance at Vincent Grant, terrified the two were about to start a fight.
Levin Sawyer had ordered the food, and it wasn’t the manager’s place to refuse.
Moments later, the dishes were brought out.
Levin Sawyer pushed the dishes toward Vincent Grant. "President Grant, enjoy your meal."
