Remarried Wife: Mr. Ex, We Will Never Reconcile!-Chapter 58: Nina Sullivan: Ms. Sheridan, Were Your Ballet Shoes Also a Gift From Mr. Kane?
Outside, the rain drizzled incessantly, and the elegant courtyard gradually soaked in the moisture.
Ian Kane’s mood dampened along with it.
His mother’s voice, like rusty blades scraping across the eardrums, mingled with the sound of rain, carving open old wounds in his heart.
"Ian Kane, your dad’s dead! He went skiing in Valdania with his favorite mistress and your brother, the helicopter crashed into the mountain, they’re all dead! Serves him right, justice is served!"
"Ian, study hard and make your mom proud, they don’t even invite us to the New Year’s Eve dinner anymore!"
Ian Kane’s breathing became labored, closing his eyes brought back images from his childhood of the news reports about the accident in The Valdanian Mountains, the sound of firecrackers and laughter from the main house on New Year’s Eve...
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he heard the sound of luggage wheels rolling on the ground, snapping his eyes open, suppressing the panic and unease in his heart.
"Vera, in the past few days, we were clearly in love, very sweet, you were also very happy." He remained with his back to her, his tone devoid of sadness or joy, stating the facts.
Vera Sheridan was packing her phone charger, winding the cord into the storage case, her movements slowing as she listened to him.
The past few days had been the most relaxing and carefree since she suspected he might be cheating.
Last night, he carried her to the mountaintop.
Watching the sunset together, he said, "Honey, if we stay here in seclusion until we’re old, wouldn’t that be blissful."
She looked at the endless colorful clouds, a happy smile spreading from her lips to her heart.
"Let’s wait until we retire, retire, and then live here in seclusion together until we’re old." She replied foolishly.
Thinking back, he really could lie on a whim; clearly ambitious, yet he played the role of a love saint willing to give up everything, provoking her desire to save him.
He had ambition, a pursuit of power, but she understood; fighting with his grandfather and uncles until it was a bloody mess, she also understood, but what she couldn’t accept was him manipulating and scheming against her, creating those illusory deceptions for her.
Treating her like a pawn, a puppet to be cashed out, even a monkey to be toyed with.
Packing the storage box into a shoulder bag, she took her suitcase without looking back at him.
Ian Kane turned around, "Noah Grant said just a few words, and you negated all the good feelings towards me, only thinking I’m deceiving you, calculating against you. Can you say you don’t have any improper thoughts about him?"
Vera stopped, her gaze open and clear, "I can! I have no improper thoughts about him, it’s you fabricating things from nothing, falsely accusing me!"
"I’m not biased towards anyone, I only believe in facts."
She and Noah Grant hadn’t been in touch for years, and there was never any ambiguity back then, but he always brought it up.
Ian Kane gave a bitter smile, "So, what have I schemed against you for, have you lost a piece of flesh? If I hadn’t done this, would you have come back? I love you, that’s why I used every means to make you turn back, or else, what was it all for?"
Vera was stunned.
Indeed, what was it all for.
Even Vera couldn’t figure it out.
Except, perhaps he saw her as a soulmate.
It was true love.
But he also exposed so many signs of infidelity.
Ian Kane took out a pack of cigarettes, drew one out, raised his head to look at her, his voice low, "Vera, honestly, do you really love me? Do you secretly hope to catch evidence of my infidelity, so you have a reason to leave me?"
Vera felt a soreness at the tip of her nose.
A stabbing pain like needles in her right ankle.
Ian Kane’s lips curled into a bitter smile, "Other women, even witnessing their husband’s infidelity, deceive themselves, find excuses for their partner, unwilling to leave."
"But my wife, after some clues are overturned, still doesn’t believe I’m innocent."
He stood against the light at the window, the rain blurred the glass behind him, his whole demeanor exuding a gloomy, desolate temperament.
His thumb restlessly rubbed the silver wedding band as if it was an illness.
She was his.
Whether she loved him or not, she was his.
Vera could sense his sorrow, it didn’t seem feigned.
Her heart also grew heavy.
In truth, she hadn’t firmly concluded he was unfaithful, but with the constant suspicion, the internal struggle, and the torment of psychological issues, she was truly exhausted.
Ian Kane’s deep, gloomy eyes gazed at her, "When you agreed to marry me, it was just out of being moved, right."
Holding the cigarette between his fingers, he waved it, "Go ahead, I won’t force you."
Vera hesitated for a moment, didn’t explain, and walked toward the door with her suitcase.
Ian Kane took the cigarette to his lips, looked down, his finger playing with the roller, "You can come back anytime you want, this lifetime, I’ve given in to you, even if it’s one-sided... I’ve accepted it."
Vera gripped the handle tightly, quickened her pace, holding back from looking at him.
As her figure disappeared at the doorway, Ian Kane lit the cigarette, the fire illuminating the blood-red veins crawling on his white eyeballs.
He took a deep drag of smoke, looking down into the courtyard below at her limping figure, then at the wall of white roses, full of confusion.
He was just in love with her.
What was wrong with that?
The sound of a car engine came from downstairs.
Vera had left.
Ian Kane turned on his phone and received a call from Thea Kane.
"Ian Kane! Mom has been in the hospital for five days now, why haven’t you gone to see her?"
Ian Kane leaned against the window frame, his mouth quirking, "Five days, this time she faked it for so long, it’s been hard on her."
On the other end, on the hospital balcony, Thea Kane paused, lowered her voice, "She wasn’t faking it this time, got a heart attack because of you, underwent minimally invasive surgery, didn’t Vera tell you?"
Ian Kane, "She told me, I didn’t believe it, got tired of Grandma’s antics."
Thea Kane fell silent.
Jean Crowe was highly controlling over the siblings, a black hole of emotions in the family.
"Ian, you’ve fought enough with Grandpa, it’s time to stop," Thea Kane advised him.
Ian Kane flicked off some ash, his eyes tinged with a mocking smile, "Stop? I want that old relic to bring 5% of his shares to beg me, if he’s unwilling, I’ll let the Kane Group be beyond salvation."
"Ian, I don’t want you to be too exhausted," Thea Kane frowned, her tone rising somewhat.
Ian Kane chuckled, shedding his gloom, straightening his posture, his tall frame exuding a confident air of strategizing, "Sis, I’m not tired from this, fighting with that old man is just like a cat teasing a mouse."
Thea Kane felt reassured.
Three days later, Old Master Kane, bowing to pressure from the board of directors, partners, and society, had no choice but to bring his 5% share to personally visit Ian Kane, asking him to return to the Kane Group.
When Old Master Kane entered The Glimmer Garden holding a dragon-headed cane, Ian Kane was lounging with his legs crossed by the fish pond, basking in the sun, feeding the koi.
He ignored him completely.
Old Master Kane’s expression was dark, once he was close, he had his assistant hand over the share transfer document.
Ian Kane flipped through the transfer document, barely lifting an eyelid, "You should also vacate the main building of the Kane Residence!"
Old Master Kane picked up his cane, the dragon’s head pointing at him, "Ian Kane, don’t push your luck! This time I’m willing to compromise because I don’t want those workers dependent on the Kane Group left to suffer!"
Ian Kane squinted at him, as if looking at a stranger, "Now that you’re old, you want to build a false reputation."
Old Master Kane glared, his eyes wide with anger, "You—"
Ian Kane didn’t spare him another glance, pulled out a pen from his pocket, signing his name, "Move out from the main house within three days!"
His handsome face, cold and unfeeling.
Old Master Kane gripped his cane tightly, gave a cold snort, and walked out.
This grandson, no matter how capable, he just can’t like him.
Too scheming, and disobedient.
Besides, people’s hearts are inherently biased.
Returning to the Kane Group, Ian Kane’s first order of business was to eliminate the opposition.
He kicked out all the board members who voted to remove him that day from the board, and all of Liam Kane’s factions within the company executives were "dispatched" to branch offices.
The second thing, he announced several new long-term cooperative strategies, all of which were projects he had previously negotiated. This move quickly brought the previously plummeting stock price of the Kane Group back to fundamentals.
In the office, Ian Kane was signing mountains of documents when Elias Crowe knocked and entered.
"Boss, I found out, this National Ballet recruitment is on par with the art exam, with strict supervision. The judges are all virtuous and renowned artists, very noble, we can’t buy them off."
Ian Kane put down the pen, took out a cigarette, and sneered, "Noble... all damn stubborn."
Elias Crowe: "..."
The world is still not lacking in some idealists who give up sixpence to pursue the moon.
The boss’s mindset is very obsessive, with profit as the top priority.
Ian Kane slowly exhaled smoke, his dark eyes gazing at a certain point, with a thoughtful look, "Then let’s gamble, gamble on whether I know her well enough."
Elias Crowe was puzzled.
Ian Kane flicked the ash into the ashtray, "You tell Nina Sullivan to also join the recruitment, make sure to crush Vera Sheridan."
Elias Crowe raised an eyebrow, a bit doubting if he heard wrong.
He reminded him, "President Kane, your wife previously even with an injured left leg could beat Nina Sullivan."
Ian Kane looked up at the naive Elias Crowe, "The state is created by the heart, you go and comprehend it."
...
In Veridia, at The National Ballet Family Courtyard.
The night was deep, yet the lights were still on in the attic.
Vera Sheridan, dressed in black ballet training attire, was still practicing fouetté turns.
Wendy Donovan sat on a yoga mat beside her, holding a stopwatch, timing her, "Not bad, Vera, your left leg level can still beat many budding dancers. Tomorrow’s interview will be no problem at all."
Vera Sheridan, spinning like a top, gradually stopped, a confident smile playing on her face.
She looked at her tall, elegant self in the mirror, feeling a sense of calm joy.
She walked to the wall, had a long heart-to-heart talk with Wendy Donovan, and then returned to her bedroom.
Vera Sheridan took out the pair of ballet pointe shoes Ian Kane gave her from the suitcase and placed them by the bedside.
This was her "battle shoes" for tomorrow’s performance.
She learned from the finance news the day before yesterday that he had returned to the Kane Group as he wished.
Just as she lay down and turned on her phone, she received a message from Ian Kane: Heard there is an interview tomorrow? Good luck!
The word "Thanks" was typed and deleted again.
In the end, she did not reply.
...
At the dance group’s gymnasium, ballet dancers from all over the country lined up for the interview.
Among these dancers, Vera Sheridan was neither the youngest nor the oldest, but in terms of qualification ranking, she was undeniably a "senior" among these dozens of dancers.
Once a famous diva.
Just the title "Won the Lorraine International Ballet Gold Award representing the country at the age of twenty" was unmatched.
Including her senior sister, the chief dancer of the National Ballet, Rae Chase, who was also a judge.
A year ago, if Vera Sheridan hadn’t married Ian Kane, she should be the one in Rae Chase’s position now.
Now, she was limping, standing in line under the sympathetic, astonished, regretful, and pitying eyes of the crowd.
Vera Sheridan responded to the crowd’s gaze with a generous smile.
"A cripple can also apply for the dance group’s job? Wrong place, the disability dance group is two bus stops away!"
A harsh male voice came from the crowd.
Vera Sheridan remained calm.
At this moment, a young boy rushed out of the crowd, holding a recruitment poster, and shoved it in the male dancer’s face, "Damn it, if you’re blind, go check your eyes. See what the recruitment notice says?!"
The boy was Milo Hale.
Vera Sheridan was worried he might start a conflict, affecting the interview, and went forward to persuade him.
The provocative male dancer widened his eyes at the announcement and read aloud, "Bracket, welcome retired or active dancers with disabilities to participate in the recruitment. Oh, got it, even disabled can apply!"
He intentionally emphasized the word "disabled" to embarrass Vera Sheridan.
Milo Hale swung his fist to hit him, but Vera Sheridan quickly held him back, "Milo, calm down!"
Even the on-site security came forward to stop them.
Milo Hale looked defiant, still pointing his finger at the other party.
The male dancer recognized Vera Sheridan and spoke in a slightly eerie tone, "The Kane Group’s lady boss, I see. Isn’t this recruitment already a certainty for you? So rich, yet coming to occupy the survival space of us grassroots dancers..."
Vera Sheridan stepped forward, "I am here to apply, representing only myself, and like everyone else, it is a fair competition."
"Yes, our Ms. Sheridan is indeed a noble artist. If she really wanted to use connections, she could directly become the head of the group, so why bother queuing with us?" At this moment, a female voice came from afar and went closer.
Vera Sheridan turned her head, and at first glance, it was as if she saw a younger self.
The girl, dressed in a nude pink ballet training outfit, with her hair in a bun, small oval face with delicate light makeup. Upon a second look, Vera recognized her as Nina Sullivan.
Today, her makeup was much more subdued than usual.
Vera had also heard that after she was detained last time, the Ardendale Ballet terminated her contract, and she’s currently unemployed.
Nina Sullivan wore a pair of sneakers and walked with an elegant stride, neither hurried nor slow, and as she approached, her hand slowly lowered from behind.
In her right hand, she carried a pair of pearl white satin ballet pointe shoes.
"Wow, am I seeing this right? Is she carrying a pair of custom-made dance shoes from the founder of Freed of London?" Someone in the crowd exclaimed, looking at Nina Sullivan’s dance shoes.
Vera Sheridan also noticed Nina Sullivan’s dance shoes.
They were from the same designer as the pair Ian Kane gave her, shoes for which one had to queue three months to order.
Hers was still in the bag, not yet taken out.
"Ms. Sheridan, long time no see!" Nina Sullivan greeted Vera Sheridan with a sweet and well-behaved smile.
Most of the dancers present knew they were in a mentor-student relationship.
Vera Sheridan did not want to engage with her, only nodded symbolically, "Milo, let’s go."
Milo Hale looked at Nina Sullivan with displeasure.
At this moment, the broadcast announced for each dancer to change into their dance shoes and prepare for the basic skills assessment.
Vera Sheridan sat on the seats next to the gymnasium, changing her shoes when a familiar peach scent wafted into her nose, "Ms. Sheridan, you also have a pair of similar shoes?"
Nina Sullivan picked up the shoes Vera had placed on the seat, and turned to look at the designer’s signature on the sole.
"What a coincidence, they were designed and customized at the same time as mine. Did Mr. Kane give them to you too?"
Vera Sheridan was about to ask her to put them down but noticed the word "also"...
