Chapter 78: Grant's Knuckles Turned White

Grant's knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists. His gaze burned into Connor. "What the hell do you mean? Clara is mine!"

Connor leisurely adjusted his cufflinks, a cold smirk playing on his lips. "Weren't you the one who told me to pursue her in the group chat? Spare me the sudden devotion."

The words struck Grant like lightning. Memories of that drunken night flooded back. His face drained of color, lips trembling soundlessly.

Clara staggered backward, her slender frame swaying like a leaf in the wind.

Elias stepped forward in one swift motion, steadying her shoulders. "We're leaving."

Connor blocked their path, eyes darkening. "Mr. Mercer, this is Hayes territory."

Grant snapped out of his daze, fury igniting in his eyes like a provoked beast.

Elias's gaze sharpened instantly, his entire demeanor shifting. "The academic forum at Bellwether Grand is chaired by my father. Shall I call him to mediate?"

The air froze.

"Or," Elias continued calmly, "should I inform Mr. Holloway Senior about tonight's events?"

Connor's pupils constricted.

Grant's temples pulsed visibly, yet he didn't dare advance further.

Elias swept his icy gaze across both men. "Move."

Connor gritted his teeth and retreated half a step. Grant's fists cracked audibly, but he remained rooted.

"Damn it!"

Grant kicked a flowerpot violently, sending ceramic shards flying.

Mason and Julian cowered in a corner, barely breathing.

* * *

Connor picked up his suit jacket and walked away without a backward glance.

Grant watched his retreating figure, eyes dripping with venom.

Paige approached timidly. "Grant—"

"Get lost!"

* * *

Rain hammered against the car windows during their return, like countless silver needles.

Clara curled into the corner, her slight frame trembling uncontrollably.

Suddenly, a warm suit jacket enveloped her, carrying the crisp scent of cedarwood.

The dam broke.

Elias signaled the driver to stop and raised the partition, sitting silently beside her as she wept.

Eventually, the sobs subsided.

"I'm sorry..." Clara's voice was raw. "I lost control..."

Elias offered a handkerchief. "Their words aren't worth a single tear."

"They only see illusions of their own making."

"But I know," he met her tear-filled eyes, "you're a thousand times better than anything they could imagine."

Clara lifted her gaze and found herself drowning in the depths of his unwavering stare.