Chapter 390 Young Man, How Can You Compare to Me?

Oliver watched them embrace, feeling a pang of jealousy. Even though they were siblings, he couldn't shake the feeling that Sarah should only be in his arms.

The winter day was harsh and cold.

The two men exchanged several rounds of hostile glares.

Just as another confrontation seemed inevitable, Sarah tugged on Dylan's sleeve, pleading softly, "Dylan, please don't."

Dylan had a soft spot for her. He couldn't bear to see her troubled. He turned to Oliver with a cold smile, "Oliver, if you've got a problem, take it out on me. Bullying a woman? What kind of man does that? Sarah wants to stay, and I won't force her to leave. But if you keep fooling around and letting other women hurt her, I'll make sure you suffer, even if it means we both go down. Try me."

Oliver sneered back, "Don't let the door hit you on the way out!"

In the end, Sarah called a driver to take Dylan home.

After everything settled, she returned to the bedroom. The two kids were still sound asleep, undisturbed. Sarah watched them for a moment, then thought of Dylan and slumped down in front of the vanity, feeling dejected.

She was in a bad mood, absentmindedly brushing her hair.

"Still feeling sorry for him?"

She didn't know when Oliver had appeared behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, "If he can’t keep up, that’s on him. I wouldn’t have laid a finger on him if he hadn’t started trouble."

Sarah looked at him in the mirror. "Why pretend to be so noble? Can you honestly say you didn't feel a bit satisfied?"





Oliver nibbled lightly on her earlobe, "I got hurt too. Don't you feel a bit sorry for me?"

Sarah's tone was even colder, "Stop trying to be charming!"

She was no longer the naive girl she once was. Taking advantage of his guilt, she made her request, "Even though I take care of the kids, we have plenty of help at home. I still have a lot of free time."

Oliver thought she wanted to continue her studies.

He walked over to the sofa by the floor-to-ceiling window, sat down, crossed his long legs, and casually played with a cigar. After a while, he smiled and said, "Which school do you want to go to? I'll arrange it."



"Not school!" Sarah said seriously, "I want to open a gallery."

Oliver frowned, "A gallery?"

Afraid he would disagree, Sarah continued, "Yes, a gallery! I've already found a place, about 8,000 square feet... But the initial investment is quite large. With rent, renovations, and other expenses, it will cost around 20 million dollars."



Oliver played with the cigar. After a while, he said, "It's not about the money! Running a business isn't like going to school where you can slack off... With two kids at home, I'm worried you won't be able to handle it."

"Aren't you here to help?" Sarah snorted. "You always say you want to be a good husband and father. Now's your chance."



Oliver leaned back on the sofa, the light from the window casting a soft golden glow on his chiseled face, making his features even more striking.

He chuckled, "You've been planning this for a while, haven't you? Fine, I'll give you the 20 million to play with. If you can't handle it... I'll find someone to take over."

Sarah continued brushing her hair in the mirror. She looked at him through the reflection and said softly, "Don't you want me to succeed?"

There was a hint of flirtation in her voice.

Oliver, experienced in the ways of romance, immediately put down the cigar and walked over to embrace her. "Of course I want you to succeed. I hope you do well in your career and come home in a good mood."

He wanted to please her. After thinking for a moment, he said, "There's a high-profile party in a few days. Come with me, and I'll introduce you to some useful people."



Sarah just smiled faintly.

A few days later, the Azure Palace Hotel hosted a grand party, filled with high society.

For the first time, Oliver from the Windsor Group brought his wife to a social event. He introduced Sarah to some top-tier connections. After some brief socializing, he had more important matters to attend to, so he told Sarah to get something to eat.

Once Sarah left, several business moguls, holding glasses of red wine, smiled and made small talk.

"Mr. Windsor, you've been married for years, and your wife is still so charming. Truly enviable!"

"I heard she's Dylan's sister!"

"A top student from Vesper City ArtScape Academy! Talented and beautiful! Unlike my old wife..."

Oliver responded modestly, "She's young and inexperienced! I wanted her to stay home and take care of the kids, but she insisted on making a fuss. What can I do? A wife is meant to be cherished!"

He continued, "Mr. Stevens, you're too modest! Your wife is in the art world and knows many famous artists. My wife's gallery could use her guidance."

Everett, who was mentioned, was overjoyed. Recently, the Windsor Group had a very lucrative project. Who wouldn't want to secure it?

Now that Oliver was asking for his help, it was like handing him the opportunity. He quickly responded, "I'll have my wife contact Mrs. Windsor. Though they're a generation apart, my wife is very good at taking care of young, beautiful women."

He was very good at flattery. Even someone as serious as Oliver couldn't help but smile slightly. Everett thought to himself, 'This project is in the bag!'That evening, besides the elite, the hosts had also invited some celebrities. Sarah encountered one.

Tonight, Evergreen City was bustling, with fireworks constantly lighting up the night sky. The theme was butterflies, and the sky was filled with colorful, dazzling butterflies...

Sarah watched quietly. She felt lonely, but it was a beautiful kind of loneliness. It had been a long time since she had watched fireworks so peacefully, without worrying about tomorrow.

Over time, she had learned to be composed. 

But the beautiful fireworks in the night sky also carried her past dreams. Lost in thought, her heart was filled with bittersweet memories, but the person she thought of was no longer Oliver.

Behind her stood a young man. Lowell Warren.

He was a rising star in the entertainment industry, with two hit dramas under his belt. He had more scripts and endorsements than he could handle. 

At that moment, he was gazing at Sarah.

Dressed in a sleek black velvet gown, she carried herself with effortless grace. Her jet-black hair was styled to frame her face, while pearl earrings and a luminous Australian South Sea pearl necklace added a touch of timeless sophistication. She radiated beauty—every inch of her a vision of elegance and allure.

'She is beautiful', Lowell thought.

He walked over to her, joining her in watching the fireworks. Without revealing his identity, he politely said when Sarah noticed him, "Mrs. Windsor, you're not what I imagined."

Sarah was puzlled, looking at him.

Lowell quickly introduced himself, "I'm Lowell Warren, from Vesper City."

Sarah recognized him. She smiled lightly, "I've seen your shows. You act very well."

Her smile was gentle, a unique charm between a girl and a woman, very attractive to men. Even Lowell, who usually kept his distance, was drawn in.

He couldn't help but say, "This weekend, I have a play at the Evergreen City Theater. If you would honor me with your presence, I have a VIP ticket for you."

His expression was full of admiration for her. He had heard about her long ago—words that painted her as a vain and materialistic woman. He had believed it to be true all this time, until he met her today and realized she was nothing like the person he had imagined.

She was delicate and she seemed to carry a subtle sadness.

Sarah thought for a moment and said, "My son's tutor is a big fan of yours. If it's okay, I'd like to give the ticket to her. Would that be alright, Mr. Warren?"

Lowell was a bit taken aback. He hadn't expected her to actually want to connect with him, so he immediately took out his business card and handed it to Sarah, "Mrs. Windsor, may I have your card? I'll have my assistant send the ticket to your home."

Sarah opened her purse, took out a platinum business card, and handed it to Lowell.

Lowell repeated her name in his mind, thinking it suited her perfectly. She seemed like a gentle, dreamy woman.

He accepted her card. As they said goodbye, he couldn't help but bend down and kiss her hand, "Mrs. Windsor, it's an honor to meet you."

Sarah felt he had crossed a line and was about to reprimand him, but when she looked at Lowell's face, she was momentarily dazed. That face reminded her of a younger...

She was momentarily dazed. His face reminded her of a younger...

Lowell softly called her, "Mrs. Windsor."

Sarah snapped back to reality and said quietly, "Mr. Warren, I'm married. Please don't do that again."

Lowell apologized softly.

Sarah wouldn't make a big deal out of a small matter, especially since telling Oliver would only give him more ammunition. She thought about refusing the ticket to avoid any trouble.

Just as she was about to speak, a tall figure entered the terrace. It was Oliver.

His muscular frame was wrapped in a black velvet suit, looking exceptionally handsome. Next to the mature and distinguished businessman, Lowell seemed too inexperienced.

Lowell bowed, "Mr. Windsor, hello!"

Oliver's blue eyes darkened. He walked over, lightly wrapping his arm around Sarah's shoulder, and smiled at her, "A new friend? Aren't you going to introduce us?"

Sarah wasn't sure if he had seen the kiss. She reluctantly introduced them.

"Lowell, a rising star in the entertainment industry. He starred in a very popular drama recently," Sarah introduced.

"Oliver, my husband," she added.

Oliver smiled, "That's not the whole story. I'm not just your husband; I'm also the father of our two children."

He found amusement in being overly affectionate, but Sarah didn't bother to respond. She said to Lowell, "Mr. Warren, it's getting late. My husband and I need to leave. Until next time."

Lowell felt a bit disappointed.

Oliver extended his hand, "Mr. Warren, nice to meet you."

Lowell shook his hand, and his refined face immediately changed color. Oliver, despite his polished appearance, was ruthless and unyielding. Lowell suspected that if Sarah weren't present, Oliver might have given him a beating.

Oliver's gaze carried a warning.

On the way back, the road was bumpy, so the driver drove slowly.

Oliver wanted to chat. He told Sarah about Everett's wife's connections and handed her Everett's wife's business card, casually saying, "She knows at least 20 notable contemporary artists. At the very least, she can help you get started. Once things are stable, you can gradually select the best ones."

Sarah thanked him quietly.

Oliver scoffed, "We're married. Is this small favor really worth thanking me for? By the way, I saw you chatting with Lowell. It's best to stay away from people in the entertainment industry."

The car swayed slightly.

Sarah's expression grew colder. She said, "It was just a brief encounter. I don't plan on keeping in touch."

Oliver glanced at her a few more times before looking straight ahead. He was displeased. He had seen Lowell kiss Sarah's hand. Although Sarah seemed unhappy, she hadn't reacted strongly. The scene reminded Oliver of unpleasant memories and people.

Lowell, from Vesper City, what a coincidence!

Oliver suppressed his irritation.

Back at the villa, while changing clothes, Sarah received a call from Lowell. Before she could answer, Oliver snatched the phone and tossed it onto the coffee table!

Then, Sarah was pinned to the sofa.

Oliver, having had some drinks, was a bit rough. He whispered in her ear like a lover, "Don't contact him again, okay?"

Sarah was still a bit dazed. Oliver repeated it in her ear. 

Her heart tightened. She guessed his meaning. He had seen Lowell kiss her hand and thought Lowell was another Lester. His male pride was hurt, and he wanted to take it out on her.

Sarah gently caressed his face, whispering, "He looks a lot like a younger you. Handsome, refined, with a sparkle in his eyes, and very gentle."

"Oliver, I never saw you when you were young, but I saw the newspapers! if I hadn't met you, if I had met Lowell first, I think I would have liked him."

She said it on purpose!

Oliver's tongue pressed against his cheek. He whispered in her ear, "Young men can't compare to me! Not liking me, preferring young men?"

Sarah closed her eyes. She treated him like he was free, murmuring intermittently, "f I don't like young men, does that mean I should prefer older men—cruel with their words, harsh in their hearts?"

Oliver was provoked. He sneered, "Sarah, you're really asking for it."

After a One Night Stand with the CEO
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