Chapter 307

Hannah's skin on the side of her neck ached from Vincent's grip, and she instinctively twisted, trying to shake his hand off her neck.

It wasn't until he'd coldly uttered the word, "Give me an explanation," that she understood. He was mad at her for standing him up yesterday. Her racing thoughts snapped into place. Vincent had taken her absence as a personal offense, and now he was reacting with cold, irrational fury. For a man used to being in control,maybe it was the first time someone had dared stand him up. His anger, in that light, made sense.

"I'm sorry," Hannah said, her voice even and steady as she met his eyes. "There was an emergency yesterday, and I... I had to deal with it quickly. I forgot to let you know. That was my fault-I admit to that."

Vincent's eyes held no warmth, only an icy sharpness that cut through her words. This wasn't the explanation he wanted. His voice lost all trace of softness as he hammered out the question. "Were you with Claude last night?"

"How do you know?" Hannah blurted.

Her question was tantamount to an admission-admitting that she had indeed spent the entire night with Claude.Vincent said nothing. The storm in his gaze didn't explode-it collapsed inward, swallowed by a deathly stillness that chilled the place.

The air turned heavy, frozen in silence.

Then, without a word, Vincent stepped forward and seized her wrist. His grip was just as firm as before,laced with finality and silent command. "Come with me." His voice was low, but its quiet edge left no room for refusal.

Pain shot through Hannah's wrist as he dragged her forward. She resisted. "Where are we going?"

"To make up for last night's missed dinner." He didn't even glance back. His voice was flat,almost mechanical, like he was stating an order, not giving a reason.

Hannah frowned at the absurdity. "I've already eaten!"

Vincent stopped. He turned slightly, but the shadows veiled his expression. "So what?" he retorted, his tone detached, as if they were discussing the weather. It wasn't a question. It was a declaration.

Without acknowledging her protests, he kept walking, dragging her straight toward the car parked at the center.

The bodyguard had already opened the door for Vincent, while the driver stood silently nearby.

Vincent shoved her into the spacious back seat and climbed in after her.

The door shut with a dull thud, closing them off from the world outside.

He didn't spare her-or anyone else-a single glance. He nodded to the bodyguard waiting outside the window, instructing him, "Park her car."

"Yes, Mr. Jones!" the bodyguard responded immediately.

The engine purred to life, and the car slipped smoothly into the flow of traffic.

Outside the window, the scenery raced by in a blur. Inside the car, the atmosphere was so heavy that it felt like the air had thickened.

Both Hannah and Vincent turned to gaze out the window, neither willing to break the silence.

But the vehicle didn't head toward any restaurant. Instead, it came to a halt in front of a grand manor.

As soon as the car stopped, uniformed staff-already stationed by the entrance-stepped forward promptly,opening the doors with practiced deference for Vincent and Hannah.

Vincent's grip on Hannah's arm was firm, unrelenting. Hannah found herself half-led, half-dragged out of the car.

She scanned the unfamiliar surroundings, her brows drawing together in confusion. "I thought we were going out to eat.What is this place?"

Vincent's eyes briefly flicked across her face, his tone flat.′′Anew home." Inside the expansive, open-plan dining room, a long table had been elegantly set for two.

Vincent walked to the head of the table and pulled out a chair. "Sit."

Hannah drew a slow breath. Escape wasn't an option right now. For the time being, it was safer to comply.

She took her seat. Vincent settled into the chair across from her.

Dinner began in thick, suffocating silence.

Hannah had no appetite. She picked up her knife and fork, but merely moved the food around her plate,never bringing a bite to her mouth.

Vincent, by contrast, appeared genuinely focused on his meal, eating with composed ease.

Hannah's gaze settled on his face. Her thoughts drifted to the financial headlines from the previous night.Breaking the silence, she spoke. "Didn't the Jones Group make the news last night? There were rumors about internal power struggles."

She picked up a napkin and dabbed the corner of her mouth with careful grace. "In a situation like that, Mr.Jones,how do you have the luxury to sit here and dine so leisurely? I assumed you'd be buried in meetings."

Vincent's hand paused briefly over his plate, the knife mid-slice-barely a second of hesitation. "It was nothing serious.Already handled." His deep voice was calm, unreadable.

Hannah was surprised. With its astounding sums and dubious activities, the crisis that had shaken the Jones Group last night was anything but "nothing serious." But Vincent had handled it quickly in a single morning with his means and resources.

Vincent wiped his mouth slowly with a tissue. "Now, it's my turn."