Mysterious Mrs. Pansy

“I don’t like your family, and that includes Patrick,” Jane’s voice, equal parts arrogant and charming, echoed in Patrick’s ears.

Jane didn’t like him.

Why? What was wrong with him? Patrick furrowed his brow, trying to discern her reasons. He had always been a proud man.

This was the first time he’d felt the sting of being disliked.

He had always been the one with disdain for others, but now he was the one facing it.

Jane, seeing Patrick standing there with a sour expression, inquired, “Patrick, I thought you wanted to stay home. Why did you come here all of a sudden?”

Before Patrick could respond, Melissa chimed in.

“Cousin, you came at just the right time. Look at my face; this is what Jane did to me. She even hit your mom.”

Jane was left speechless.

When had she hit Beatrice and Melissa? “I told you not to cause any trouble for her.”

Patrick retorted, giving Melissa a stern look that sent shivers down her spine.

Nervously blinking, she looked to Beatrice for support.

“Auntie…”

“Patrick, what’s so special about this woman? Why are you so protective of her?” Beatrice asked angrily.

How could her son be so kind to this country girl? She couldn’t fathom it.

“I only know Grandpa likes her,” Patrick replied.

“And he’s not in good health. Do you want to jeopardize his health by angering him?”

“You…”

Beatrice was about to say more but held back. Patrick had used Grandpa as an excuse, which Beatrice couldn’t argue against.

“I said I’d leave, but not right away,” Jane said, looking at the torn-up check pieces on the floor. “You better keep the fifty million for yourself.”

With that, she walked out of the conference room.

“Auntie, look at her attitude! What’s wrong with her?”

Melissa exclaimed, stamping her foot in anger. She had hoped that by making Patrick get hurt, she could get Beatrice to drive Jane away, but her plan backfired.

Patrick still protected her!

“Patrick, is your hand alright?” Beatrice asked, gently grabbing his hand.

“It’s fine.” Patrick withdrew his hand from her grasp.

Beatrice snorted. “I heard you got hurt because of Jane.”

“It has nothing to do with her,” Patrick said coldly.

“Mom, don’t create more problems for Jane.”

“Am I causing problems for her?”

Beatrice retorted, frustrated by her son’s accusation.

“Patrick, I’m doing this for your own good. Are you really going to marry this country girl? What’s so special about her? At best, she’s just beautiful. Why are you so infatuated with her? Women like her are unruly and greedy. Who knows what shameless things she might have done behind your back!”

“Exactly!”Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

Melissa chimed in eagerly.

“Jane’s from the countryside. What else can she do but seduce men? You’ve been kept in the dark. The last time I went shopping with my friend, we saw Jane with a man.”

“What man?” Patrick asked with a frown.

“Carl Waters,” Melissa revealed. “I don’t know how she knows Carl. The two of them were very close, walking hand in hand…”

“Enough!” Patrick yelled, his handsome face darkened with anger.

“Jane and Carl are just friends. Don’t make unfounded accusations.”

But, try as he might, he couldn’t get the image of Jane singing to Carl at the bar that day out of his mind.

Without another word, he turned and headed back to his office, wearing a sour expression. He glanced at the documents on his desk, but his mind couldn’t focus on the words.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the image of Jane and Carl being close.

Outside, Morton approached, holding a document for Patrick to sign. But as he neared the door, he overheard Patrick sternly berating someone. “Why is there a typo?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll fix it immediately,” the department manager, whom Patrick was addressing, said, sweating profusely in front of the CEO. He felt the CEO was different today. Sure, his face never looked particularly happy, but today, he’d spent over half an hour berating the manager over a typo.

“Go and fix it right now!” Patrick ordered, tossing the document at him.

“Yes, sir,” the manager said, nodding, and hurried out of the office. When he encountered Morton at the door, he advised, “He’s in a bad mood today. Be careful.”

In a bad mood? The CEO almost always had a cold look. When was he ever in a good mood? Morton knocked on the door, unsure of what to expect.

“Come in!” Patrick called out, his voice sharper than before.

As soon as Morton stepped into the office, a chilling atmosphere enveloped him. “Mr. Pansy, this document needs to be signed,” he said, handing Patrick the document he was holding.

Patrick took the document, frowned, and asked, “Isn’t this document supposed to be sent to the partner this afternoon? Why didn’t you bring it to me earlier for signing?”

Morton felt a shiver down his spine, knowing the reason he didn’t bring the document earlier was that Patrick had been on leave all morning.

Sensing Morton’s unease, Patrick asked, “Why didn’t you come to my place to get my signature?”

Morton’s scalp tingled under Patrick’s icy gaze. “I’ll remember to do that next time.”

Reluctantly, Patrick decided to sign the document. Once he’d reclaimed the signed document, Morton turned to leave, but then Patrick asked, “If a woman doesn’t like a man, what do you think the reason might be?”

Morton paused in bewilderment. A woman didn’t like a man? What was he talking about? Who was this woman? Who was the man? Had some woman turned Patrick down? But that was unimaginable; many women were vying for his attention. If such a woman did exist, how on earth could he know the reason? After pondering for a moment, Morton suggested, “Maybe it’s because the man isn’t good enough.”

“Get out!” Patrick yelled in frustration.

After Jane returned to her office, she buried herself in work. The meeting with Bruce had gone well. He was highly satisfied with her plan and hoped to launch new products as soon as possible.

In the coming days, Jane would be swamped. She needed to oversee the progress of the new product launch and ensure it proceeded quickly. Just as she was about to start calling the relevant staff for a production issue meeting, her phone rang. It was a call from Patrick.

“Hello,” she greeted as she picked up the call, but before she could finish the word, a cold voice from the other end cut her off. “Come to my office.”