Several individuals sat around the table while the server poured tea for each of them. Apologetically, he mentioned, “Mr. Dalton will be arriving shortly.”
These individuals were clearly more intrigued by the only woman present. “Mr. Russell, who is this lady?”
“My name is Alice,” Josie replied with just the right tone. However, what these individuals wanted to know was not just a mere title. From their intermittent conversations, Josie deduced the underlying cause.
There was a piece of land where Rivodia and Wavery intersected, and an ongoing dispute between the two sides, each vying for the land. In such a situation, it was inevitable for the key figures to come forward and negotiate.
Dexter’s gaze remained fixed on Josie. The hands she rested on her lap were no longer as delicate as they used to be, indicating the hardships she had endured over the past two years.
“Over the past two years, the Bastille family’s influence has indeed declined, while Mr. Dalton has been rising to prominence. It must have been quite challenging for all of you to navigate through this,” Dexter said, his words carrying deep implications.
Several people sighed. “It’s wonderful that you understand us, Mr. Russell, but we still have to fight for this piece of land.”
Dexter chuckled.
Soon, there was a commotion outside. The attendant entered first, followed by the important figure.
“Mr. Russell, we meet again.”
The voice of a middle-aged man, tinged with weariness, echoed through the room. Josie immediately looked up, her gaze landing on a tall man who had just entered. The man wore a mask that concealed his entire face. He stood before Dexter, slightly towering over him.
“Mr. Dalton.” The two of them shook hands.
“I heard that you haven’t brought a female companion to important events for a long time, Mr. Russell. This is indeed the first time in two years,” Wayne spoke in a teasing tone, then invited everyone to take their seats.
Josie noticed a very faint scar on his wrist, which was not easily discernible unless closely examined.
She narrowed her eyes.
“Alice, my assistant,” Dexter introduced.
Wayne stared at her, his gaze penetrating through the mask. “She’s beautiful.”
Josie felt a bit nervous. She felt as if she was back at the highway intersection years ago, with Arnold charging through the checkpoint with her.
At that time, Wayne had watched them through the rain.
The negotiation process was mostly handled by the staff. Conversations between Dexter and Wayne were much more casual, as if they were long-lost friends meeting again after a long time.
“Russell Group has grown significantly and has already stepped onto the international stage. Do they still need to compete with Rivodia for this piece of land?” Wayne pondered. “Over the past few years, while you’ve been away from the spotlight, the entire stage has been filled with tales of your legendary deeds.”
Dexter responded with a light and casual tone, “Isn’t it the same with you, Mr. Dalton? You’re on the verge of taking over the entire Bastille Group. Morgan’s position is about to be jeopardized. Why put yourself through this?”
The two exchanged a glance, their lips curving into meaningful smiles.
“Would Ms. Alice care for some top-quality chamomile tea?” Wayne suddenly changed the subject, looking towards Josie, who was deep in thought.
Josie regained her composure, her expression unchanged. “I don’t fancy drinking chamomile tea.”
This statement caused Dexter to slightly raise his eyebrows.
“Your outfit seems familiar to me,” Wayne said,
fiddling with the ring on his thumb.
The assistant behind him quickly added, “A while ago, Ms. Dalton insisted on wearing a gown. When we went to have it custom-made, we saw this gown. The salesperson said it was a special order for a distinguished guest, and it took a whole year to make.”
Wayne was struck by a sudden realization. “I never anticipated that you would be the one to wear it, Ms. Alice. It appears that you are not insignificant.”
Josie glanced at Dexter, taken aback by the unexpected backstory of such a plain dress.
“Ms. Dalton? Do you have a daughter, Mr. Dalton?” Josie smoothly transitioned to a new topic, concealing any emotions.
“She turned seven this year.”
It has been two years. She must be seven years old now.
“What a coincidence. I also have a daughter,” Josie remarked.
