Grand Ancestral Bloodlines - Chapter 119: Without Lifting a Single Finger

In times of war…What is a Battle Mecha engineer expected to do? Are they expected to do research and realize their imagination?How about a Battle Mecha pilot? Are they expected to enter battle with their mechas as they display their exquisite control through bizarre and bewildering techniques?What about a member of the special scouts? Are they expected to infiltrate deep into the enemy lines as they use stellar unarmed fighting skills to suppress the enemy with a single move? Or are they expected to make use of disguises and stealth techniques to take out the enemy?And what about a military officer? Are they expected to analyze the outcome of a battle? Or are they expected to create brilliant strategies to triumph over the enemy through a miraculous move?For someone who excels in human psychology, deceit, assassination, and disguise, what happens when that person is merged with all those professions?This is the story of a cowardly, wretched, and despicable fatty.

“Block him.”“He's technically still my boss.”“Then block him with dignity.”The call ended again.And then started again.I let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a sob, then finally answered with the enthusiasm of a snail crawling through salt.“Yes, Mr. Walton?”“Have you changed your mind yet?”I collapsed onto the towel and gazed at the sky as though it might consume me entirely if I pleaded sweetly enough.“Do you ever take a break?” I asked, shielding my eyes with one hand.“You're avoiding the question.”“Because it's a dumb question.”He exhaled, the sound sharp and irritated even over phone. “It's not a dumb question. It's a business offer.”“It's a weird offer-one that I already said no to.”There was a brief pause, and I could practically hear him clenching his jaw through the speaker.“You are acting unreasonably.”“ Unreasonable?” I sat up. “I'm not the one drafting fake girlfriend contracts like it's a normal Tuesday.”“Isabella-”“Certainly not, Mr. Walton.” I mimicked his tone perfectly. “I told you I'm not doing it. You need to find someone else to play pretend with.”SYNOPSISIsabella Miller thought saying no to her boss’s fake dating offer was the end of the story.But Adrien Walton doesn’t take no—especially not when he’s convinced she’s a gold digger.Suddenly, her student loans are piling up, her father’s vet clinic is on the brink of eviction and her brother is about to be kicked out of college. Coincidence? She thinks not.Adrien Walton is calm, calculating—and he's just pulled every string to corner Isabella into the perfect position.Now she’s stuck choosing between pride and survival.So she agrees to his offer: be his fake girlfriend.No feelings attached. No drama. Just business.Or so she thought.“Conference Room B. Fifteen minutes,” he said, passing by without a glance.The folder he pushed across the table landed with a thud.I opened it. The contract. All of it.---Enemies to lovers? Check.Slow burn? Hmmnyea.Banter so sharp it might file your nails? Yes.Delicious workplace tension? Of course.Tension that could melt steel?Absolutely.Smut?? Wanna find out?Welcome to corporate romance warfare. There’s no escaping this contract.

18 years ago, she was a little rogue that had been pampered by him; 18 years later, he had reformed her into a little lamb. Boss Shen’s greatest pride was that he had successfully tamed a wild kitten into an obedient house cat.

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