CHAPTER 4 - The Pursuit Begins.

The Return of Nora

"Grandpa!"

The moment Nora stepped into the grand Trump Mansion, her heels clicked against the marble floors, but she paid no mind to anything—or anyone—else in the room. Her eyes locked onto the one person she had been longing to see, and without hesitation, she sprinted forward, arms wide open.

She crashed straight into Grandpa Trump's embrace, nearly knocking the elderly man back a step.

The warmth of his familiar arms wrapped around her, and for a moment, she felt like a little girl again—safe, cherished, home.

The old man chuckled, his deep, rumbling laughter filling the room. "Baby Nora, how have you been?"

His weathered hands patted her back gently, his fondness evident in every gesture. He had always treated her like his own granddaughter. After all, she had no one else in the world.

She had lost everything—her parents, her grandparents—all in a tragic car accident. It had left her completely alone, drowning in a silence too heavy for a child to bear.

Until he found her.

Twelve years ago, Grandpa Trump had walked into that orphanage, taken one look at the little girl sitting alone in the corner, and made a decision that changed her life forever.

He had taken her in.

She wasn't just a guest in this house—she was family.

"I'm fine, Grandpa. I missed you!" Nora pouted, her big, round eyes shimmering with childlike affection.

Grandpa Trump clicked his tongue, tapping her nose playfully. "Tsk, don't lie. You didn't miss me—you missed that silly brat over there."

Nora's cheeks burned instantly.

Her gaze flickered—hesitant, almost shy—to the man she had deliberately ignored upon entering.

Dave.

She had wanted to see if he would acknowledge her first. If he would even look at her.

But now, as her eyes landed on him, a strange warmth crept up her spine.

God.

She had always known Dave was handsome—he had been effortlessly stunning since they were children.

But now?

Now, he was something else entirely.

His presence was as sharp as a blade, commanding without even trying. His cold, piercing gaze, deep brown and unreadable, sent a shiver down her back. His chiseled jawline, perfectly sculpted nose, and firm, full lips looked as if they had been handcrafted by the gods themselves.

Even the way he stood—hands tucked into his pockets, body draped in a sleek black suit—radiated effortless power.

He wasn't just an outstanding bachelor.

He was the bachelor.

No—scratch that.

Top one most handsome man in the world.

Nora swallowed, forcing herself to blink and snap out of it.

"He grew up well," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

Grandpa Trump smirked knowingly. "Of course, I raised him."

Dave let out a soft snort. A proud old man indeed.

Then, without thinking, the words just… slipped out.

"Grandpa, you were talking about marriage," she blurted. "Can I marry your grandson?"

The room fell into stunned silence.

Dove, standing off to the side, rolled her eyes so hard they might've fallen out. "Shameless."

But Grandpa Trump? He threw his head back and laughed.

A loud, hearty, unrestrained laugh.

"Yes!" he declared, wiping a tear of amusement from his eye. "You are my first candidate!"

Nora beamed, her cheeks burning a deep pink. "Thank you, Grandpa! I love you!"

Dove scowled, her arms crossing over her chest. "He's not your grandfather."

The warmth in Nora's face instantly turned to fire.

She turned sharply, her expression hardening. "He is my grandfather."

Dove's narrowed eyes flashed with challenge. "Foster grandfather."

"He's still my grandfather!" Nora shot back, her voice unwavering.

The air between them crackled with tension.

Everyone in the country—and even internationally—knew her. Nora.

Not as an actress. Not as a singer. Not as an influencer.

No—she was famous for an entirely different reason.

"Shameless Nora."

Her name was well-known, whispered on the lips of both admirers and critics.

Her face? Less so.

She was sweet and charming when she wanted to be.

But when provoked?

She had a temper that could set the world on fire.

"You two, stop bickering." Grandpa Trump sighed, rubbing his temples. "Every time you meet, it's the same thing. I'm tired of it."

Both girls turned away from each other with a dramatic huff. "Hmph!"

Just then, Grandpa Trump's sharp eyes flickered toward the stairs—where a certain someone was making a quiet escape.

"Wait—I'm not done talking to you!"

Dave was already halfway up the grand staircase, his long, confident strides making it clear that he had zero intention of sticking around for more nonsense.

He had no interest in his grandfather's meddling.

No interest in his sister's antics.

And certainly no interest in her.

Grandpa Trump stomped his foot like a furious child. "That brat! Always running away!" He let out an exasperated huff and stormed off in the opposite direction.

Dove and Nora exchanged one last glare before Dove scoffed and flounced away.

The moment she was gone, a maid emerged from the kitchen, carefully balancing a tray filled with an assortment of dishes.

Nora's ears perked up.

"Who is that for?" she asked, eyeing the meal curiously.

The maid bowed slightly. "For the eldest young master."

A slow, mischievous smirk spread across Nora's lips.

Her fingers curled around the tray before the maid could protest.

"I'll take it to him myself."

The maid barely had time to react before Nora turned on her heel and marched toward the staircase, her heart pounding with excitement.

Dave might have tried to escape.

But there was no escaping her.