My Reborn Admirer Wins Over My Heart (Oriana) novel Chapter 55

**TITLE: He Returned to Break and Own Me and for His Queen**

**Chapter 55: The Tense Atmosphere**

A heavy silence enveloped the room, pressing down like a thick fog.

Grant’s complexion drained of color, a stark contrast to the flush of anger visible in his clenched fists, which were balled tightly on the table’s surface. The tension radiating from him was palpable, as if he were a coiled spring, ready to snap.

In an attempt to defuse the mounting pressure, Alaric quickly plastered on a conciliatory smile, his tone light and hopeful. “Shall we get back to business then, Jett?” he suggested, his eyes darting between the two men, searching for a glimmer of agreement.

Jett, eager to smooth over the rough edges of the moment, nodded in agreement. “Alright, let’s discuss optimizing technical support,” he chimed in, his voice steady, yet laced with an undercurrent of apprehension.

With Alaric and Jett now steering the conversation, the sharp tension in the air began to dissipate, if only slightly.

Alaric launched into an enthusiastic overview of their company’s achievements and the technical advancements they had made. His passion was infectious, and even Grant, despite his simmering anger, found himself momentarily captivated by the progress they had accomplished. At strategic intervals, Grant interjected with specialized insights, his expertise shining through, even as his frustration simmered just below the surface.

Jett nodded continuously, clearly impressed by the duo’s presentation. The nationwide AI boom was a topic that excited all of them, and as representatives of the authorities, they felt a responsibility to guide the public toward the correct and active use of AI, opening up a world of new possibilities.

Aurora, with its burgeoning user base and low barriers to entry, represented an ideal direction for their ambitions. It was a platform poised to revolutionize the industry.

What stood out most to Jett was Grant’s team’s clarity of purpose, from Aurora’s inception to its meteoric rise. They had actively sought collaboration with the authorities, a proactive stance that Jett found commendable.

Turning his gaze toward Micah, Jett sought his opinion. “Mr. Caldwell, what do you think?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

Micah’s response was succinct and blunt. “Not suitable.”

“Mr. Caldwell?” Jett’s brow furrowed, sensing the storm brewing in the air.

This time, Grant could no longer contain his agitation. He slammed his palms down on the table, rising to his feet with a fierce intensity that filled the room. “If Mr. Caldwell has personal issues with me, he can express them directly. There’s no need to intertwine personal feelings with business,” he declared, his voice a low growl, accusing Micah of failing to differentiate between private grievances and professional discourse.

“Mr. Holloway, you seem far too self-assured,” Micah retorted, a low, mocking laugh escaping him, as if he found Grant’s bravado amusing.

“Our research center doesn’t tailor solutions for others, Mr. Holloway. If you wish to achieve something without investment, you’d be better off looking elsewhere.” His tone was icy, each word deliberate and cutting.

Grant’s expression hardened, a storm brewing in his eyes. “Preposterous,” he snapped, frustration boiling over.

Alaric turned to Jett, desperation creeping into his voice. “Jett, Mr. Caldwell must have misunderstood us,” he pleaded, hoping to salvage the situation.

As Micah had pointed out, their plan was essentially to reap rewards without any investment, a high-stakes gamble that could either catapult them to success or lead to their downfall. The potential for Aurora to become the leading platform, both nationally and globally, was tantalizing. If they achieved that, ownership would provide them with the capital and leverage to dictate the terms.

Grant sank heavily into his chair, the weight of defeat pressing down on him. He reached for the bottle of wine that had been left open, raising it to his lips and draining most of it in one swift motion, the liquid burning his throat as it went down.

Damn it, he thought bitterly, never had he felt so utterly defeated. At his current level of success, he was accustomed to being treated with respect, not scorn. Yet this man, Micah, seemed to possess an uncanny ability to undermine him at every turn, an adversary who thrived on his discomfort.

Grant took another swig, narrowing his eyes and letting out a cold laugh. “He’s about our age. Do you really think he possesses that much capability?” he scoffed, skepticism dripping from his words.

“Honestly, I’m starting to doubt it,” Alaric admitted, scratching his head in frustration. “Look at him—cold, distant, he seems like a complete loser. But if he weren’t capable, how could he hold the position of chief director at the research center? Or be the youngest AI chip engineer in the industry?”

In Alaric’s world, only one person was worthy of admiration—Grant himself.

Grant indeed had talent—Alaric had witnessed it firsthand. But he had never seen the full extent of Mr. Caldwell’s abilities. The man was shrouded in an air of mystery; the projects and results from the research center were confidential, leaving no way to verify if his skills matched the lofty rumors that surrounded him.

And that subtle arrogance of his, coupled with the way he flaunted his seemingly perfect married life, grated on Grant’s nerves even more.

“Just another capital heir, wrapped in wealth and power, living in a glorified bubble. Born with a silver spoon—what can’t they do?” Grant scoffed coldly, his disdain evident.