Chapter 587

Chapter 586:

Gaston’s gaze stayed on her, steady and intense. In his eyes, there was only her. The hidden cameras, the watching world — none of it existed to him.

A comment in the live chat captured the collective feeling with startling accuracy: “I came here to watch rich people fight, but I’m being force-fed something unbearably sweet instead. And I damn well love it p>

After breakfast, Gaston didn’t leave for the office. He stayed home.

He settled on the massive sectional sofa with his laptop balanced on his knees, reviewing documents. Jocelyn sat curled up beside him, her head resting against his shoulder, reading a book on architecture. The chat hummed quietly with speculation in the background.

Gaston’s phone buzzed. A video call from his executive assistant. He answered, and the assistant’s face appeared on screen, his expression visibly tense.

“Sir,” the assistant said formally. “Regarding Project Nightingale — we need your final authorization on the tender offer p>

The codename landed in the live chat like a targeted missile. For most viewers, it meant nothing. But for the handful of financial journalists monitoring the stream, it was a ghost story made real — the legendary, aggressive acquisition strategy whispered about in the highest circles of Wall Street. One journalist didn’t hesitate. His fingers flew across his Bloomberg terminal.

“EXCLUSIVE: Gaston Collins, the mysterious heir to the Collins empire, spotted on pregnancy reality show ‘The Collins Heir p>

𝗦a𝘷𝖾 у𝘰𝗎r 𝘧𝗮𝘃о𝘳𝗶te ոо𝘃𝖾𝗹𝘀 on

The alert spread across Wall Street in under three minutes.

In the trading hall of the Collins Group headquarters, the noise dropped to absolute zero. Every trader stopped. They looked up at the giant screens on the wall, which were now displaying the live stream.

They saw their legendary CEO — a man known only as a phantom, a ghost who never appeared in public, a ruthless ice king — gently adjusting a throw pillow behind his pregnant wife’s back.

The shockwave was immense.

The live chat shattered through the one-million-viewer mark. Financial forums crashed under the traffic.

Noticing Gaston was occupied with work, Jocelyn quietly slipped off the sofa and headed to the kitchen to prepare lunch. A sudden, intense craving had taken hold — roast beef.

She pulled a prime cut of Wagyu brisket from the refrigerator, seasoned it heavily, and slid it into the oven. But distracted by the lingering memory of the morning’s charred toast, she misjudged both the temperature and the time.

When she pulled the pan out, the edges of the expensive meat were blackened and crispy. The smell of burnt fat drifted through the air.

She felt a wave of frustration. She carried the plate to the living room, her shoulders slightly slumped.

“I think I ruined it,” Jocelyn said apologetically, setting the plate in front of Gaston. “I’m sorry p>

Gaston ended the video call without looking up from the plate. He picked up his knife and fork, cut a piece of the charred meat, and put it directly into his mouth.

He chewed slowly, his eyes locked on hers. Then a warm, appreciative smile spread across his face.