Mr. CEO, You Look Strangely Familiar-Chapter 65 - 63: Give Her Hand to Him (2)

A mere glance was enough to make your heart pound.

The car drove toward the main gate. From a distance, she could see it was heavily guarded.

As the car approached, the gates slowly opened to let them pass.

Only when they truly arrived did Nora Ainsworth realize just how massive the villa was.

She was a little confused. ’Why set up a Taekwondo gym all the way out here?’

’Do they just have money to burn?’

After asking the person leading them, she learned that this was a training camp. The actual Taekwondo gym was in the city.

Herman Hawthorne’s Taekwondo gym wasn’t your average dojo; its members were students scouted from military academies.

She couldn’t help but admire him a little. He was teaching on one hand while busy making money on the other.

The guide led her to Herman Hawthorne’s room, where Chloe Marshall had already arrived.

Chloe was exceptionally happy to see Nora Ainsworth.

Then, Herman Hawthorne personally led the two of them into the training camp’s dorms.

Four girls to a large room. It had to be said, even the dorms were luxurious.

There was hardly any difference from a hotel.

Nora Ainsworth took the bottom bunk, and Chloe Marshall slept on the top.

The other two women were already there. Herman Hawthorne made brief introductions, and Nora Ainsworth memorized their names. They had both been scouted from the military academy in Breyfall.

One was named Jasmine Walsh, and the other was Shea Rhodes.

The two of them acted very enthusiastically when they saw Herman Hawthorne. The moment he left, however, their enthusiasm vanished, and their expressions changed completely.

Nora Ainsworth and Chloe Marshall had just finished unpacking and were getting ready for assembly when Jasmine Walsh suddenly spoke up. "Hey, you two got in through connections, didn’t you?"

Nora Ainsworth looked at her calmly. "What makes you say that?"

She scoffed. "Don’t pretend. People scouted from proper military academies have all gone through endless training in the wind, rain, and scorching sun. Every one of them has rough skin. Even though this is a hellish training camp, the prize money is high. Plus, anyone who graduates from here earns the personal regard of the big boss. But look at you, with your soft, delicate skin."

Nora Ainsworth understood the implication behind her words and smiled faintly. "Well, what can I do? I was just born with good skin!"

Jasmine Walsh hadn’t expected her personality to be so different from her delicate appearance.

She could only shrug and chuckle. "Whatever. So many people sleep their way into things these days."

Nora Ainsworth didn’t say anything further, but Chloe Marshall wouldn’t stand for it. "Who are you saying slept their way in?!"

"Ooh, listen to the little country bumpkin, all full of nerve. Why don’t you tell me how *you* got in, then?"

Chloe Marshall was at a loss for words for a moment, then finally retorted, "Why should I tell you? Nora and I got in because we were good enough to. You, on the other hand... if you’re jealous of Nora’s good skin, just say so. Being as dark as an African, how could you not be jealous of her?"

Jasmine Walsh was the pampered daughter of a wealthy family. She had only entered the military academy because she had once met Herman Hawthorne and had worked hard just to get closer to him. This was the first time anyone had ever called her African.

"Chloe, let’s go. Don’t waste your breath on her." Nora Ainsworth took her hand, and the two of them walked out. Jasmine Walsh was fuming. She looked at Shea Rhodes. "Why didn’t you back me up?"

"Jasmine, those two obviously have powerful connections. We all have to train together, so it’s best not to stir up trouble."

Jasmine Walsh snorted coldly. "You’re just a coward!"

***

Nora Ainsworth and Chloe Marshall had no idea. The difficulty of this "hellish training," as they called it, was truly beyond imagination.

After breakfast, they had to run laps around the villa. They ran for a full two hours, and the time would increase progressively: two and a half hours the next day, three hours the day after that, and so on, until they could run for four hours straight every day.

Their legs felt ready to snap by the end, but no one gave up.

After a half-hour break, it was time to practice their aim.

A professional instructor was there to teach them shooting, one-on-one.

The afternoon was dedicated to martial arts practice, starting with the most basic stance training. The entire afternoon was spent in the agonizing torture of holding a horse stance.

By the time they returned to the dorm, everyone was completely drained.

The six men were too exhausted to even get up, to say nothing of the four women.

After three consecutive days of this inhuman torture, one of the men quit.

When Quentin Grant saw Nora Ainsworth three days later, he was completely surprised that she had managed to stick it out.

He thought she would have called him after two days at most. Who knew she would actually endure it all.

"So, how was the training these past three days?"

Nora Ainsworth stood in a formal posture. "Reporting, President Grant. I thoroughly enjoyed the last three days."

A smile spread across Quentin Grant’s face. "Good. Since you enjoy this kind of life, I can rest assured."

He extended his hand, and she placed hers in his palm. Even many years later, Nora Ainsworth could still vividly remember Quentin Grant, standing in the sun-drenched courtyard, reaching his hand out to her.

His palm was cool, and his fingers were beautiful—long, slender, and fair.

With his deep, captivating phoenix eyes, strong nose, crimson lips, and flawless skin, what kind of woman could possibly marry such a man, a true child of fortune?

’Of course,’ Nora Ainsworth thought, ’it would probably take a woman who could conquer him. Otherwise, he’d just spread his sick tendencies everywhere.’

"How are things progressing with your wedding to Sharon Ainsworth?"

Quentin Grant’s gaze shifted to her. "You really want to know?"

"Just asking. Quentin Grant, how many girls are there among the children in the Grant Family?" She finally voiced the first probing question that had been on her mind.

"Our family is small. Between my siblings and my second and third uncles’ kids—two boys and a girl—there are only three men and two women in total in our generation."

Nora Ainsworth pressed on. "Are any of them around my age?"

"Jean and my second uncle’s daughter are both about your age. Why are you asking all this?" He was a bit puzzled.

Nora Ainsworth shook her head. "It’s nothing. Just making conversation."

He stopped walking and looked at her, taking his time. "You haven’t fallen in love with me, have you?"

Nora Ainsworth was speechless. ’Does he have to be so narcissistic?’ But her words were still full of bravado. "So what if I have? And so what if I haven’t?"

"If you have, then I’m honestly a bit worried for you. Your life would be quite miserable. If you haven’t, that’s for the best."

Nora Ainsworth pulled her hand away. "Don’t flatter yourself. I, Nora Ainsworth, may not have parents and I may just be average-looking, but I still have suitors."

"Leon Lynch?" He scoffed. "Believe it or not, if I told him you’re my woman, he’d run as far away as he could get."

"I believe you." She was completely convinced he was the type of person who would dare to do anything.

The two of them didn’t have sex that night, which came as a surprise to Nora Ainsworth. For a lecherous wolf like him, he definitely would have wanted to get his fill.

But tonight, for the first time, he just held her as they slept and said something that, to Nora Ainsworth, sounded incredibly tender: "From now on, if I don’t call you, you don’t need to go through the trouble of coming back."