CHAPTER 67: CHAPTER 67: THE GREATEST COMPROMISE

"I’ll see you out."

Hugo Quinn spoke in a low voice, his expression grim.

Eleanor Hollis was just about to say it wasn’t necessary when she saw him already taking the suitcase from her hands.

She couldn’t refuse, so she had to brace herself and walk beside him.

Samantha Sullivan had driven over to pick up Eleanor this time.

"Go open the trunk."

Hugo, with a stern face, told her, his fingers gripping the suitcase handle turning white.

Samantha pouted, reluctant, but walked over to her car to open the trunk.

As soon as she left, Hugo suddenly pulled Eleanor into a tight embrace.

Eleanor felt as if she was being crushed, and she was a bit scared of Hugo’s current state.

"You’re something else!"

Hugo whispered in her ear and bit down on her earlobe.

Eleanor winced in pain, but with Samantha not far away, she dared not cry out, only gritting her teeth to bear it.

Perhaps realizing he bit too hard, Hugo seemed regretful, his eyes shadowed.

"I’ll let you stay with her for a few days, but then you must move to the apartment I prepared for you. This is my biggest concession, or you won’t leave tonight."

He was serious, and Eleanor went weak all over, realizing just how terrifying Hugo could be.

No wonder he had established a company like Grandeur Group at such a young age, and no wonder everyone said he was the most shrewd of the Quinton Family.

"Eleanor, what are you daydreaming about? Hurry up and bring the suitcase here."

Samantha had opened the trunk but found Eleanor wasn’t following, so she couldn’t help but turn back to say.

Eleanor lowered her head and took the suitcase from Hugo, her lips quivering.

"Got it."

She chose to compromise because if she truly refused, Hugo definitely wouldn’t let her go tonight.

A faint smile appeared on Hugo’s face as he handed her the suitcase.

"Good, go on."

His words were affectionate, yet they made Eleanor shiver.

She placed the suitcase in the trunk and got into Samantha’s car.

Samantha slowly lowered the car window, smiling at Hugo, "Thanks to Great President Quinn for taking care of our Eleanor these days. Well, we’re off."

Hugo didn’t respond, turning away coldly.

To others, he was always icy and aloof.

Samantha pouted, thinking this man was impervious to persuasion, still wondering what Eleanor had done to pull him down from his pedestal.

Eleanor sat in the passenger seat, her heart in turmoil.

Especially when she saw Hugo’s indifferent demeanor; it frightened her even more.

The car started slowly, and she suddenly felt reluctant to leave Marcus, heaving a sigh.

Samantha teased, glancing at her, "If you miss him so much now, we haven’t gone far yet. I’ll stop the car if you want."

Eleanor’s face reddened, "Stop talking nonsense. I just miss that child. I can’t wait to leave him."

Thinking about what he had done to her, she didn’t dare meet Samantha’s eyes.

Samantha snorted, "Women are contrary creatures. You say you can’t wait to leave him, but maybe in your heart, you wish he’d firmly keep you by his side."

She was right.

For a moment, Eleanor really hoped Hugo would pull her back to the room and not let her leave.

She couldn’t overcome the hurdles in her heart right now, and if Hugo was assertive enough, she might compromise.

Eleanor’s mind was still in disarray when the car finally stopped.

Samantha opened the door, playfully tapping her finger on Eleanor’s neck, "Looks like you two were quite intense. I can’t imagine what that aloof Hugo is like in bed."

People say he’s like a beast in gentleman’s clothing, abstinent when dressed but a passionate blaze otherwise.

Eleanor’s face reddened even more as she tugged her collar higher.

Her appearance was a dead giveaway.

Samantha lit a cigarette and chuckled, "You don’t actually feel nothing for him, do you? You just find your statuses too awkward for a relationship. But remember, you’re both single now; no one can fault you."

Samantha was open-minded, taking a drag before helping her carry the suitcase inside.

Eleanor remained silent. She truly felt they weren’t suitable; just their connections to Nathaniel Quinn were reason enough to reconsider.

She sat in the living room, feeling drained, blankly staring at the ceiling.

Samantha lounged with her legs crossed, smiling, "I suddenly feel a bit sorry for Grace. She loved that man for so many years, only to be discarded. He clearly held no feelings for her. Yet you, who’ve been at the villa just briefly, stole his heart—such a little enchantress."

Eleanor didn’t want to discuss Hugo further, so no matter how Samantha joked, she remained silent.

Samantha soon found it boring and closed her mouth.

When Eleanor laid down on the bed, she still felt exhausted.

Despite wanting sleep, closing her eyes only brought Hugo’s face to mind—beguiling with a hint of danger, drawing her in.

Frustrated, she opened her eyes, turned over, and took a melatonin pill.

The medication finally helped her drift into sleep.

Morning.

She got up early, momentarily puzzled by the unfamiliar ceiling, then she remembered—she had left the villa.

"You stay at home. I have work, but I’ll be back tonight to keep you company."

Samantha, dressed in business attire, took her bag and quickly left the room.

Eleanor got up and made herself a bowl of noodles. As she ate, she heard the living room door open.

She got up, wondering if Samantha had forgotten something.

But as soon as she opened the door, she found Hugo standing outside.

Her first impulse was to shut the door, but he quickly reached out to block it.

"Do you find it comfortable here? You should move to the apartment I’ve arranged for you today."

He stated his purpose directly, without pretense.

Eleanor pursed her lips, truly unwilling to move to the place he had prepared—it would make things too convenient for him.

"Mr. Quinn, I..."

Before she could finish, Hugo interjected, "Marcus is at the apartment too, and he misses you. You agreed last night, remember?"

The words left her speechless. She knew Hugo wasn’t negotiating. If she refused, he might just drag her over himself.

In the end, it didn’t matter whether she agreed or not—the outcome was the same.

Resigned, she stepped aside, "I’ll get ready."