CHAPTER 47: CHAPTER 47: DID I SAY I WOULDN’T HELP YOU?

The cashier was frightened and handed the remaining seventy yuan to Isaac Heston.

Isaac took the money and chased after her.

He caught up with Ivana Monroe, grabbed her arm, and stuffed the change into her palm, seeing Ivana looking at him warily.

Isaac hurriedly explained, "Don’t get me wrong, I have no ill intentions towards you."

Ivana shook off his hand; regardless of his intentions, she didn’t want to deal with anyone named Heston anymore.

Isaac watched her slender figure darting away as if she were escaping the plague.

Isaac was amused and helpless. If it were another woman, seeing him, she’d be eager to throw herself at him, wanting to be his star girl. Yet this woman fled from him as if he were a plague before he could even speak.

Isaac had never been frustrated before women, and this was the first time a woman had shaken off his hand with disdain.

A desire for conquest emerged in his eyes. He placed his fingers under his nose, catching her lingering scent. His lips curved upward, "Ivana, I seem to have suddenly taken an interest in you. I eagerly await our next meeting and the sparks that may fly again."

Ivana ran for a while, breathlessly stopping when she didn’t see Isaac chasing her. She sighed with relief, took a short break, then hailed a taxi by the roadside.

Ivana arrived at Kane Group.

The receptionists at the front desk, seeing Ivana once more, treated her with reverence.

"Mrs. Kane, are you here to see President Kane? He’s on the twentieth floor, in the President’s office." The young receptionist eagerly informed her without Ivana asking.

As Ivana walked in, an intense inner struggle raged within her. Being called "Mrs. Kane" by the young receptionist turned her face crimson. She reiterated, "Don’t call me that. I’m not your Mrs. Kane."

"Yes, Mrs. Kane." The young receptionist blurted out, realizing her mistake again, swiftly covering her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes, almost crying, "I didn’t mean to."

Seeing the young girl nearly in tears, Ivana gave her a helpless look, didn’t blame her, and turned to take the elevator.

Ivana got on the elevator, pressed the button to the twentieth floor, feeling very conflicted. She controlled her legs that wanted to bolt; as long as there was a glimpse of hope, she had to send Michelle Monroe to jail.

Even sending Michelle in would leave Jean Shaw overwhelmed, with no energy left to contend for the inheritance and annoy Grandpa.

The elevator stopped, and the heavy iron doors opened automatically.

Ivana stepped out of the elevator and unexpectedly encountered Derrick Stern coming towards her.

Derrick looked at Ivana with surprise, his eyes filled with astonishment, and then he was in a good mood, "Are you here to see the President?"

Derrick asked what seemed a rhetorical question; if Ivana wasn’t here to see the President, could she be here to see him?

"The President is in the office." Realizing Ivana was visiting for the first time and probably didn’t know where the President’s office was, he offered warmly to guide her, "I’ll take you to the President’s office. This way, Madam."

Being called "Madam" once more, Ivana’s beautiful face and neck flushed red. She lowered her voice and said again, "I’m not anyone’s Madam. I’m single and haven’t married yet."

Derrick turned back, seeing Ivana’s blushing, beautiful face, as captivating as blossoming flowers, he became momentarily spellbound.

Ivana felt uncomfortable under Derrick’s gaze. She realized her previous words were flawed. Derrick called her "Madam," not "Mrs. Kane."

It was merely an honorific without implications. Her anxious denial and statement about being single were likely to cause misunderstandings.

Ivana lowered her head, walking past Derrick.

Derrick snapped back, realizing his previous offense, his face started to heat up, and his heartbeat accelerated, a sensation akin to encountering a captivating girl.

If it were another woman and not Ivana, Derrick would definitely have pursued her boldly.

But with Ivana, he dared not. The President would kill him.

Ivana stood outside the President’s office, hesitated for a moment, and then bravely raised her hand to knock on the door.

"Come in." A pleasant, cello-like male voice came from inside.

Ivana’s heart trembled, she bit her red lips, and pushed open the door.

Leon Keane sat in a luxurious leather chair, a laptop on his desk, the cool light from the screen reflecting off his chiseled, handsome face, appearing noble and aloof.

"What is it?" Leon didn’t look up, his eyes focused on the screen. The blue page reflected in his dark eyes made it seem as if a blue glow enveloped his pupils, brilliant and dazzling.

Seeing Leon focused on his work, Ivana thought he looked very attractive and charming.

Ivana recalled this man was Timmy’s biological father. Memories of being pinned by him on the bed flooded back, his kisses, his domineering nature, and wild thrusts, as if it happened only yesterday.

Ivana’s beautiful face turned so red it seemed about to drip blood.

Leon sensed a pair of intense eyes staring at him. He felt annoyed, assuming it was another infatuated woman who had walked in.

He was about to tell the "infatuated woman" to get out when he looked up and saw Ivana, startling him.

He thought after taking Timmy from the old Kane estate yesterday, she’d never come before him again on her own.

Seeing her blush, Leon’s mood lightened, and he curled his lips, "Is my face that good-looking?"

Ivana’s mouth twitched. This man was truly narcissistic.

Ivana dared not meet his eyes; they were too bright, like dazzling stars, seemingly intent on enveloping and consuming her.

Avoiding his question, Ivana said, "Leon, I’ve come to ask for your help with something."

Leon noted her evasion, raising an eyebrow slightly, realizing she had a request.

"What is it?" Leon inquired.

Hope flickered in Ivana’s eyes. Was he agreeing to help her?

Ivana approached Leon’s luxurious desk, excitedly stating, "I need your help to retrieve all the files from Michelle Monroe’s computer."

Leon looked at Ivana without immediately agreeing. His long, clean fingers tapped slowly on the leather desk, and the tapping sound echoed in Ivana’s ears.

Ivana’s heart suddenly sank. Was his silence a refusal to help her?

After a moment of eye contact, his handsome face remained expressionless, his deep black eyes inscrutable.

The sound of his fingers tapping against the desk unsettled Ivana. Would he help or not? Could he just give a straightforward answer?

She detested Leon’s torturous demeanor.

"If you’re not willing to help, forget it." Ivana felt bitterly disappointed. She didn’t want to be subjected to Leon’s torment any longer. If he wouldn’t help, she’d find another way.

"Did I say I wouldn’t help you?" Leon suddenly spoke.