Love’s Cruel Stroke

Chapter 41



Chapter 41 A Proposition

Rachel pulled the car door open and slid into the driver’s seat. She was just about to start the car when the door on the passenger’s side was pulled open.

Jordan ducked into the car, looking insouciant and at ease as if he was getting into his own vehicle.

A sarcastic smile plastered itself on Rachel’s face as she asked, “What is the meaning of this, Mr. Ford?”

“Could you drop me home? My car broke down.” He settled into his seat and added indifferently, “I promise it’d be worth your while.”

She let go of the steering wheel and eyed him coolly, then drawled, “I’m sure the Yates will be more than happy to drop you home. Should I call Shirley for you and see if she can’t sort out a ride?”

“Are you that afraid to be alone with me?” Jordan suddenly leaned forward, his handsome face now mere inches away from Rachel’s.

Their breaths intermingled, and the air abruptly thickened with unspoken sentiments and strange tension.

Rachel gulped and tried to calm her wildly beating heart. Feigning nonchalance, she turned away from him and gripped the wheel again, then said, “Seeing as you saved my daughter during the Sinclairs’ banquet the other day, I suppose I will do you the favor and give you a ride home, Mr. Ford.”

With that, she started the car and pulled away from the curb. Soon, they were cruising steadily down the road.

Jordan noticed that she had a tendency to go to the right whenever she was driving, which was evidence of her long stay abroad.

He took an inexplicable interest in the past four years of her life, but she had her guard up against him, and he knew she wouldn’t answer any of his questions.

He leaned into his seat and asked flatly, “I was actually hoping to talk to you about a collaboration.”

She didn’t spare him even a sideways glance and merely kept driving. “Let’s hear it, then, Mr. Ford.”

“Ford Inc. is diversifying, and we have our eyes set on crafting a niche market out of the automobile industry. I’ve always wanted to combine microchip technology and cars to fully realize the concept of a smart car.” He spoke in cool tones, his voice filling the car. “But there aren’t a lot of developers in the country who could come up with the artificial intelligence microchip that our company is looking for. I’ve had this idea for two years now, but I can’t set the wheels of it in motion. So, I was wondering if you’d be interested in collaborating with us?”

Rachel narrowed her eyes. “Did you have someone look into my background, Mr. Ford?”

No one outside the Sinclair Family knew of her work in microchip development. Granted, Tiana could be tactless, but she wouldn’t blab about Rachel’s work and the trade secrets it involved. The only reasonable explanation as to why Jordan had such insight was that he had looked into her background prior to this.

“You’re overthinking this, Miss Yates. Why would I have someone investigate you?” Jordan appraised her with his hawk-like gaze. “Sure, you’re gorgeous, and you live up to your reputation as Seaview City’s Aphrodite, but that doesn’t warrant an investigation on my part.”

Rachel pursed her lips. She didn’t think he would know about her work in microchip development without sleuthing.

“Ford Inc. was recruiting talented programmers abroad when a student by the name of Rachel Yates was recommended to me by a professor from Harvard University,” Jordan elaborated. “Rachel Yates, the programming genius’ was exactly how the Harvard professor described you. I’m going to assume that you are the programming genius he wouldn’t stop praising?”

Rachel flushed in embarrassment. As it turned out, she had indeed read too much into this. Crap, am I paranoid? She cleared her throat and said, “I think your idea is a fascinating one, but I’m going to need to see the relevant documents before I can consider collaborating with you.”

For the past two days, she had been going over plans to set up a workshop, and it was admittedly a good thing that an opportunity for collaboration had presented itself. However, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this man was bad news.

She had been cautious in everything she did ever since she became a mother to two children. She was plagued by the constant fear that something terrible might happen if she put her guard down for even a moment. As things were, she had way too much to lose.

“Ford Inc. is a titan in the industry with a full-fledged commercial system. A collaboration with us doesn’t come with the usual risks one might encounter with, say, any average company,” Jordan went on to say, sounding persuasive. “That said, if you decline for any reason at all, then I will respect your decision as well.”

She gripped the steering wheel and kept her eyes ahead as she drove down the road in silence, but she was secretly considering the offer. She had done her research on the dynamics of the business world in Seaview City, and she knew that Ford Inc. reigned supreme. Working together with the company would be equivalent to riding on the back of a commercial titan, and once she was on board, she would spend the rest of her days raking in money.

But all things aside, there was no telling why Jordan had decided to recruit her for the smart car project. Just because the Harvard professor recommended me? That doesn’t make sense. I’m not the only one who is talented in microchip development; I rank third place at best.

She was consumed by her thoughts, and she seemed to be functioning on autopilot when she pulled up outside the Ford Manor. The manor was situated within the hills, and while the three-story bungalow wasn’t large by any means, the swimming pool, expansive gardens, and playground features took up no less than a thousand square meters.

This truly was a mansion.

“Mr. Ford, I’ll consider working together with Ford Inc. and I’ll let you know my decision in three days’ time,” Rachel said as her lips curled into a polite smile.

Jordan nodded and opened the door. “In that case, I shall await your good news with bated breath.” He stepped out of the vehicle and began making his way up to the house.

Rachel was about to pull out of the driveway when she noticed the black men’s wallet on the passenger seat. Jordan was the only one who had sat in her car, so the wallet had to be his. Grabbing it, she got down from the car and cried out after him, “Mr. Ford, you dropped your wallet!”

On the second floor of the house, Damian was reading when he suddenly picked up on a familiar voice.

His eyes widened, and he barreled out to the balcony to take in the scene below. Sure enough, there was a woman dressed in a beige suit standing at the first-floor doorway. She was smiling, and she seemed to dazzle in the sunlight.

The storm cloud that had been hovering over Damian for the last few days instantly cleared. Elated, he ran out of his room and bolted down the stairs.

Joe thought his wizened heart might fall straight through his stomach when he saw the little guy hurtling down the steps without care. Chasing after him, the butler cried out, “Young Master Damian, please stop running and come back! Master is already home, and if you run out now, there’s no telling how angry he will be!”

Alas, at Joe’s old age, he couldn’t keep up with the rambunctious little boy.

Damian, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about how incensed his father would be. All he knew at that moment was that he must see Rachel, and that he couldn’t let this chance slip out of reach.

Meanwhile, Rachel had only just handed the wallet over to Jordan when suddenly, a dumpling of a boy practically threw himself at her and wrapped his arms around her leg.

Then, with the force of what she imagined was akin to a baby monkey’s, the little boy crawled up the length of her body and burrowed into her embrace, his little arms wrapping tightly around her neck as he whined and whimpered, “You’re finally here to see me, Miss Rachel!”

Rachel was frozen, and she didn’t snap out of her initial shock until a few seconds later. As the sobbing child clung to her like a baby koala, she shot Jordan a bewildered look and mouthed, “What’s wrong with your son?”

Joe finally made it out the front door, and he was breathless as he reached for Damian. “I’m sorry, Master; I failed to keep an eye on Young Master Damian, and he rushed out. Here, I’ll bring him up to his room right now.”

However, the little guy seemed intent on sticking to Rachel, for he showed no signs of releasing his hold on her.

Worried that tugging on the child would only hurt him, Joe dared not forcefully pull him apart from Rachel, and the poor man was already breaking out in cold sweat.

At the sight of this, Rachel kept her tone firm as she pointed out, “Damian, you’re pulling on my hair.”

It was only then that Damian loosened his grip as though he had touched something hot, and when he looked up at Rachel, his large doe-eyes were filled with guilt.


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