Madly Yours (Nora Reed) novel Chapter 461

The entire room went dead silent.

Arthur remained expressionless, looking as stoic as a wooden post.

But Archer and Olive reacted instantly, glaring daggers at Vincent, as if their eyes could burn holes right through him.

Hudson leaned back in his chair, taking his time to sip his tea before slowly raising his eyes.

"You into men?"

Vincent frowned slightly. "What kind of question is that? I don't swing that way."

His lips curled into a smirk as his gaze shifted back to Arthur, sizing him up once again. "A bodyguard that skilled and loyal? I wouldn't mind having one of my own. You've got plenty of muscle, and nobody dares mess with you in San Francisco anyway. Why not be generous?"

Hudson shot him a sidelong glance. "Just do us all a favor and stop being such a bastard."

Vincent wasn't offended. He leaned back, crossing his legs, and tapped his fingers lightly on the armrest.

"How about this? I'll grant the Lancaster Group an exception to the tech embargo, and I'll throw in another fifty million. Hand him over."

After a brief pause, he added, "Dollars."

A suffocating silence blanketed the room.

Everyone stared at Vincent like he was a complete lunatic.

Arthur frowned slightly, instinctively looking toward his boss, only to see a slow smirk spreading across Hudson's face.

"Vincent."

The air in the room seemed to freeze as everyone waited for his next words.

"Keep your hands off my people."

Vincent clicked his tongue, a half-smile playing on his lips. "Fine. I'll be going then."

He stood up, adjusted his suit jacket, and strolled leisurely toward the door. Right at the threshold, he paused, turning his head slightly with a mocking curve of his lips.

"I think I'll add a restriction on wafer fabrication to the embargo. Let's see how you plan to compete with me then."

But the Fairchilds were still ruled by Finnian's father, Henry Fairchild. Being called the "Heir" just meant he hadn't taken the throne yet—and he didn't have the final say.

Finnian's grip on his teacup tightened, though his face remained a mask of indifference.

Vincent let out a soft laugh, slid his sunglasses back on, and strode out the door.

His battered bodyguards scrambled up from the floor and limped after him. Despite looking pathetic, they still tried to maintain their intimidating formation.

Right at the doorway, Vincent paused again and tilted his head toward Nora.

With his sunglasses resting low on the bridge of his nose, those narrow, predatory eyes met hers as a smile touched his lips.

"Mrs. Lancaster, was it? You're welcome to visit Chicago anytime."

Nora was speechless.

After Vincent left, the private room fell into a long, heavy silence.

Jude traced the rim of his teacup, his gaze fixed on Finnian's dark expression. "That fountain pen... isn't that the one your father always uses?"