Remarriage Failed Again Today

Chapter 368: Chapter 365: Wife, Don’t Leave Me Part 1

Annabelle Ainsworth?

Mr. Grant looked up, staring at her blankly.

Annabelle Ainsworth regarded him with a pleasant, elegant smile. "Mr. Grant, may I sit here?"

Only then did Mr. Grant snap back to his senses.

He looked at her coolly, his expression blank as he said, "Sit."

Annabelle Ainsworth sat down, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

For a few minutes, the atmosphere was subtly awkward.

Mr. Grant watched her impassively, realizing she really did look like Annabelle Linton.

But their spirit was different.

Annabelle Linton was the kind of woman with a chill carved into her very bones; her charm was expressed through her eyes and the indifferent air about her.

But the woman before him was always smiling... much like Annabelle Linton before she had changed. Except, Annabelle Linton’s smile had held a trace of shyness, while this woman’s was poised and gracious.

A faint, dazed look crossed Mr. Grant’s eyes.

’How wonderful would it be if Annabelle Linton had never changed?’

’But if she hadn’t changed, I probably would have kept hurting her just like before...’

Annabelle Ainsworth smiled and said gently, "You still remember me, don’t you, Mr. Grant? We met at the bar last time. To be honest, I wasn’t happy when my father told me to come on this blind date, but I never expected it would be with you. It seems we’re fated to meet."

Mr. Grant was silent for a moment before saying in a low voice, "Yes. What a coincidence."

’You look so much like her.’

Annabelle Ainsworth smiled again and said frankly, "We’re both here today for one purpose: marriage. I’m very satisfied with you, Mr. Grant, and I don’t think there’s any need to get to know each other further. What about you? What are your thoughts?"

Mr. Grant raised an eyebrow, a glint flashing in his eyes. "You’re very direct."

"My attitude depends on who I’m dealing with. I feel that you, Mr. Grant, are someone who can be approached directly, so naturally, I won’t beat around the bush." Annabelle Ainsworth smiled as she stirred the foam in Mr. Grant’s cup.

Mr. Grant never liked foam in his coffee.

He picked up the coffee and took a light sip, a faint smile on his lips. "Since we’re not beating around the bush, let’s be blunt." freewebnσvel.cѳm

"Hmm?"

"Your motive." Mr. Grant looked at her coldly. "What is your motive?"

He had been immersed in the business world for years and had long grown accustomed to its deception and backstabbing.

He didn’t believe it could be such a coincidence. A chance encounter at a bar was one thing, but then meeting again on a blind date? How could something so coincidental happen in this world? ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

Besides, she was about the same age as Annabelle Linton. Why would she need to go on a blind date?

’So what is her motive?’

Mr. Grant’s gaze grew even colder.

The woman smiled. After being called out, she showed not a trace of embarrassment. Instead, she looked at Mr. Grant with genuine admiration. "I’ve liked you since I saw you playing basketball on the court in the eighth grade. Is that a good enough explanation?"

"Hah." Mr. Grant let out a faint, cold laugh.

’Women who liked him were a dime a dozen. And now, even a woman who looks so much like her has appeared—one who even has a similar name.’

’He really wanted to pry open Annabelle Linton’s head and ask her just what she was thinking.’

Mr. Grant’s cool eyes swept casually across the room, then suddenly froze on a certain spot—

Annabelle Linton was sitting with a man at a table in the very back.

The man was wearing a black suit. Mr. Grant couldn’t see his face, only a faint impression of his back.

From behind, he had a refined, scholarly air—the kind that suggested a good upbringing.

He didn’t know what the two were talking about, but Annabelle Linton was smiling so much she couldn’t seem to stop. Her normally cool eyes were filled with mirth, so bright they were dazzling.

Mr. Grant was stunned for a moment. When he came to, his eyes turned cold, and his hands clenched into fists uncontrollably.

’Well done, Annabelle Linton. You’re really something else!’

’First there was Aaron Wyatt. Before him, Chase Lynch. And now some strange man. You’ve got so much nerve... why don’t you just open a brothel, huh?’