?<strong>Chapter 534:</strong>


    The phone on the table suddenly rang, and Jayden picked it up, his eyes immediately drawn to the familiar name on the screen: Tobin.


    “Mr. Owen, I heard there’s a gathering at your grandpa’s ce tomorrow night. Rumor has it that he might officially sever ties with you.”


    Jayden stared at the message, his mind racing. He turned to Elyse, who was idly plucking grapes and popping them into her mouth. “Do you really not mind if I cut the cord with the Owens?”


    Elyse shrugged nonchntly, unfazed. “It doesn’t ruffle my feathers, why should it bother me?” she replied, the corners of her mouth quirking up ever so slightly.


    Jayden felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He typed out a casual “Whatever” in response to Tobin, setting the phone down with a sense of finality.


    His mind drifted to the countless unpleasant gatherings held by his grandpa in the past—a veritable minefield of strained smiles and passive-aggressive jabs. Cutting ties could just be the clean break he needed, a chance to turn the page and leave those scheming people behind.


    Elyse, oblivious to Jayden’s introspection, finished her grapes and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. She then slipped into bed, her eyelids already growing heavy.


    After wrapping up his work, Jayden looked over at his sleeping wife. He got up and sat beside her, watching her intently with his arms crossed. He longed to join her, to feel her warmth beside him, but the single hospital bed made that impossible.


    Jayden thought about it for a moment but then decided to drop the idea. He didn’t want to return to his ward, so hey on another bed and messaged Peyton, asking him to teach him some tricks about how to cate a mad wife.


    The next morning, after catching some good sleep, Corrie drove over to the beauty salon, dead set on looking wless from head to toe for the gathering tonight.


    By the afternoon, she’d wrapped up her beauty treatments and dialed Brook’s number as she headed to the makeup room.


    Brook, buried in paperwork at his desk, hesitated to pick up the call at first. But with the dinner looming in his mind, he begrudgingly answered.


    Corrie, admiring her freshly done nails,zily asked, “What time are you getting out of the office? I’ve lined up a makeup session for you too. Just make sure you show up at the room I booked.”


    Brook, caught off guard by the makeup suggestion, impatiently retorted, “Why on earth would I need makeup? I’m a guy, for crying out loud! Are you serious right now?”


    Corrie’s temper red instantly. “Your grandpa invited me to tonight’s dinner. If it weren’t for you being my boyfriend, you wouldn’t even be on the invite list.”


    “What’s that supposed to mean?” Brook shot back, his irritation rising.


    Corrie snapped, “Can’t you understand? If you mess this up and embarrass me, don’t even think about showing your face at your grandpa’s gatherings with my blessing!”


    Brook, feeling unfairly attacked, clenched his fists. “Corrie, you’re pushing it! I’m part of the Owen family. How dare you talk to me like that?”


    “You’re part of the family, fine. But why do you need me to hold your hand to attend dinner?” Corrie scoffed, her disdain evident. “Well, if I recall correctly, only Jayden used to grace these dinners among the younger lot. You’re not even worth one of his pinkies, so why the entitlement?”


    Corrie checked her watch, her tone final. “I don’t care what you’re up to! You better be at the makeup room in half an hour. No show, no entry. I’m going solo!”


    With that ultimatum, she hung up before Brook could reply, slid on her shades, and enjoyed the scenery outside the car window.


    “Freaking Corrie! That’s it! I’m done with you!” Brook exploded, mming his fist on the desk, his chest heaving.


    Outside, his assistant heard the racket and cautiously entered the room, finding Brook’s eyes aze. “Is everything okay? Do you need me to fetch a doctor?” the assistant inquired, concerned.


    Brook loosened his tie and gestured to the documents, “I’ve tackled the urgent stuff. Signed, sealed, delivered. The rest is on me tonight. I’m out of here.”


    The assistant nodded, grabbing the papers, and Brook stormed out of the office, heading for the parking lot.


    As he waited for the elevator, he bumped into Debora. Seeing him ready to bolt, Debora questioned, “Aren’t you sticking around for the meetingter? You’re expected to be there, aren’t you?”


    “It’s nothing crucial. You handle it,” Brook dismissed her, eager to avoid further conversation. As the elevator doors slid open, he stepped inside, his expression resolute.


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