This time Ian Coldwell brought Aurora Coldwell back to the country to discuss her marriage to George Kingston, though it can hardly be called a discussion. Once the Civic Bureau opens on the eighth, they’ll get the certificate and transfer the shares, and that would be the end of it.

"Why are you here?" Ian Coldwell’s face tightened slightly, knowing his daughter wouldn’t speak, and he looked at Griffith Squire standing behind her.

Griffith Squire narrowed his sharp eyes, the kind that have long navigated the battleground of life and death. In almost three seconds, he had seen through the middle-aged man in front of him by seventy percent. He stepped forward, curled his lips into a smile and said, "Mr. Coldwell, I am Aurora’s fiancé, Elvis Canaan. I’ve returned this time intending to marry Aurora with a ten billion dowry."

The moment the man finished speaking, everyone in the room was taken aback, including Aurora herself.

She looked at Griffith in disbelief. Even though she knew what he was saying and doing was to rescue her from a pit of fire, and he wasn’t genuinely offering a ten billion dowry to marry her, her heart couldn’t help but flutter.

In the difficult and lonely years, she had secretly dreamed that her voice would heal, that a handsome gentleman would appear in her life and offer a fortune to marry her, saving her from the Coldwell Family’s pit of fire while reclaiming what was taken from her and restore her once passionate and cheerful self.

But upon waking, it was still a silent and indifferent world; her heart had long become cold and hard as stone. She wouldn’t allow herself to be weak.

As soon as Ian Coldwell heard about a ten billion marriage offer for Aurora, his first reaction was that this man must be out of his mind. His second thought was that a ten billion asset matched up to 30% of the Coldwell Clan shares, so who exactly was this man?

"Perhaps you jest, sir. Does Ah-ting deserve a ten billion dowry?" Ian’s heart wavered a little, and his tone became somewhat polite.

"In my eyes, she’s priceless," Griffith smiled and said, "To be honest, I am the adopted son of the Italian mafia’s Elvis Family. A few years ago, during a family conflict, Aurora saved me. My life is worth more than ten billion. This time, upon learning of my intention to marry, they specially sent elders from the family to visit, planning to formally come on the first. Then, not only will there be a ten billion dowry, but we’ll also help Mr. Coldwell open the Italian market to show my sincerity."

Griffith’s words were flawless. In truth, he wasn’t lying. Half a month ago, he visited the Elvis Family, learned some past information about himself, and exchanged this for cooperation. The godfather of the Elvis Family had always wanted to adopt him as a godson and open up the European, if not the world’s, black market arms trade together.

Even if Ian Coldwell were to investigate, there would be no flaws, not to mention Brocade City, a major city in the Southwest Region, even if the Coldwell Family was a local prestigious family, they couldn’t extend their reach to Italy, like a mayfly shaking a tree.

Ian Coldwell, seeing his extraordinary demeanor, standing there diminishing himself without conscious reservation, had no doubt of his words. A person’s background, status, and experiences cannot be changed and manifest in their behavior and mannerisms over the years.

"Mr. Elvis, this is too sudden; I need to think it over carefully before I can give you an answer." Ian Coldwell had gone from initially stern-faced to smiling, realizing that if what Griffith said was true, then wouldn’t his useless daughter bring enormous benefits? However, Ian, being cautious by nature, although he was keen on agreeing immediately, held back to verify things first.

Aurora stood aside, listening to Griffith speak eloquently, noticing that such a significant matter as marriage was discussed without her father even asking for her opinion. Her heart naturally grew colder.

"That’s fair. I hope Mr. Coldwell will consider my proposal seriously. By the way, here’s a gift." Griffith said, taking a meticulously wrapped painting from Butler Zhao’s hand, smiling gently, "I heard Mr. Coldwell likes to collect paintings. This is one of the 50 overseas pieces of ’Daozi’s Ink Masterpieces,’ an authentic work by the painting sage Wu Daozi, a small gift for our meeting. I hope Mr. Coldwell will accept it with a smile."

Ian Coldwell nearly doubted his ears—an authentic work by Wu Daozi was priceless.

Aurora was even more shocked. Being an art student, she knew there weren’t many of the painting sage’s works initially passed down, each being a national treasure. How could Griffith possess an authentic piece? It must be a replica. Though her father couldn’t identify it, he would undoubtedly take it to an expert for authentication, wouldn’t that be exposed?

"Is this really an authentic Wu Daozi?" Ian Coldwell, taking the painting, was so excited he stuttered.

"Mr. Coldwell can have an expert authenticate it." Griffith raised an eyebrow and continued, "Oh, last night when Aurora and I returned, I noticed that Aurora didn’t even have a room in the Coldwell estate. Isn’t the estate what her mother left her?"

Ian Coldwell’s gaze flickered. In truth, the Coldwell Family had significant assets, and he usually didn’t live in the estate, not knowing why Zoe and his younger daughter preferred the estate, just a semi-new place originally left for his eldest daughter, why not make goodwill?

Thinking this over, Ian Coldwell smiled and said, "Indeed, that estate was left to her by her mother. I’ll make a call right away, and henceforth only Aurora may reside there."

Fearing his sincerity wasn’t enough, Ian Coldwell quickly called back to the Coldwell estate, instructing the servants to pack up Zoe Kingston and Brooke Coldwell’s belongings and move them to the villa under their names.

This call sent the Coldwell estate into chaos, the servants felt a changing tide. The eldest Miss, who had little presence, returned and reclaimed the estate, sending the madam and second Miss packing. It seemed inconceivable.

At this moment, Aurora’s eyes were moist, her fingers clenched tight, struggling to control her emotions, the estate occupied by her stepmother and sister for years, she had long lost hope, now Griffith had helped her reclaim it the following day after returning. He really did it.

Standing by, Butler Zhao didn’t enter the room, wiping away tears at the doorway, retrieving the estate at last, Griffith became his benefactor henceforth.

"Mr. Coldwell is truly a caring father. Aurora deeply values the estate her mother left her; she nearly cried from excitement." Griffith, smiling, gently ruffled her hair, feeling the silky touch, his gaze deepening.

Ian Coldwell felt some embarrassment at being called a caring father. Due to Griffith’s presence, he found Aurora pleasing to the eye and unexpectedly smiled at her: "I’ll have the property deed sent to you later. What your mother left for you, no one would dare touch."

Aurora nodded, her eyes slightly red, unconsciously grasping Griffith’s wrist, with the man holding her small hand in return, not letting go, his smile playful, carrying a hint of lazy ease.