The villas in Royal Bay started at a minimum of 1,000 square meters, costing at least $50 million according to current market prices. Helena believed that since her grandfather had purchased this villa for her, she would never relinquish it.

Herman glared at Helena, his expression cold. “I made it perfectly clear. This house is for Nash and his wife. Since you refuse to marry Nash, it has nothing to do with you.”

Helena, noticing her grandfather's drastic change in attitude, approached him, affecting a charming demeanor. “Grandpa… Royal Bay residents are all influential dignitaries. Living there would allow me to establish valuable connections for us, wouldn't it?” Her true motive, however, was that the Watsons also owned a Royal Bay property. Proximity would strengthen the families' relationship.

Herman brushed her hand aside. “My decision is final. There's nothing more to say.” Helena's broken engagement had deeply humiliated him. Only Nash's understanding had prevented a far more difficult explanation to Master Calcraft. His previous fondness for Helena stemmed solely from her engagement to Nash. Now that Hera was Nash's fiancée, he no longer cared for Helena's family.

Helena's eyes welled up, threatening to overflow. Her usual spoiled tactics, once successful, now proved ineffective.

“Mr. Zoel, handle this immediately!” Herman instructed their lawyer firmly.

“Understood, Mr. Lewis,” Zoel replied, departing with his briefcase.

Feeling utterly defeated, Helena glared resentfully at Hera and Nash. She couldn't understand her grandfather's apparent favoritism towards this "country bumpkin."

Hubert's face darkened, a hint of murderous intent flickering in his eyes. Nash subtly observed him. Hubert's surprise upon Hera's earlier arrival, coupled with the families' relationships, confirmed Nash's suspicion regarding the assassins' mastermind.

Hera, clinging to her mother's arm, looked up. “Mom, I was right. Grandpa values Nash, not Helena!” The gift of the Royal Bay villa clearly demonstrated Nash's importance to her grandfather. She'd once dreamed of company success, enabling her to buy her parents a Royal Bay villa. Reality, however, was far crueler. The company's profits had plummeted in the past two quarters, threatening bankruptcy within two years. Now, with Nash as her fiancé and her grandfather's favor, she hoped for his intervention.

“My daughter has struck gold! Unlike some people who are utterly incompetent and lack vision!” Lauren Mare assessed Nash, finding him increasingly appealing.

Harrison twitched his mouth. ‘Just say my name! Why beat around the bush?’

Herman had already seated Nash for the meal. Hubert, having made an excuse, left angrily. Helena then approached Hera, sneering arrogantly. “Hera, don't mistake this villa for the Lewises' affection. I gave you the villa! That worthless trash, he's garbage I rejected! You merely picked up my refuse! Wait until I marry Kai. I'll show you the difference between a crow and a phoenix!”

Hera, trembling under the cruel mockery, retorted, “Don't push it, Helena! I've been more than patient!” Years of enduring Helena's insults had ended. She would no longer tolerate such treatment.

Harrison, standing protectively before his daughter, narrowed his eyes. “Helena, you’re an adult. Control yourself.” Herman’s past indulgence had prevented him from stronger reprimands.

Lauren pushed Harrison aside, staring coldly at Helena. “Helena, aren't you going too far?”

Lauren's cold gaze unsettled Helena. Lauren's influential family background and Capiton University of Finance and Economics education commanded respect. Without Lauren, her father would have long since destroyed their family's company.

“We’ll see how long your complacency lasts!” Helena sneered, departing confidently.

Lauren turned to Hera. “Hera, you’re too much like your father—indecisive and hesitant. Spend more time in finance, observe my methods!”

Hera, wiping away tears, nodded silently.

At the dinner table, Nash toasted Herman three times. The alcohol overwhelmed Herman, his speech slurring.

“Nashy, I apologize for the engagement fiasco!”

“Grandpa, you're too hard on yourself. Marriage can’t be forced, and Hera surpasses Helena. I should thank you for this excellent match!” Nash smiled.

“Hahaha… To turn a mistake into praise… truly worthy of Master Calcraft's tutelage! Hera's fortunate to marry you!” Herman laughed, his wrinkles softening. “Fill my glass! Three more toasts to my grandson-in-law!”

“Dad, no more!” Harrison swiftly removed Herman’s glass.

Herman’s face darkened. “I’m happy! What’s wrong with a few more drinks?”

Nash observed Herman's yellowish complexion, swollen eyes, and pale lips—signs of gastrointestinal distress.

“Your health is paramount. We can drink later,” Nash smiled. “If you trust me, Grandpa, let me take your pulse.”

Harrison’s surprise was evident. “You practice medicine?”

Herman glared. “Nashy is Master Calcraft’s disciple. Why the surprise?”

Harrison’s mouth twitched. His father often mentioned Master Calcraft, but who was he, exactly? And why was his disciple so plainly dressed?

“It’s just an old problem. Medicine will suffice. Don’t worry, Nashy,” Herman waved dismissively, unwilling to be examined. Yet, Nash saw bitterness in his eyes. Herman’s reluctance stemmed from fear of Nash’s diagnosis. Nash simply said, “If you feel unwell, tell me, Grandpa!” A fleeting glimmer shone in his eyes. He'd already observed Herman’s stomach tumor—malignant. Were the Lewises unaware?

“Hahaha… Definitely… Definitely… Let’s eat, the food’s getting cold!” Herman laughed it off.

Nash ate silently. Three years since his last mission; three years without meat.

After three rounds of drinks, Hera’s family departed with Nash. Herman saw them off, reminding them, “Marry and obtain your marriage certificate soon!”