Calm Before the Storm
After Cynthia left, the smile on Old Mrs. Ford's face faded slightly. "Now that she's gone, say whatever you want."
In response, Tristan smiled and looked at Old Mrs. Ford with an inscrutable depth in his eyes. "Indeed, nothing can escape your discerning eyes, Madam."
"Oh, stop it." Old Mrs. Ford didn't buy into Tristan's flattery, giving a light snort. "A man with a wife suddenly becomes as sweet-tongued as if he's smeared with honey."
Tristan, somewhat embarrassed, touched his nose and pondered for a moment before saying, "She will be your future daughter-in-law and the next mistress of the Ford family."
His tone was unhurried, even carrying a casual and lazy tone, but there was an unmistakable determination in his words that sent shivers down one's spine.
Old Mrs. Ford, upon hearing this, didn't show much emotion on her face and calmly said, "Isn't that already a settled matter?"
The implication was that what Tristan said was just stating the obvious.