Chapter 162
Myra straightened out her clothes, but the aftermath of their passionate moment had left her office lady outfit in a crumpled state. Her legs felt weak as she stepped out of the car, and she struggled to maintain her balance, fearing the embarrassment of falling in front of the two men. She forced a slightly awkward smile and nodded at Sebastian and Shawn. “Old Master Hart, Deputy Mayor Hart. I’m sorry for dropping by so suddenly.”
Sebastian noticed her slightly reddened eyes, and his gaze shifted to his grandson’s stiff back. His expression darkened as he quickly pieced things together, realizing what had happened. Without hesitation, he shot a sharp look at Tony. “Myra was still in the car! Why did you just walk off without her?!”
At that moment, all his previous frustrations with Myra seemed to fade, replaced with his ire at Tony. He couldn’t help but think, How could this man be so clueless? After all these years of being single, he finally finds a woman who tolerates his temper, and he still acts like this?
Tony’s response was cold and detached, his eyes empty. “I forgot.”
Myra clenched her fists at her sides, but forced herself to nod at the two men once more. “I apologize for the sudden visit. I’ll come back another time.” She turned to leave, but Tony’s mood darkened further.
Shawn noticed Tony’s grim expression and shook his head before addressing Myra. “Miss Stark, why don’t you come inside? The housekeeper made a lot of your favorite dishes tonight. It’s all thanks to Tony; he called ahead and had them prepared for you.”
Myra froze mid-step, glancing back at Tony. His frown deepened as he snapped at Shawn, “You talk too much.”
With that, he turned toward the villa, and just as he did, an innocent voice rang out from inside. “Has Myra arrived?! Where is she?!”
Henry appeared, running toward her with bright excitement. “Myra! You came after all! I thought Uncle Shawn was lying to me!”
The sight of Henry, his face flushed with the effort of running, and his sparkling eyes full of joy made the weight of Myra’s earlier frustrations feel lighter. She bent down to wipe the sweat from his nose. “Why did you run so quickly?”
“Because I was afraid you might leave!” He grabbed her hand, tugging her toward the villa. “Let’s go! Mrs. Frye just served the dishes. You have to sit next to me tonight!”
Myra, still holding Henry’s hand, glanced at Sebastian. He looked somewhat stunned by his great-grandson’s affection toward her. Catching her eye, he grumbled, “What? Do you think there’s poison in our food? Why do you look so unwilling to eat? We’ve already invited you over!”
Suppressing a laugh, Myra quickly followed Henry inside, but as soon as she entered the villa, she was greeted by Lisa and Serena. She walked over to Lisa and nodded respectfully. “Old Madam Hart.”
When she saw Serena, she greeted her with a smile. “Hi, Serena.”
Serena’s response was calm and warm. “Come in.”
Though Serena’s expression was gentle, Myra could sense something in her tone. Serena whispered, “Don’t worry. Grandma may seem distant, but she likes you a lot.”
Myra blinked in surprise. She couldn’t remember having much contact with Lisa before, so the sudden kindness made her feel somewhat taken aback. Serena, noticing the confusion on Myra’s face, whispered again, “Although Grandpa seems to be the head of the family, he adores Grandma. He always does whatever she says. And it was Grandma who helped make Grandpa accept your relationship with Tony so quickly.”
Myra let out a sigh of relief. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of discomfort when thinking about Tony. She turned her attention back to him as she entered the dining room.
The Hart Residence was magnificent, a sprawling estate that felt endless. The villa was grand and resplendent, the largest building in the center. Even the dining room was vast and elegant. Tony was already seated at the table, wearing only a white shirt with its sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned arms. He smoked a cigarette, the white smoke curling lazily around his face, giving him a blurry, distant look.
As soon as Myra entered, Sebastian’s voice cut through the air with sharp reprimands. “Go outside if you want to smoke. You know your grandmother dislikes the smell of cigarettes.”
For once, Tony didn’t argue. He simply extinguished the cigarette, and motioned for the housekeeper to remove the ashtray.
Sebastian wasn’t satisfied. He muttered, “Outrageous!” but Tony didn’t react, his expression cold and detached.
Sebastian wanted to say more but froze when he caught Lisa’s warning gaze. He quickly sat down beside her, his anger dissipating.
Henry continued to drag Myra to the table, but as they passed Tony, he suddenly reached out, grabbing Myra by the waist, stopping her from moving forward.
Henry, looking a little put out, glared at his uncle. “Uncle Tony, Myra is my guest today! It’s rude to leave her outside like that. Why are you stopping her now?”
Tony’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Henry, but his gaze remained fixed on Myra. “Your guest?” he asked, his voice low.
Myra, unwilling to meet his gaze, turned her face away.
“That’s right,” Henry replied cheerfully, oblivious to the tension. “I’ve always wanted to invite Myra over to the Hart Residence. It just worked out that she came today!”
Tony’s eyes darkened as he glanced down at their joined hands. Without warning, he yanked Myra’s hand out of Henry’s grasp and pulled her over to sit beside him at the table.
The dining room fell silent, the tension palpable. Was Tony… jealous?
“Tony…” Myra muttered, trying to free herself from his grip. She was too aware of the elders around them to be confrontational, but the situation was frustrating her more than she cared to admit.
Seeing Henry’s frustration, Serena intervened. “Henry, why don’t you sit next to Miss Stark? You can help serve her the dishes.”
That seemed to calm Henry down, though he still shot Tony an accusatory glance.
Myra, feeling embarrassed and angry at Tony’s possessiveness, couldn’t help but glare at him. But Tony merely raised an eyebrow, uncaring of the looks everyone was giving him. He casually speared a piece of eggplant on his fork and took a slow bite, all while maintaining a look of indifference. Then, catching her gaze, he asked with a smirk, “Do you want me to serve you?”