The Year She Stopped Being Crazy for Him novel Chapter 53

"Cecily told me to come," she answered honestly.

The man's footsteps halted. His dark, piercing eyes locked onto her, his tone turning cold. "You don't need to come anymore."

After delivering the remark, he sat down to eat.

Natalie snapped a photo, sent it to Cecily, and turned to leave.

Hassan looked up. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"No." She had no desire to eat in this room. God only knew what they had just been doing in here. She found it repulsive.

Hassan spoke again. "Sit down and have a little. You're prone to low blood sugar."

Natalie stopped in her tracks. Her low blood sugar was a result of aggressive dieting for her ballet performances.

Now that she was no longer starving herself, the spells had vanished.

She glanced back at him. "I've already eaten."

"Natalie, what have you been busy with lately?" he asked, his eyes lowered in a feigned display of casual interest.

Natalie gave him a sidelong glance. "The dance troupe..."

He lifted his gaze, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows. "The offices and rehearsal studios for your dance troupe are empty."

Natalie followed his line of sight.

Located in the same bustling commercial district, the office and rehearsal space Quinn Harper had rented was directly across from the Carlson Group tower. Without the sun today, beneath a gloomy sky, the empty interior was clearly visible.

Natalie didn’t miss a beat. "Because I’m busy recruiting. I'm an investor now. Securing clients requires my attention, too."

"So you're running around doing a salesman's job every day? Not only are you not making a dime, but you're also throwing your own money and energy down the drain." His tone was dismissive. "Natalie, you're just being capricious."

Capricious.

Over the years, she had lost count of how many times she’d heard that word from him.

In the past, she could still nestle into his arms and proudly claim she was indeed capricious.

She nodded. "Yes."

Barely any emotion registered on his face, save for a fleeting, heavy shift in the corners of his eyes—so fast it felt like an illusion. His Adam's apple bobbed slowly, but he didn't make a sound.

His pitch-black eyes betrayed no ripples, leaving only a terrifying, dead silence. "Fine. You better not regret this."

He gripped the pen, but just as he was about to sign...

Natalie’s phone rang. Her pupils shrank when she saw the caller ID. She took the call and walked out. It was the hospital; Yvonne was throwing a fit, demanding to see Lemuel.

She looked back at Hassan. "Make sure I get a copy once you sign it."

When she rushed to the hospital, Yvonne was fiercely trying to discharge herself. She hurried over. "Grandma."

Yvonne looked fraught with worry. "I'm feeling decent right now. Let me go see your grandpa. It's been days. Didn't they say it was nothing serious? Why isn't he discharged yet?"

She pressed her lips together and explained, "He injured his bones, after all. You know what they say—it takes a hundred days to heal a broken bone. By the time you have your surgery, he should be fully recovered. Don't—"

"Natalie." Yvonne's voice abruptly shifted pitch, trembling. "Are you lying to me? Did something happen to your grandpa? You're just lying to me so I'll go into surgery with peace of mind, aren't you?"