This voice sounded somewhat familiar.
It was the Quinn sisters.
Grace got up and walked to the terrace. As far as her eyes could see, a boat on the river was engulfed in flames.
A lantern had just landed on the straw awning, and instantly, a huge fire blazed up.
The two were flurrying, and the boat rocked even more violently.
The rope that had originally tied the boat had been untied at some unknown time, and the two were too far from the shore to reach it.
In a rush, Sunny knocked over the lantern hanging at the bow of the boat, and the bow began to catch fire.
The water level wasn't deep. Even if they jumped in, they probably wouldn't drown, and they could reach the riverbank in just a few steps.
But these delicate young ladies, being daughters of wealthy families, could not protect themselves and could only scream in place.
"Is it beautiful?" The reflection of the firelight danced in the man's pupils. His handsome face was calm and composed, as if he were merely appreciating a painting.
"It's your boat that's burning. Aren't you heartbroken?"
A meaningful smile played on the corner of John Amster's lips. "They caused the fire by operating the boat in violation of regulations. The lawyer will hold them accountable and compensate them for all the losses."
Evidently, he was well aware of what had happened.
His tall and straight figure stood behind her, exuding a natural sense of oppression. It was the dignity of someone in a high position, making Grace instinctively afraid.
Could it be that he was taking revenge for her?
Otherwise, why was there not a single waiter present in this high-end establishment, and he could even chat and laugh here as if nothing had happened?
This thought only flashed through her mind for a moment and then disappeared abruptly.
It can't be.
If John Amster had any interest in her, it was only limited to what happened in bed. Businessmen are most concerned about gains and losses. How could he risk damaging his reputation to help her take revenge on the Quinn sisters?
"Weren't you hungry? Can you get full just by watching others?"
The show was over, and Grace returned to her seat. She felt as if she had unblocked her meridians, her whole body was filled with comfort, and her appetite had increased greatly.
She looked up at John and found that the man had his hands clasped together, his chin resting on them, and his gaze, which seemed to be there yet not quite, fixed on her.
"Aren't you hungry?"
"I am."
He gracefully cut the steak. Clearly, his face was serious, but she detected a hint of frivolity in his tone. "Just eating these won't be enough for me."
Grace's face flushed. She understood what he meant.
In front of her, the man had always been very direct, both in his body language and in his words.
Through the flickering candlelight, he raised his eyebrows and looked at her. "What are you thinking about, Miss Quinn? Why is your face so red?"
Grace retorted, "You're smiling with ill intent, Mr. Amster. What are you thinking?"
John slowly and methodically sliced the steak. "Naturally, I'm thinking about having meat."
"Rogue," Grace muttered under her breath.
"There are many ways to cook steak. I'm thinking about how to make it to savor its best flavor. Braising or cooking it in a dry pot seem not as good as frying it in butter. Sounds simple, doesn't it? Actually, it's even simpler to make."
Grace Quinn: "..."
"First, marinate the steak with seasonings like red wine until it's well-flavored. Then, when the pan is 70% hot, put the steak in and fry it slowly. However, the most important thing is to control the heat and strength well. It won't work if it's too light or too heavy. You see, a simple method can make the most tender, juicy, and best-tasting steak."
He pushed the cut-off piece of steak in front of Grace, saying, "Give it a try."
John spoke seriously, but every word was laced with provocation.
Grace pretended not to understand and focused on eating.
It had to be said that the chef hired at a high price had excellent skills.
Grace, with her small appetite, actually ate two large plates until she was almost about to vomit.
She pushed the plate forward. "Your money wasn't wasted. You hired the right chef. But such a high-level chef must be quite expensive, right?"
John Amster gave her a meaningful look. "It's not cheap."
He casually unbuttoned the top button of his collar. The light in his eyes was glistening. "Stay here tonight?"
Grace Quinn thought of their conversation last night. This being the last time, he probably wouldn't let her go easily.
"I'm too full..." Grace Quinn was about to find an excuse to decline.
The man leaned in and put his arm around her slender waist. "I'll help you digest."
Grace uncomfortably evaded. A few minutes later, she was taken to the backyard.
It turned out that he really meant to help her digest!
After walking a couple of steps, she found her high heels too tiring. Since there was no one else around, Grace Quinn took off her shoes and stepped barefoot on the lawn.
It was soft and cool, very stress-relieving.
"If it's that tiring, you don't have to wear them."
Grace held one high heel in each hand and frolicked freely. "That won't do. If I don't wear them, I'll..."
She didn't finish the rest of the sentence.
On her tenth birthday, her mother gave her a pair of high heels.
Her mother said that high heels best showcased a woman's charm. To cultivate her into a man-killer, She had spent a great deal of energy on her.
She forced Grace to attend etiquette classes and cultivate various hobbies. She made Grace learn all the tricks that wealthy people liked to play.
Except during school days, she had to wear high heels on other occasions, couldn't eat dinner, had to avoid high-oil and high-salt foods, and the portion of her fat-reducing meals had to be strictly controlled.
She was being groomed to be a wealthy wife. Her mother pampered her appearance and skin, not allowing her to get hurt. Whenever she made a mistake, She wouldn't slap her, but she would prick her tender flesh in hidden places with a small needle.
The needle holes were small and wouldn't leave scars. They healed quickly and could achieve the purpose of punishment.
"Will what?"
Grace shook her head and didn't continue this topic. She pointed to the lanterns in the distance. "Can I release one?"
John Amster handed her a pen. "You can write down your wishes."
She lay on the table and wrote earnestly until John released his lantern.
He leaned over. There was a long, dense list.
"Salary increased to 5000 dollars."
"Watch the sunrise at the mountain top."
"Visit three cities within a month."
"..."
To him, these so-called wishes were just ordinary daily things for a little girl.
"You don't need to ask God for these."
Grace protected her wish list with both hands, blocking his prying eyes. "Huh?"
John slowly bent down and covered the hand holding the pen. The warmth of his palm was extremely hot, spreading through the surface of her skin to her entire body, all the way to the softest part of her heart.
It made Grace feel an inexplicable restlessness.
John's gaze was deep.
His thin lips parted. "Ask me."