After Jason handed Quinn a tissue, he turned his calm gaze on Grace.
"Let's sit down and talk."
Then, without waiting for permission, he seated himself on the sofa nearby.
He had no intention of treating Grace the same way he had treated the thugs who once bullied Holly Larson. This was different.
Yes—Quinn had been humiliated. Her face, hair, and clothes were soaked in coffee, and people around the café were whispering, pointing at her as if she were a shameless mistress.
But looking at it from Grace's perspective—it wasn't entirely without reason. After all, the man she was financially supporting had gone out behind her back to meet another woman.
Jason would let the facts surface before passing judgment. If Grace had gone too far, then an apology would be enough. There was no need to crush her completely.
As for Ivan? Jason didn't spare him a glance, nor a single word. To him, a man living off another's wealth wasn't worth addressing. Speaking to the one who held the leash was enough.
Grace studied Jason carefully. When she saw that he didn't appear angry, a small wave of relief washed over her. If this Quinn wasn't his actual girlfriend, then maybe—just maybe—things would be easier to resolve.
Ivan, however, felt his blood drain. He stood stiff as a board, his hands trembling.
He'd spent years packaging himself as some kind of prince since college—studying luxury brands, memorizing watch models, even outdoing wealthy men in trivia about timepieces. He recognized Jason's watch instantly: Richard Mille.
And suddenly, he understood why Grace had treated Jason with such caution.
Could this really be Quinn's man? Ivan thought, his stomach twisting. If it was true, then he hadn't just angered Grace—he'd stumbled into the path of someone far more dangerous.
Grace forced a smile and sat across from Jason. "Sir, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Grace, president of CloudTech Solutions. Clearly, there's been some kind of misunderstanding here. Let me apologize first."
Jason waved his hand lightly. "Let's not jump to conclusions. Why don't you explain everything to me in detail?"
Though relieved at his calmness, Grace didn't dare take him lightly. She carefully laid out her side of the story—showing Jason Ivan's phone, the chat logs, his messages in group chats, even a recording.
Jason read through them in silence.
His initial thought—that Quinn had brought this on herself—softened slightly. At least she hadn't crossed the line too far. She had brought Lily with her, which made things less suspicious, though it was still thoughtless and reckless.
Pitiful? Yes, a little. But Jason wasn't the type to get swayed by pity alone. He'd seen worse, and unless someone gave him a reason to step in, he rarely did.
Still, compared to Holly Larson's incident—where the injustice had been blatant—this was more complicated.
Grace leaned forward nervously. "Sir, how do you think we should handle this?"
Jason's expression didn't change. He waved his hand slightly. "No rush. Let's wait for your bosses to arrive."
Grace's face went pale. Cold sweat broke across her forehead. He contacted the owners?
Minutes later, two luxury cars pulled up outside the café.
The doors opened, and two sharply dressed young men stepped out. It was Chris and Ethan, the co-founders of CloudTech Solutions.
They strode quickly into the café. Grace immediately stood to greet them, panic tightening her chest. For her, this was still a small incident, but if the bosses were involved, her position as president could be at risk.
But Chris and Ethan ignored her completely. Their eyes locked on Jason, and with respectful urgency, they approached.
"Mr. Jason," Chris said with a polite bow of his head.
"Thank you for waiting," Ethan added, his tone deferential.
Grace froze in place. Mr. Jason?
In this day and age, almost no one used such old-fashioned, formal honorifics. Yet hearing it here, from her bosses of all people, made her realize just how far above her league Jason truly was.
"Isn't it all just called boss? Why are they calling him General?"
That was the thought running through Grace's mind.
It wasn't Jason's business partners Chu Zi and Fei Hong anymore—it was Chris and Frank, and the way they addressed Jason wasn't casual at all. Their tone carried a weight of respect, almost like a military honorific.
This time, Chris and Frank sat across from Jason, while even Grace had to stand quietly off to the side.
The content of their conversation made her jaw tighten in disbelief.
This Jason was actually planning to acquire CloudTech Solutions.
CloudTech was no small-time startup. The company was thriving, its valuation steadily climbing. Under normal conditions, it would never be for sale. But Grace knew something most outsiders didn't: because of a rift between its two co-founders, the company really could end up on the market.
Chris and Frank had been college buddies, launching their venture side by side, pouring sweat and sleepless nights into it. In the beginning, everything was democratic—every decision was discussed, every plan made together. But as the business scaled, production lines expanded, and the stakes grew higher, cracks began to form.
Fights broke out over decision-making. Clashes over who had the final say.
The friendship soured. They had considered selling the company before, but the offers weren't good enough, and neither man wanted to let go of his hard-earned empire at a bargain price.
Jason had clearly done his homework. He knew they wouldn't let it go cheap. And he wasn't trying to. Instead, he offered not just the market valuation—but a premium of 30 million dollars.
The negotiations didn't drag. Within the hour, it was settled. Jason would acquire 100% of CloudTech Solutions at a total of $240 million.
As soon as Jason's attorney arrived, the two sides' lawyers began drafting contracts right there in the café.
Grace could only stare in shock.
A two hundred forty-million-dollar acquisition… handled as casually as ordering lunch?
Even the wealthiest heirs in the city wouldn't move money this easily.
It was one thing to hear stories about power and wealth; it was another to watch someone treat an entire company like a grocery item to be picked up on a whim.
And all this, Grace realized, was because Jason wanted to stand up for his female classmate.
He really spent millions of dollars just to make a point? Just to humiliate a man who wronged her?
That kind of wealth… was terrifying.
Quinn sat frozen, their mouths slightly open.
Jason finally turned toward Grace, his voice calm but edged with steel.
"Ms. Grace, my classmate Quinn may have gone for coffee with the man you're keeping, but she had no idea what kind of person he was. She didn't cross any line."
"Strictly speaking, this Ivan had ulterior motives. Quinn was just being kind—encouraging him to reconcile with his girlfriend. And for that, you chose to attack her?" Jason leaned back, eyes narrowing. "An apology is the least you can do."
Grace's heart seized.
He was giving her a chance. If he hadn't… she didn't even want to imagine what Jason could have done to her life and reputation with his resources.
She rushed to Quinn's side, bowing her head.
"Ms Quinn, I lost my temper earlier. I know you only meant well, but I still acted offensively toward you."
And with that, she lifted the full cup of steaming coffee from the table and, without hesitation, poured it over her own head.
In seconds, her blouse was soaked, hair dripping, makeup smeared.
She looked like a drowned cat.
Still, she bowed again, humiliated but resolute:
"Quinn, I accept whatever punishment you give. You can yell, slap me, anything."
Quinn, whose tears had already dried, just shook her head. Her eyes were red, but her voice was steady.
"I'm not angry with you. I was angry at him. You don't need to do this."
Her words were sincere. Quinn's fury had never been for Grace—it was all directed at Ivan, the snake who had tried to lure her into trouble.
Grace turned back toward Jason, silently asking what more was required.
Jason merely waved his hand dismissively. "It's done. Don't make it worse."
Relief flickered across her face.
Then, Jason finally lifted his gaze to Ivan—his first direct look at the man since he'd stepped into the café. His voice dropped, cold and cutting:
"But Ms. Grace… why is your dog still standing so unruly?"
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