Chapter 330: Taken Home by Him
Quentin Blackwood said, "Gideon Gordon is dead. It happened this morning, at the hospital."
Ivy Sherwood had just seen Gideon Gordon yesterday—the man who had tried to kill her.
Although Elijah Hawthorne had shot Gideon Gordon twice, neither wound was fatal. He was taken to the hospital for emergency treatment yesterday. The surgery should have gone fine, so how did he end up dead?
"Anna Nash did it." This wasn’t a question from Ivy Sherwood; it was a statement of fact.
Besides Anna Nash, Ivy Sherwood couldn’t think of anyone else who would want Gideon Gordon dead. If he had lived, the fact that Anna had hired a hitman would likely be exposed.
Moreover, the man was possibly the father of the child in Anna Nash’s womb. His very existence meant he knew too much about her.
This was the perfect opportunity to eliminate Gideon Gordon, and in a way that would be perfectly clear to the Blackwood Family. Perhaps the Blackwoods even had a hand in it.
And just like that, there was one less person who knew Anna Nash’s secrets.
’This woman is truly ruthless.’
Gideon Gordon probably never would have dreamed that after helping Anna Nash so much, he would be disposed of by her so directly.
’If Gideon Gordon had succeeded back then, I would be dead, and he would have been arrested for murder. Anna Nash would have then found a way to eliminate him, and no one in the world would ever know her secret.’
Ivy Sherwood quickly saw through Anna Nash’s plan. ’The Blackwood Family is so blessed to have married a woman like her.’
’It seems the Blackwood Family might really be finished.’
"Will this cause trouble for Elijah Hawthorne?" Ivy Sherwood asked.
After all, Elijah Hawthorne was the one who fired the gun. Now that the man was dead, would Elijah be considered a murder suspect?
And the only reason Elijah Hawthorne had fired his gun was to protect her.
If something happened to him, Ivy Sherwood would feel terrible.
"He won’t be," Quentin Blackwood said. "If he got dragged down by something this minor, Elijah Hawthorne wouldn’t have gotten to where he is. You don’t need to worry about him."
"Okay."
"Call me when you’re done. I’ll come pick you up."
"No, don’t. That’s too much trouble. I’ll get back on my own."
Quentin Blackwood didn’t say anything else. After hanging up, Ivy Sherwood went straight to the location she had an appointment to view for her new store.
She needed to look at a few places today, all inside large shopping malls. The foot traffic here was high, but so was the rent.
After checking the locations and finding no issues, Ivy Sherwood signed the contracts with them.
With just a simple renovation, the Iris brand would have a presence here.
’It used to feel like a dream, creating my own brand. Now, in just a few short months, my chain of stores has even expanded to Aethelgard.’
’If Mom knew, would she be happy for me too?’
Besides looking at storefronts, Ivy Sherwood also went to see an office building. Since she wanted to expand into Aethelgard, it wasn’t enough to just open a store; establishing a branch office here was also essential.
Ivy Sherwood had already made the arrangements before arriving. The only thing was that it was a bit far out, not in the city center.
But Ivy wasn’t set on a downtown location. On the contrary, many of their Perfumers needed inspiration, so a place like this would work just fine.
It was a five-story building, and Ivy Sherwood leased the entire thing, signing the contract and paying the rent on the spot.
Edie and some other employees would be arriving tomorrow to help. There was still a lot of work to do here. She needed to hire a lot of people; marketing, sales, and all the other departments had to be set up.
Thinking about all the work that lay ahead, Ivy Sherwood realized she would have to stay here for a while.
When she was more or less finished, Ivy Sherwood came out of the building. A glance at the time showed it was already past nine o’clock.
It was time to head back. She was a little tired.
There were no new messages on her phone; Quentin Blackwood hadn’t texted her. ’Is he still busy, or is he angry because I told him not to pick me up this afternoon?’
Just then, a luxury car pulled up in front of Ivy Sherwood.
The window rolled down, and the profile of the man in the driver’s seat was shrouded in the dim light, but Ivy Sherwood recognized him at once.
"President Blackwood, what a coincidence."
"Not a coincidence. I’ve been waiting for you for a long time."
Ivy Sherwood pulled open the passenger door. "I feel bad making President Blackwood my chauffeur. But how did you know I was here?"
Quentin Blackwood said, "I heard your plans for today yesterday, and I figured you might sign the contract here at the end."
"That just goes to show how smart Mr. Blackwood is! So handsome and so intelligent!" Ivy Sherwood laid on a thick layer of flattery.
"Your flattery skills are far worse than others’."
Ivy Sherwood looked at him with a smile. "Is that so? How do others do it, then?"
"How would I know? But it’s definitely not as superficial as yours."
"This isn’t superficial! It’s all from the bottom of my heart, straight from my soul. I’m deeply impressed by how President Blackwood’s mind works differently from others, and I’m deeply grateful that he took the time out of his busy schedule to pick me up. It must be my good luck! I must have been incredibly kind in my past life to meet such a wonderful man as Mr. Blackwood!"
"Alright, alright. Are you praising me or praising yourself?" Quentin Blackwood said dismissively, but the smile on his face didn’t fade in the slightest.
"So you’re not angry anymore?"
"Why would I be angry?"
"I thought you were angry because I told you not to pick me up this afternoon. It seems I was being petty, judging a gentleman by my own small-minded standards."
"Have you eaten dinner?"
Ivy Sherwood shook her head. She had been too busy to even think about eating.
"I wonder if you’ve eaten yet? Would I be so lucky as to have the honor of inviting you to dinner tonight?" Ivy Sherwood asked.
"What do you want to eat?"
Ivy Sherwood shook her head. "I’m fine with anything. I’m not a picky eater. I’m very easy to feed!"
Quentin Blackwood glanced at the watch on his wrist. At this hour, it was already past dinnertime.
Quentin Blackwood picked up his phone, sent a message, and then started the car.
Ivy Sherwood was a little tired. She hadn’t rested much last night, and today had been a long, busy day.
She leaned back in her seat, originally just planning to close her eyes for a moment, but she ended up falling asleep.
When Ivy Sherwood woke up, she found she was being carried.
"Hmm?" Ivy Sherwood rubbed her eyes, and the first thing she saw was a chin, its strong jawline absolutely perfect.
Quentin Blackwood was carrying her, walking forward and into an elevator.
"Sorry, I was a bit tired and fell asleep. Why don’t you put me down? I can walk on my own." Ivy Sherwood looked at her surroundings; they appeared to be in an elevator.
"We’re almost there."
"Did I sleep for a long time? Are we going to a restaurant? Won’t it be closed this late?"
"We’re not going to a restaurant. We’re going home."
"Home?"
Soon, the elevator doors opened, and only then did Ivy Sherwood see that this wasn’t a restaurant or a hotel. Quentin Blackwood had really brought her home.
Quentin Blackwood scanned his face, and the door opened.
This was the place where Quentin Blackwood usually lived, close to his company.
He had thought Ivy Sherwood would come straight here yesterday, but she had unexpectedly booked a hotel instead.
He knew she must be exhausted after such a busy day, so he had already planned to have someone come over to cook for them to eat at home.
"President Blackwood, dinner is ready." As soon as they entered, a chef was standing by the door.
Ivy Sherwood: "!!!"
Ivy Sherwood hadn’t expected anyone to be there. And she was still being held in Quentin Blackwood’s arms.