New beginning: Billionaire love story

Chapter 465 Thanksgiving with Ulterior Motives

The Thanksgiving dinner with the Robertsons was nothing short of a theatrical performance, and Claire knew her part well. She had entered their grand dining room, armed with her wits and a steely resolve, ready for whatever subtle jabs and sly comments the evening had in store.

The smell of roasted turkey and freshly baked bread filled the air, but to Claire, the room reeked of ulterior motives.

The star of the moment, of course, was her pudding-a culinary disaster she had deliberately over-salted. She had no intention of impressing the Robertsons with her cooking; this was just her little act of rebellion for having to endure their prying questions and veiled manipulations.

When Robert Robertson took his first bite, his face twisted slightly. He masked it quickly, placing the pudding aside. Gretta, ever the perfectionist, merely sniffed it suspiciously and moved on to stirring her tea, but her ears were clearly tuned in to the conversation.

"So, Claire," Robert began, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin and fixing her with a look that was far too casual to be genuine. "What are you up to these days? Anything exciting?"

Claire leaned back in her chair, tearing a piece of bread deliberately slowly. She chewed with exaggerated languor, her raised brows the only acknowledgment she gave to Robert's question.

Robert cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the silence but determined to wait her out. Gretta's spoon clinked rhythmically against the edge of her teacup as she stirred, her eyes seemingly fixed on the liquid but her posture screaming curiosity.

Claire finally swallowed her bread and smiled-a slow, deliberate expression meant to irritate. "Not feeling myself lately," she said lazily, her voice carrying just a hint of sarcasm. "I'm tired, Robert. Exhausted, actually. It's been... a lot."

Robert's lips tightened into a thin line, clearly unimpressed with her evasive answer. "Tired, you say? That's unlike you, Claire," he said, his voice dripping with false concern. "You've always been so resilient. Maybe you've taken on too much? If you need help with Metacortex..." He let the sentence hang, offering her a smile that Claire recognized as more predatory than friendly. "After all, we were once family." Claire's fake smile widened, though her eyes remained cold. Family? She thought bitterly. If you cared about family, Robert, you wouldn't have stolen from me. You wouldn't have stolen my idea of Cortex Software from Venus AMD.

that Robert managed to stole it then sold her idea to Venus AMD, resulting in him getting a position

tea, maintaining her composure. "I'm handling it very well, thank you," she said with practiced calm. "No need for anyone else to

faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered, leaning back in his chair. "Well, that's good

opportunity slip away, decided to change tactics. She set her teacup down and looked at Claire with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "What about socially, Claire? Are you still mingling with the rich and powerful? Using

I still use it. Besides, it is a privilege. However, hanging out with them, I could have say sometimes,

slightly tighter. "The LHS must be such an exclusive circle," she said, her tone tinged with envy. "It's such

she said sweetly, letting

her voice taking on a hopeful, almost

I mean, I know it's exclusive, but surely they're open to,

I think the LHS is

Gretta's face was priceless. She managed to suppress whatever choice words she wanted to hurl at Claire, but her expression twisted briefly into something that was almost comical. Claire couldn't resist smirking

to safer waters. "Claire, I must say, it's impressive how you've managed Metacortex these past few months since

masked it well. Eligos's recent breach of Metacortex's system was still fresh in her mind, a glaring vulnerability that she hadn't yet resolved. But there was no way she was going to

of the most advanced protocols in the industry. Honestly, Metacortex is

poker face was impeccable. "Good, good. That's what I like to hear," he said, though his tone was laden

words and glances. Claire answered questions with calculated precision, revealing nothing of real importance. Robert and Gretta probed and prodded, but Claire deflected their inquiries with the