Chapter 669 Quentin Arrives
Grace, while fanning herself and tugging at her clothes, responded, "You wouldn't."
With a light laugh, he asked, "How do you know I wouldn't?"
Grace continued to tug at her clothes.
She was really hot.
Her voice was becoming increasingly strained, but she maintained a clear mind to analyze.
"I've seen your work."
"You're very handsome, and it's precisely because of your looks and the attention you attract that many people view you with bias."
"Although many people say you're just a popular star with no acting skills, I think your acting is quite good among your peers. It's just a bit raw and needs more refinement."
"I've also noticed some details in your acting that show you respect women."
"A man who respects women like that, I don't think you would have any ill intentions towards me."
"Besides, if I'm not mistaken, I should be a few years older than you. You probably like younger, gentler girls, so why would you like someone older like me?"
Mark was even more impressed with Grace now.
She was drunk, yet she could say so much in this state.
And her analysis made a lot of sense.
"Your analysis is very logical," Mark remarked. "But, you missed one thing."
"What?" Grace had just asked.
Suddenly, the traffic in front cleared, and Mark stepped on the gas.
The sudden acceleration made Grace lurch forward.
As the car moved, the cool breeze through the window finally alleviated some of the heat.
"Mark, I trust your character."
"Blue Sky Villa is the address, please take me there."
Mark smirked, "You want me to take you to Quentin?"
Hearing that name, Grace's eyes widened in disbelief, and she couldn't help but think.
'Could it be that Mark already knew about my relationship with Quentin? This was a dangerous sign.'
"Are you sure you want to go to him?" Mark asked again.
His tone was no longer questioning but very certain.
"How do you know?" Grace was too shocked to say anything else.
Mark had that faint smile, "It's not surprising, I know a lot about you."
Grace had a very bad feeling and didn't dare to ask further.
"Thank you for taking me there."
After saying that, she could no longer control herself and fell into a deep sleep.
Watching her sleep, Mark's lips curled into a smile.
With both hands on the steering wheel, he made a decisive right turn at the intersection.
He glanced at Grace in the back seat and muttered to himself.
"You are indeed very smart and observant."
"But there's one thing you got wrong. How do you know I don't like older women?"
"Wrong, I just like women older than me, like you."
Mark took Grace straight to his villa.
He carried her inside.
The servants were all shocked to see him carrying a woman in.
They had served here for so long and had never seen Mark bring a woman home.
This was truly astonishing.
Upstairs, Mark laid her on the bed.
Seeing how hot she was, with beads of sweat on her forehead, he wiped her face with a towel.
Just as he was about to cover her with a blanket.
Suddenly, a servant rushed up, "Mr. Stoll, someone is downstairs looking for you, causing a commotion."
"Who?" Mark asked.
"We don't know, but they brought a lot of people and are shouting your name. It's very intimidating."
Mark glanced at Grace on the bed and instructed in a deep voice, "Take good care of her, I'll be right down."
As he went downstairs, Mark felt a bit excited.
In the living room, when he saw Quentin, Mark smiled.
That handsome face showed a smile that could be described as enchanting, yet it was cold.
"So it really is you?" Mark looked at Quentin and calmly spoke.
At the same time, Quentin also spoke.
However, his voice was cold without a trace of warmth.
His gaze was piercing, nearly ablaze with intensity, fixed upon Mark."I wondered who it could be. Didn't expect Mr. Stoll to be doing such things."
"Mr. Taft, you're joking. What have I done?" Mark sneered.
"Kidnapping!"
Compared to Mark's calmness, Quentin seemed more agitated.
Quentin couldn't hold back any longer. He rushed forward, grabbed Mark by the collar, and his voice was icy cold, "Where is she?"
"Who?" Mark pretended not to understand. "This is ridiculous, Mr. Taft. How did you end up looking for someone here?"
"Mark, I advise you not to play dumb. You know who I'm talking about. Hand her over now." Quentin was extremely furious.
"Mr. Taft, such arrogance. What if I don't?"
Mark remained calm, showing no fear.
"Then you're asking for trouble, Mark. Even if the Powell family were under your control, I wouldn't be afraid of you."
With that, Quentin's fist landed hard.
It was a brutal punch.
Blood immediately appeared at the corner of Mark's mouth.
But Mark just wiped the blood away and continued to smile, "Mr. Taft, so powerful. Yet you couldn't even protect your girlfriend back then, letting her be insulted, humiliated, harmed, oppressed, and despised."
At this point, Mark finally got angry, "You couldn't even protect your girlfriend, what kind of man are you?"
Quentin sneered, "That's between her and me, not for you to judge."
"Mark, remember this: Grace is my lover. If you have any inappropriate thoughts, you'd better clear them out, or I'll retaliate against the Powell family."
Pushing Mark away, Quentin quickly ran upstairs.
Then he burst through the door.
Seeing someone coming up, the person Mark had instructed to take care of Grace, instinctively stepped forward. "Who are you?"
But Quentin pushed her aside.
Seeing Grace fully clothed and lying on the bed, and after checking that she had no visible injuries, Quentin finally breathed a sigh of relief.
He leaned down and held Grace in his arms.
"Grace, don't be afraid. We're going home. I'm here to take you back!"
Quentin carried Grace to the living room.
Surprisingly, Mark didn't stop them but watched them leave.
After Quentin left, a servant saw the blood at the corner of Mark's mouth and immediately ran up, "Mr. Stoll, please sit down, let me treat your wound."
"No need." Mark waved his hand to refuse.
He went upstairs and stared blankly at the spot where Grace had just lain.
In his thoughts, he couldn't refrain from reminiscing about the initial encounter with Grace.
During that period, Grace was already a prominent luminary;
Meanwhile, Mark, despite his status as the younger son of the Powell lineage, remained a mere anonymous student at the university.
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