Julian Rathborne’s men had the place sealed tight, not even a mosquito could get out. Isabelle Willow returned to her room. She was still worried about Seraphina Linden, so she took out her phone and sent a message to Hayden Crawford. As soon as she sent it, she heard the voice of that young man by her ear, "Hi, beautiful." Isabelle Willow turned her head and saw the young man wearing cat ears and shaking his hips in front of her. Looking at the young man’s face, which was strikingly similar to Jude Crawford’s, Isabelle Willow felt as if she was watching Jude Crawford wearing cat ears and shaking his hips in front of her. The scene was simply... unbearable to watch. Jude Crawford would never do such a thing. A deep, noble titan of the business world like him, this kind of thing was beneath him. Isabelle Willow suddenly remembered the first time she met Jude Crawford many years ago. At that time, she was still studying. One day, the school was buzzing, and all the students were rushing to the auditorium, talking excitedly, "Hurry up, Jude Crawford is here!" "Today Jude Crawford is invited to give a lecture at our school. I finally have the chance to see the first business elite of Aethelgard!" "I’ve heard he’s so handsome, it’s infuriating." Isabelle Willow, by nature cold and indifferent, wasn’t intending to join the commotion. She wanted to leave, but a good friend pulled her along, "Yara, let’s go and take a look. It’s Jude Crawford!" Isabelle Willow was thus dragged there. That day, it was a sea of people. She stood amidst the crowd, raised her head, and saw Jude Crawford on the podium in one glance. The young Jude Crawford was in his prime back then. As the eldest grandson of the Crawford family’s noble lineage in Aethelgard, he was born a prodigy. He perfectly inherited all the business talents of the Crawford family, and at 18, he took his first company public in Silicon Valley, his personal wealth rising to the Forbes rich list, and was hailed as Aethelgard’s premier business aristocrat. On that day, Jude Crawford wore a perfectly fitting black suit. He stood tall like jade on the podium, his deep, narrow eyes scanning the room, like an emperor’s presence, unparalleled in grace, astonishing all, worthy of reverence. Isabelle Willow quickly composed herself and dismissed the initial encounter from her mind. She had no interest in the young man, so she left the room. The young man still didn’t know what happened, "Hey, beauty, why did you leave?" The young man couldn’t figure out why he had fallen out of favor. ... Check latest chapters at NoveI★Fire.net When Isabelle Willow went out, Julian Rathborne had already left with his men, so she could also leave. Walking along the corridor, a group of girls ran over, "Let’s go quickly, the boss is calling for us." The girls were very excited, "I heard a rich guy wants the prettiest girl in the luxury suite." "The prettiest girl must be me. Is my lipstick smudged?" The girls were tugging their skimpy dresses down, showing their curves, clearly all hoping to be chosen. Isabelle Willow didn’t pause her steps. She wasn’t surprised by such things; nowadays, many wealthy men enjoyed buying pleasure. Then the boss lady came, leading the girls to the door of the luxury suite, and knocked, "Sir, the prettiest girls here have arrived." A few seconds later, a deep, magnetic voice sounded from inside, "Enter." Isabelle Willow suddenly froze, her steps gradually coming to a halt. She turned, her cool apricot eyes falling on that luxury suite. Though it was a simple word, the voice was incredibly familiar, so deeply familiar she wouldn’t mistake it. This should be... Jude Crawford! Could it be he was the one wanting the prettiest girl here? The boss lady opened the door of the luxury suite, "Girls, quickly come in." They all went in, and Isabelle Willow, standing outside, saw the scene inside. In the luxury suite, the girls stood in a line, under dim lighting, and on the burgundy sofa sat a man, Jude Crawford. Jude Crawford had taken off his jacket, revealing an inner dark gray shirt and black trousers. He leaned his tall and imposing frame lazily against the sofa, his two long legs elegantly crossed, exuding an aura of superiority and the profound mystery a man of his age should possess. His personal assistant stood respectfully behind him, while Butler Thorne, wearing white gloves, poured some Gallia vintage red wine into a goblet and handed it to Jude Crawford, "Sir." Jude Crawford extended his hand to take it, placing one long arm casually over the back of the sofa as he sipped the wine. Then his deep, narrow eyes glanced at the girls, with a faint look. Isabelle Willow’s pupils shrank; could it really be... him? Was he here to buy company? Isabelle Willow wasn’t aware of his recent emotional state, but Seraphina Linden mentioned that his current wife is Zelda Willow, and Isabelle knew that Zelda had given him a son. The day that son was born was the day she mourned the loss of her daughter. Both she and Zelda had been pregnant back then. She was supposed to have a daughter, and Hayden a sister, but... He wasn’t young anymore, over fifty now. Isabelle Willow looked at his chiseled handsome face. Time had given him a richer life experience; his eyes bore fine lines but showed no sign of age, instead exuding an indescribable male charm. Isabelle Willow hadn’t expected to encounter him here, finding him out to buy pleasure. Did his wife Zelda Willow know about his purchase of pleasure? "Sir, the prettiest girls are all here; which ones would you like to keep?" The boss lady smiled at Jude Crawford, wondering why this man looked somewhat familiar. The boss lady hadn’t had the chance to meet a man like Jude Crawford before, and if one day she knew that the real Jude Crawford had stood before her, she would be overwhelmed with emotion. Jude Crawford dispassionately swirled the wine in his hand, watching the red, rich liquid dance in glistening arcs within the translucent glass, "What are your specialties? Tell me about them." The girls were all dazed by Jude Crawford. A man in his fifties had an aura unparalleled by men in their twenties or thirties, whom they would willingly spend a night with. "I have a large chest!" "I have the prettiest face!"... Isabelle Willow stood outside watching these women vying with each other. They were very excited, looking at Jude Crawford with admiration and anticipation. And Jude Crawford sat elegantly on the sofa, much like an emperor selecting which concubine to favor for the night. Isabelle Willow lightly curved her red lips, then turned to leave.