Mr. CEO, You Look Strangely Familiar

"What feud?"

"Her two sons killed my brother. The Grants gave my parents a lot of money and forbid them from letting the news spread online. My parents are afraid of Quentin Grant, so they just bit the bullet and suffered in silence to keep the peace. I didn’t know about it at first. I only found out after I went back home." Saphira Sutton’s face was ashen as she spoke.

"You’ve got to be kidding. Her two sons are just little kids, right? How could they kill a grown man like your brother?"

Saphira Sutton looked at him. "I’m not kidding. Their two sons are actually not that young. But they really did kill my brother. And not just my brother—four of his friends were killed along with him. Now my sister-in-law is left struggling to raise my nephew on her own."

Toby Dalton felt willing but powerless. "I’d love to kill him, believe me. But if I were capable of killing Quentin Grant, I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you right now."

"Don’t you want to get revenge on him?" Saphira Sutton sat up. "The Grant family is powerful, I know, but don’t you want to surpass them one day? To have him under your thumb? The reason I didn’t want to be with you in the first place was because you’re always someone’s subordinate. You were in the past, you are now, and you will be in the future!"

Seeing Toby Dalton’s face turn cold, Saphira Sutton pressed on, striking while the iron was hot. "Think about it. Quentin Grant completely ruined the plan you spent years working on. On top of that, your superiors in Harrowin are seriously displeased with you over this. If you make one more mistake, there’s no guarantee they won’t replace you and put someone else in your position. Why not build your own team? A force that even Harrowin would have to respect!"

"You think I don’t want to? But it’s easier said than done."

"That’s why you have to do it—because it’s not easy. If it were, everyone would have done it already. Also, there’s a reason I told you to put all your effort into finding an expert in the Disguise Technique. Just think about the advantages it would bring if you found one and made them work for you!"

"Do you think I don’t want them working for me? But someone that useful... Quentin Grant would have already hidden them away so well that you’d never find a single trace."

Hearing this, Saphira Sutton said, "Alright. For now, Toby, I won’t leave you. And I hope you can help me avenge my brother."

A chill crept into Toby Dalton’s heart. "If your brother hadn’t been killed by the Grants, would you have come back to me? Are you using me?"

Saphira Sutton remained noncommittal. ’If I hadn’t gone home and discovered that my brother had been killed by the Grants’ two sons long ago, I definitely wouldn’t have come back.’

"I admit, that’s one of the reasons. Another is that I found out someone was impersonating me by your side. It made me feel awful. I guess I really overestimated my own charm."

Her voice softened. Toby Dalton pulled her into an embrace, his hands roaming over her body. "How can I be sure you’re sincere about staying with me this time?"

"I’m willing to have your child to show you my sincerity. What do you think? Is that enough?"

Toby Dalton nodded and roughly pushed her down beneath him, using his knee to part her legs. At the critical moment, she stopped him. "You’ll help me, right?"

"I’ll do my best." ’I was never going to let Quentin Grant off the hook anyway,’ he thought. ’As for Nora Ainsworth and those two kids... I’ll see how it goes.’

Saphira Sutton released her grip and wrapped her arms around his neck, her red lips parting slightly, allowing him to enter her as he pleased.

That evening, another heavy rainstorm swept through Alveria.

In the summer, the weather was always so unpredictable.

Dinner was at the Grant Residence, and everyone was present.

Mrs. Grant seemed particularly cheerful. She kept clinking glasses with everyone and periodically apologized for her past behavior, even declaring that if Nora told her to die, she wouldn’t dare stay alive.

Jean Grant came downstairs as well. Nora Ainsworth looked at her and felt that she had truly changed.

She had a tranquil air about her, now carrying herself like a well-bred lady—smiling without showing her teeth, moving with unhurried grace, and speaking in a very gentle tone.

This version of Jean Grant didn’t just seem different to Nora Ainsworth; even Quentin Grant felt that something was off.

When everyone was nearly finished with their meal, Jean Grant put down her chopsticks and spoke. "Mom, Dad, Quentin, Sister-in-law, I plan to move into the Azure Cloud Temple tomorrow."

Her words stunned Quentin Grant and Nora Ainsworth. Quentin said, "Just stay here at home. It’s inconvenient there, you’ll have to do everything yourself, and life is very spartan."

"That’s right, Jean. Stay at home. Why do you have to go there?"

Jean Grant smiled. "I don’t think I’m suited to stay at home anymore. I want to live in a place like that, where I can draw my own water, chop my own firewood, and cook my own meals every day. Besides, I’ve done too many wrong things. I want to spend the rest of my life atoning for them quietly, by myself. My mind is made up, so please don’t try to stop me. I don’t have the courage to die, so if I’m going to live, I might as well find a quiet place to do it."

Mrs. Grant waved her hand dismissively. "Let her do what she wants. As long as she’s happy, we should support her decision."

"Thank you, Mom."

Mrs. Grant’s eyes grew moist. "What are you thanking me for? At least this way we won’t lose you completely. You living a good life is more important than anything."

Jean Grant nodded with a smile and went upstairs.

Nora Ainsworth followed her and stood at her door. "Jean, may I come in?"

"Come in, Sister-in-law."

Nora Ainsworth pushed the door open and walked in to find her sitting there, holding a book of scriptures. Her expression was serene, as if she were devoid of all emotion.

"Jean, have you lost all hope in life?"

Jean Grant put down the book and looked at her. "You could say that. I don’t even have the courage to go on living anymore. My STD was just recently cured... Nicholas Ainsworth gave it to me. When I look back on my past now, I just feel that I’m pathetic, pitiful, and even detestable. I don’t know what kind of emotions led me to become who I am today. I was a poor judge of character, my marriages were a disaster... I have terrible luck with men. They’ve all been bad. I’d be better off spending the next few decades alone. There’s a certain freedom in that."

"As long as you feel at peace with your decision, that’s all that matters."

"My brother loves you very much. I feel that men like him are rare, after all. You should marry him soon."

Nora Ainsworth pressed her lips together. "I prefer to let things happen naturally. You should get some sleep. Your brother and I will be heading back soon, too."

"Sister-in-law..."

Nora Ainsworth turned back. "Yes?"

"I was awful in the past... For all the wrong things I did, you have to forgive me..."

"Don’t worry, I don’t even remember them. We’re family."

Jean Grant nodded. "Yes, we’re family."

Nora Ainsworth left the room, her heart heavy. ’Such a beautiful young woman, about to renounce the world and become a nun.’

’She was young and reckless, refusing to listen to anyone’s advice, and she made many mistakes. But deep down, she wasn’t a bad person. It was just that one thing after another caused her to lose her way, sending her down a road of no return.’

’But maybe this isn’t so bad. To be alone, to live simply, to think of nothing else, to be self-reliant, and to seek tranquility.’

Jean Grant opened the laptop on her desk, logged into her MSN account, and in the status message field, she typed one word: Serena.

This was her new Dharma name. She had gone to the Azure Cloud Temple earlier that day, and the abbess had given it to her.

From now on, her world would be a tranquil sky.

Night quickly turned to day.

The Grants personally accompanied Jean Grant to the Azure Cloud Temple.

The abbess asked her several times if she was certain, and each time, her answer was yes.

The abbess suggested she could practice as a lay follower without shaving her head, but Jean Grant insisted on being fully ordained, which required tonsure. It was a sign of her resolve.

And so, the abbess presided over her ordination ceremony.

Jean Grant sat cross-legged as the abbess personally shaved her head.

Long strands of black hair fell to the floor, gradually piling up. Watching this, Mrs. Grant, Mr. Grant, and Quentin Grant all felt their hearts ache.

But Jean Grant kept a smile on her face until the very end of the ceremony.

She had truly entered the Buddhist path, becoming a disciple of the faith.

After leaving the Azure Cloud Temple, Mrs. Grant collapsed on the ground, wailing uncontrollably.

After crying for a long while, she stood up, dusted herself off, and said with red-rimmed eyes, "Let’s go."

Nora Ainsworth tightly gripped Quentin Grant’s hand, following Mr. and Mrs. Grant down the mountain.

But just as their car reached the gates of the Grant Residence, the butler rushed out. "Sir, Madam, it’s terrible! When Old Mrs. Grant heard the news about the Young Miss becoming a nun, she fainted on the spot! The situation is critical."

Mr. and Mrs. Grant exchanged a look and hurried toward the living room.

Quentin Grant and Nora Ainsworth followed.

The family doctor had already arrived and was administering treatment. But after a brief examination, the doctor stood up and shook his head at Mr. Grant. "Old Mrs. Grant was already advanced in age and suffering from a serious illness. She had only just recovered enough to sit up for a few days. This shock was too much for her. I’m afraid she won’t make it. She has less than an hour."

Instantly, the atmosphere in the room grew heavy.

"Don’t let Jean know about this yet," Mr. Grant said. "Otherwise, I’m afraid she’ll be consumed with guilt and something else will happen..."

Mrs. Grant nodded. "I know."

"Have someone start preparing for the funeral." After saying this, Mr. Grant sat down by the bed and called out softly, "Mom?"

The old woman opened her eyes, her cloudy pupils completely devoid of life.

She seemed to want to say something but couldn’t. Her lips moved, but in the end, she gave up trying to speak.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later, Old Mrs. Grant drew her last breath.

The Grant Residence was filled with the sound of weeping.

After the obituary was sent out, a question lingered in Quentin Grant’s mind. He finally picked up the phone and called Secretary Lynch. "Go and find out who leaked the news of Jean’s ordination to the media."

’Normally, the media has to get my approval before publishing any major news. Who on earth released this story first?’

"Understood."

After hanging up, Quentin Grant began arranging the funeral.

「 」

The three fire-damaged rooms on the second floor of the Ainsworth house had been repaired. Seeing the news, Sharon Ainsworth was practically mad with joy. "HAHAHA! I can’t believe it! Jean Grant actually ran off to become a nun! This is a miracle! The heavens are smiling down on me!!!"

Ever since Catherine Callahan had left, Mr. Ainsworth had been listless. He couldn’t get in touch with her no matter what. Hearing what his daughter said, he was incredulous. "Became a nun?"

"Yeah, Dad, it’s all over the news! It says Jean Grant has lost all hope in life after two failed marriages and two bastard men... Men? Ugh, what bastard men?! Is my brother a bastard? Don’t you dare lump my brother in with that scumbag ex-husband of hers!" Sharon Ainsworth shouted angrily.