Free Web NovelChapter 375: Chapter 373: Dirty Talk
Mia Grant said, "Oh." Choosing not to call him out on his jealousy, she dutifully reported, "It’s an ointment from Mr. Yuri Sinclair. He said it will prevent scarring. I just put it on."
She still wasn’t used to calling Yuri Sinclair "Father," so she always used his full name, politely adding "Mr." or calling him "Mr. Sinclair."
Hearing this, Silas Grant took off his coat and walked over. "Where’s the ointment? I want to see it."
Even though Yuri Sinclair was her biological father, Silas Grant was still wary.
Mia Grant picked it up from the table and handed it to him.
The man picked up the ointment and examined it. He realized it was a private concoction; the jar was completely bare, without even a name.
It looked just like an unlicensed product.
Mia Grant noticed him frown slightly, then make a phone call right in front of her.
’He’s probably calling his family doctor over.’
Mia Grant was completely baffled.
The person on the other end of the line arrived quickly. Mia Grant recognized him—it really was Silas Grant’s family doctor.
The doctor nodded politely in greeting, then put on a pair of gloves and took a sample from the small jar Silas had given him.
Mia Grant watched for a moment before she finally understood what they were doing.
Checking the ingredients.
At this realization, Mia didn’t find it absurd or ridiculous at all. In fact, she found it amusing.
Analyzing ingredients usually takes time, but this was Portia. Who wouldn’t do Silas Grant a favor?
Besides, the Hughes Corp had no shortage of hospitals and labs. Getting a few ingredients analyzed on a priority basis would take minutes.
The results came back quickly. Mia sat on the rug, deliberately pouting. Before Silas even had a chance to coax her, the results were in.
"There are no issues with the ingredients." The family doctor also listed a few precautions before checking the wound on Mia’s face. "Rest assured, Mr. Grant. As long as she’s careful not to scratch it when it scabs and applies the ointment on schedule, it won’t leave a scar."
A typical doctor wouldn’t give such a firm guarantee. There was always a chance something could go wrong, and no one could afford to be responsible for the consequences.
But Silas Grant never accepted ambiguous answers.
Talk of probability? In the face of power, such a concept didn’t exist.
There was only yes or no.
Only after receiving a definitive answer did Silas Grant magnanimously pat the doctor’s shoulder. "Thanks for coming. I hope I didn’t interrupt your date."
"Not at all. I had just dropped her off when I got your call. It’s no interruption."
Listening to their conversation, Mia Grant pouted.
’That old fox.’
’He knew the man might be on a date, but he still summoned him with a single phone call.’
’And now he’s feigning concern.’
A staff member saw the doctor out.
Because Silas wasn’t there this morning, he’d had a few staff members come over from the family estate to keep her company.
Silas paid the departing doctor no mind, immediately turning his attention to coaxing Mia.
"Come on, sit up here."
Silas bent down and lifted her onto the sofa. He’d noticed that Mia liked sitting on the floor.
’But the rug was just replaced this week. I wonder if they cut corners? It feels thinner than the last one.’
’It had also rained today, making it rather damp.’
’Too much dampness isn’t good for a girl.’
Mia didn’t struggle, simply letting him settle her into the sofa.
Winter in Portia was over, and Silas’s sofa had been changed out.
’Mia truly couldn’t comprehend the logic of the wealthy.’
’Changing the rug was one thing, but why did the sofa have to be changed with the seasons too?’
Before, she wouldn’t have dared to ask.
But now, ever since she and Silas had their confrontation, she had been acting with the fearlessness that comes from being the favorite. She’d become completely brazen.
It was happening right now. She prodded his knee with her bare foot, gave it a little kick, and asked, "Why did you change the sofa?"
"The last one was fine for autumn and winter, but it would be too hot now."
Silas himself rarely stayed here; recently, he had been spending most of his time at the family estate.
The manor couldn’t be left empty all the time.
He only stayed the night here when Mia came over.
So, changing the furniture, the rug, and the decorations—it was all for her comfort.
He wanted her to be content with every aspect of her life—from what she ate and wore to where she lived—so he tried his best to cater to her preferences in every little detail.
Of course, if she felt comfortable enough to stay a few extra days, that would be even better.
Unfortunately, a certain someone didn’t seem to get the hint.
Silas Grant grabbed her fidgeting ankle. His fingers caressed the joint before brazenly stroking the top of her foot.
Her skin was cool to the touch. He frowned, seemingly displeased by the sensation.
Mia’s foot felt ticklish, and she tried to pull it back. "Why are you touching my foot? You’re being such a pervert."
Silas gave her a long look, a helpless, exasperated smile playing on his lips. "Touching your foot makes me a pervert? Then when I’m touching our Mia elsewhere, how come all you can do is whimper my name?"
"..."
Mia was speechless, and the look in her eyes changed in an instant.
Silas earned a fierce glare and another hard kick to the knee.
But anyone who knew her would know that only a small part of it was anger; most of it was coquettish embarrassment.
She was probably thinking of some... indescribable scenes from the past.
Even her cheeks were tinged with a flush of crimson.
The ointment on her wound gave off a faint fragrance. From a distance, the crimson flush spreading around the cut looked just like a magnolia blossom on a branch.
Silas had only ever seen magnolias in Jynsia, because a few old trees grew in the Grant Family’s courtyard. Every spring, their petals would bloom—white with a hint of pink, delicate and pure.
With just one look, Silas’s hand, still holding her ankle, began to wander slowly upward, as if carefully tracing a branch.
From her ankle to her calf, it paused briefly, like a weary traveler resting for a moment before continuing its ascent to the summit.
Feeling a tickle on the soft flesh of her inner thigh, Mia subconsciously pressed her legs together.
In the next moment, the figure before her descended, pinning her to the sofa.
Her legs were forced apart, not by his legs, but by his troublemaking hand.
’He was so strong. Her two legs were no match for his one hand.’
’Mia couldn’t help but think of her dream of him swinging a club, the veins bulging on the back of his hand and arm. It had looked menacing at first glance, making him seem so fierce.’
’But for some reason, it had drawn her in, making her want to reach out and touch it.’
Silas Grant looked down and met her unfocused eyes.
He gave the soft flesh of her thigh a gentle squeeze.
Mia drew in a sharp breath.
She snapped back to her senses and met the man’s eyes, which were crinkled in a sly, fox-like smile. "What are you doing?"
’Nothing good ever happened when he smiled at her like that.’
’He was probably going to be very rough with her.’
’But not rough in the conventional sense...’
’His actions would be rough, yet he’d still smile gently at her, feigning concern as he asked how she felt, putting on a show of extreme guilt.’
"What are you thinking about so intently?"
The smile on the man’s face remained perfectly proper.
Mia stared at his smile, mesmerized, and the first words out of her mouth were:
"I was wondering if you were perverted enough to try a little dirty talk."
