Chapter 827 He Is Really Gentle Tonight
Wooing My Ex-Wife
Whitney was inherently timid, and with that being her first time attending such an event, she was simply out of her element. Unable to help herself, her hand on Charlesâ arm tightened.
However, out of basic courtesy, she still inclined her head at Tristan with a smile.
Seeing the manâs gaze lingering on Whitney, Charles wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. His indifferent voice carried an innate sense of authority. âMr. Lowe, it seems our companies are not compatible. Letâs not waste each otherâs time in the future. Goodbye.â
After he had said that, he took Whitney to another part of the banquet hall and called Isaac.
âTerminate all collaboration with Lowe Group.â
Terminate all collaboration?
Hearing that, Whitney was utterly shocked.
Is he terminating all collaboration with Lowe Group just because Mr. Lowe looked at me lasciviously?
But to my knowledge, Lowe Group and Newton Group have always been on good terms. Wouldnât such a sudden decision bring losses to the company?
She surreptitiously lifted her head and glanced at Charles, calling out tentatively. âMr. Newtonâ¦â
He lowered his gaze to meet hers, his cold eyes never once softening.
Seemingly noticing her dilemma and confusion, Charles patiently explained for once. âToday, you are my companion. The fact that the man dared to look at you in such a manner in front of me makes it clear that he doesnât respect me. Such a person is not worthy of collaborating with Newton Group.â
In other words, he was merely using Tristan to establish his dominance.
Even so, warmth suffused Whitney.
She gave a slight nod and whispered, âThank you, Charles.â
This time, she didnât address him as Mr. Newton but placed them on equal footing as friends.
Upon hearing the change in address, Charles lifted his gaze but said nothing. He continued to lead her further in.
The music at the charity gala suddenly changed, transitioning from slow and relaxed to sultry dance music.
Whitneyâs body stiffened at once. There would be dancing at such galas usually, but having grown up in the mountains, she was wholly clueless about the dance steps.
She unconsciously tightened her grip on his arm.
Her nervousness was clearly evident. Charles knew that it was her first time attending such at charity gala, and there were many etiquettes she didnât understand. He patiently explained them to her without showing any signs of impatience, âIâm here.â
Those words seemed to be a soothing balm, easing Whitneyâs tension and unease.
As they walked in further, increasingly more people there greeted and talked with Charles.
Aware of his business standing, she didnât want to be a constant hindrance by his side. Thus, she took the initiative to suggest, âUm⦠I think Iâll wait for you at the side. You get busy with your work first.â
She knew all too well that such a large-scale business gala was generally the best opportunity. for business elites to exchange information and collaborate.
But she didnât quite understand what they were saying, so it might be better to step aside to avoid causing him any trouble.
Charles nodded. âWait here for me. Donât wander around.â
âDonât worry, Mr. Newton.â
Whitney flashed him a sweet smile.
Charles turned around and left.
Phew!
Only when his figure gradually receded into the distance did Whitney dare heave a long sigh of relief.
She rotated her ankles that ached from wearing high heels, planning to find a place to lean. and rest.
While she was looking around, a man holding a wine glass approached her.
âCan I assist you with anything, pretty?â
His voice was pleasing to the ear, and Whitney looked up at him.
He also had blond hair and emerald eyes, evident that he wasnât from Chanaca.
However, Whitney did not let her guard down despite their similar appearances. She demurred smilingly. âThank you for your kindness, but Iâm waiting for someone.â
Having said that, she took a few steps away, putting some distance between them.
Everyone attending the gala was accompanied by either a female or male companion. The man looked like a playboy, and she didnât want to invite trouble.
Despite being rejected, the man didnât leave. Instead, he went after her and initiated at conversation.
âI wonder which lucky gentleman has such a beautiful lady waiting for him. Waiting is boring. Since fate had us meet, why donât we share a drink? We can be friends.â
Subsequently, he hollered, âWaiter.â
He snapped his fingers. Immediately, a waiter came over with a glass of wine and handed it to him.
He was so enthusiastic that it was hard for Whitney to refuse him, so she clinked glasses with him.
After taking a sip, she placed her wine glass on the long table and said, âI have something to attend to, so Iâll be leaving first.â
She tried to leave as though fleeing, but unexpectedly, the man grabbed her wrist as she whirled around.
Taken aback, she glanced at Charles, who was conversing with a business partner in the distance, and warned in a low voice, âPlease let go of me, mister! Otherwise, Iâll call for help!â
The man forcefully pulled her toward him, closing the distance between them.
âWouldnât it be a pity to keep waiting for someone in such a wonderful atmosphere, pretty? Our fortuitous meeting amidst the crowd is God-given fate. Why should we let it go to waste?â
The manâs gaze wandered up and down her body.
Such a look made Whitney feel beyond uncomfortable.
âPlease have some respect, mister!â
She looked in Charlesâ direction for help. Alas, people kept walking up to him, blocking her line of sight.
Just then, the lights at the charity gala suddenly dimmed. Amidst the music, people around them rushed to the dance floor and began to dance.
âMay I have the honor of this dance, miss?â
Although it was a question, the man continued holding onto her wrist, not allowing her any room to decline.
âTake your hand off her.â
A pair of massive hands suddenly wrapped around her waist from behind, followed by a voice filled with warning. âWhich company are you from that you dared touch my female companion? Do you want to be thrown out of Salinsburgh?â
A familiar feeling washed over Whitney, and she instinctively leaned toward Charles.
âMy apologies. I mistook her for someone else and meant no offense to this ladyâ Charlesâ imposing presence intimidated the man from taking things further, leaving him no choice but to leave resentfully.
That was Whitneyâs first time attending such an event, the first time she was invited to dance at a charity gala, and in a manner that made it impossible to refuse to boot.
Sweat trickled down Whitneyâs face. Her eyes were teary, rendering her like a frightened deer, so pitiful that one couldnât help feeling sorry for her.
Her palms were slick with sweat, and she wanted to pull her hand away, but Charles only gripped it tighter.
He raised a hand and rested it on her waist before placing her other hand on his shoulder. gently shifting his feet.
âDonât be afraid. Iâll be by your side.â
The lights at the gala were soft, casting a gentle glow on his face. His deep blue eyes were incredibly tender and patient. In a daze, Whitney thought she was looking at an angel.
His large hand was very warm, and it gradually dispelled the fear within her.
Knowing that she couldnât dance, Charles patiently taught her, speaking into her ear softly. For a moment, she couldnât tell whether it was reality or a dream.
Her eyes unfocused, she lifted her head, only to meet his gaze as he looked down at her.
Their eyes locked, and her heart involuntarily skipped a beat.
Heâs⦠really gentle tonight.