Remarried Wife: Mr. Ex, We Will Never Reconcile!-Chapter 74: She Smells Like a Man

Emerald jade entwined with a silver brooch, leaving just a sliver of space between them.

Vera Sheridan cautiously, slowly unfastened it.

In the dim light, her exquisite, aloof face appeared serious, her fair fingertips reflecting the emerald’s green and the silver’s sheen, her gentle breath slowly drifting to his neck.

Noah Grant’s eyes burned a little more.

The air grew heated.

Vera felt his gaze upon her, quickened her movements, but the faster she went, the more flustered she became.

Noah said, "Let me do it."

He raised his hand.

The moment their fingertips touched, Vera immediately withdrew, turning her face away.

"Determined to divorce?" he asked.

Vera understood, he must have guessed after receiving her message yesterday afternoon, "Yes, the cooling-off period is about to end, and Ian Kane still doesn’t know my decision."

Noah, "Did you just capture it on film?"

With this infidelity video, it could be used as leverage in the divorce.

Vera nodded.

At the same time, she felt a sense of embarrassment before him.

For her failed marriage, and for having such a philandering husband...

Noah opened the door and looked outside, seeing no sign of Ian Kane, then walked out.

Vera followed, and as she passed by him, she forced a smile, "Senior, thanks for just now, and... sorry for the embarrassment."

Her brows and eyes revealed a clear sense of distance.

Noah raised an eyebrow, his deep eyes watching her back, "Vera, with me, there’s no need to be so formal."

Vera’s steps paused slightly, her eyes tinged with a faint red, then she quickened her pace.

Limping, her unsteady figure gradually disappeared around the corner.

Only then did Noah withdraw his gaze.

...

By the railing of the second-floor atrium of the Hawthorne Family, Ian Kane, with a cigarette between his lips, looked down at the first-floor banquet hall, searching for Vera’s figure, but couldn’t shake the image of the champagne-colored hem peeking from Noah Grant’s suit pants.

Quentin Hawthorne, suited and booted, came out of the surveillance room and stood next to him, "Kane, I’ve checked, a blind spot in the surveillance. Didn’t capture the second master, nor who he was being intimate with."

The Hawthorne Family and The Grant Family were related by marriage, and in terms of seniority, Quentin was a generation younger than Noah, usually calling him "second master."

"I must say, the master has never been one for women, did you see it wrong?"

Ian tightened his grip on the cigarette butt, precisely because Noah wasn’t into women, it vexed him more.

Apart from Vera, would Noah spare any woman a second glance?

If it were Vera, why didn’t she resist?

The man’s fist slammed onto the railing, "Where’s my wife? Where is she?"

His tie loosened, shirt collar unbuttoned a few notches, his neck plainly marked with love bites.

Acting like he cared a lot about Vera, yet fooling around with a lover in the stairwell.

Quentin thought he was quite insane.

"She went into the rest room with Old Madam Grant and hasn’t come out."

Ian let out a breath.

Quentin added, "There’s also a front door in the rest room, leading to the balcony corridor."

Before he finished speaking, Ian’s face had become overcast, irritably ruffling his hair.

Back when Vera caught him and Nina in the dance studio, he had slipped away through the front door on the other side of the studio.

Ian tossed the cigarette, crushing it heavily, adjusting his shirt collar as he headed to the first floor, striding with a sharp, commanding presence.

As he descended to the first floor and reached the side hall, he saw Vera supporting an elderly lady with graying hair coming out of the rest room.

The man’s expression softened.

He had been overthinking it!

Ian fastened his suit button, every step projecting the confident stride of a man of status, moving towards them, a smile on his lips, "Grandma Grant, my wife!"

Vera saw him, feigned a happy smile, "Grandma, my husband, Ian Kane."

Old Madam Grant looked him over, benevolent, kept saying "Good."

She knew Ian Kane, a tough character in the business world, even scheming against his own grandfather, harming siblings for profit.

Not someone simple and pure like Vera.

After the pleasantries, Old Madam Grant was invited by the elder of the Hawthorne Family.

Ian walked with Vera towards the dining area, passing by the central air conditioning vent, where he clearly caught a man’s scent wafting from her.

Sandalwood, with a hint of tobacco.

Clearly Noah Grant’s.

Ian’s face instantly turned dark.