Chapter 42
The hotel room had a large floor–to–ceiling window, with snow falling outside and the dazzling light casting a glow over the city. The glitter from the glass skyscrapers created a breathtaking pattern against the night.
Franklin, too drunk to stay on his feet, collapsed onto the couch, his body melting into its plush embrace
The tie around his neck felt constricting, and with a couple of pulls, he loosened it, gasping for air. He buried his face in the cushions, his thoughts haunted by Elizabeth’s stubborn face, as if being with him was a torment she couldn’t escape.
But didn’t Elizabeth stick it out for three long years!
Annoyed and buzzed, he felt hands help him up and a cup of coffee pressed to his lips. sips before he pushed it away without looking at the woman next to him.
“Leave and have Jerry drive you home, Franklin said, his voice a clear dismissal.
Rachel, sitting there shyly, besitated, “Mr. Jones fet me help you change before I go!”
“No.” Franklin replied, his head throbbing.
“But you.” Rachel’s voice faded, her expression showing her worry
The coffee’s warmth and steam coated him into taking a few
“I said no,” be repeated, frowning, his irritation growing. “Co and close the door on your way out.”
His curt
curt command jolted Rachel
Franklin, who was usually mild–mannered, was in a temper. It was a sign not to mess with him. She didn’t dare stay, so she quickly stood up and walked past the coffee table, but after a few steps she was called back.
“Rachel do you play the cello?” asked Franklin.
Caught off guard by the random question, Rachel blinked. “The cello!”
Franklin sat on the couch, his collar loosened, bathed in the soft light. His tall, lean figure and handsome features were a package no woman could refuse, especially when they were on his payroll as his lovers. It was a foolproof deal
He shook his head, his knuckles resting on his forehead. Forget it. Just go.
The idea that women like them would know how to play the cello was just ridiculous.
Rachel felt the sting of humiliation, but she bit her tongue, not daring to voice her displeasure. Her innocent face showed her distress as she hesitated, “If you enjoy listening to it. Mr. Jones, I can learn”
“No need.” Franklin refused her offer. His question was just a passing thought “Just leave.”
In Rachel’s eyes, Franklin was the epitome of integrity and chivalry, always gentle and respectful toward women. He was the kind of man every compliment described, never sparing public courtesy.
Yet, in the bedroom, he was somehow lacking. Rachel had been with him for less than a month and had never stayed over
Even when he was drunk, he never invited her to spend the night, making it clear she was nothing more than arrow fodder. It had nothing to do with the emotional attachment, and he didn’t admire her looks.
Franklin’s wife was a recognized beauty, the pure and lovely type that Rachel had glimpsed on his phone. There were pictures of Elizabeth performing in plays, playing the cello, and their wedding photos, all tucked away in a private album.
The first time Rachel went with Franklin to a banquet, he refused drinks on a night when a typhoon hit unexpectedly. He stepped aside, his face anxious as he called his assistant.
*Elizabeth is afraid of typhoons Have Vera stay with her for a bit. I’ll be back soon, he exphined softly, with a patience and tenderness he never showed Rachel.
But Rachel was puzzled. If he cherished his wife so much, why would he be with her? Wasn’t he playing with her feelings
With no one else around, the room fell into a deathly silence. Franklin chugged down several glasses of water, trying to flush the alcohol’s burn from his throat and chest. Unless absolutely necessary, he wouldn’t spend the night away from home.
His lungs were sensitive, bothered by the fluff that seemed to come with hotel rooms
The home was a haven, where Elizabeth kept everything pristine, making his stay a comfortable one.
12:45 PM
Chapter 42
With her gone, the house felt hollow, and the thought of returning to that emptiness was unappealing. In his drunken state, he’d always sought her out, craving the solace of her embrace. She was as tender as water, her warmth a balm that could soothe away his troubles.
Before they married, he’d loved just being close to her, but he was mindful of her youth, holding back from anything more than hand–holding and a few kisses, which felt like a matter of life and death.
He’d been so considerate back then. Resisting his impulse, he would opt for cold showers to keep from overwhelming her. He knew she had a passion for music, so when they prepared their new home at the North Building of Shiny Estate, he made sure to set aside a room for her musical instruments, even though she’d never played a note for him.
When the two families had discussed their marriage, the elders of the Jones family were dead set against Elizabeth pursuing her acting or her spot
in the orchestra.
He remembered after that negotiation ended, she sat in the car, her tears falling like a string of broken pearls and her sobs so intense that they left her throat buming and raw. Franklin, heartbroken at her distress, vowed to stand up for her.
Elizabeth was a celebrated cellist, her orchestra having graced the national stage, with a future full of promise.
To silence her cello was to take away a part of her soul.
But with her humble status in the family, the stigma of being an illegitimate child was one she could never shake. In marriage, she faced a choice of compromise and concession. She wiped away her tears, saying, “It’s fine. I’ll just practice at home. As long as Grandpa and my sister consent to our marriage, that’s what matters”
Franklin witnessed her sacrifice. Kissing away her tears, he kept whispering promises to always be good to her and never let her down. But as time passed, everything changed.
The following day, Franklin pulled up to Shiny Estate at noon
The night before, he’d ended up with Lawson’s jacket by mistake–a flashy piece with decorative epaulets that he had no desire to wear. Franklin would rather face the cold.
After cutting the engine, he ambled up to the North Building’s entrance
The door was slightly open, a sign that Vera was inside, cleaning as usual.
Without a hint of trouble, Franklin tossed his coat by the door and shouted, “Vera, could you vacuum the fluff in the upstairs bedroom? It’s been a bit too much to breathe lately
He’d been waking up coughing in the night, and with Elizabeth gone, he had to be careful.
Vera set down her duster and looked over, surprised. Frank? What brings you back so late?” Her tone hinted at some news.
Franklin, keen to change into something clean, asked, “What’s going on”
As he passed the living room, he saw a black coat folded with precision–Elizabeth’s signature style. He stopped, puzzled. Vera walked over slowly and explained, “You just missed her. Betty stopped by. Without seeing you here, she put it on it and left”
“She was here? Franklin’s brows knitted, his confusion clear.
“Yes, just a short while ago, Vera replied.
The coat was the one he’d mistakenly taken with Lawson yesterday. It was obvious what had happened, but if she hadn’t wanted to come, nobody could have made her.
Franklin’s brows furrowed further. Tll go see her.”
