CHAPTER 6: CHAPTER 6: VICTORIA, I WAS WRONG—CAN I TAKE YOU HOME?

She looked at him, meeting his cool yet lazy expression. Her red lips licked her somewhat dry lips, and she anxiously spoke, "I want to collaborate with you once more."

This request was spoken with little confidence.

Back then, after that drama became a hit, many directors came with scripts, hoping she and Rhys Hawthorne would collaborate again.

Victoria Monroe rejected it on the spot, and Rhys took a deep look at her.

Then raised his glass and left a sentence, "I wish you happiness."

Meeting again, making such a request, what would the other party think?

Due to nervousness, her back was getting warm, and sweat soaked her shirt.

He spoke coldly, "I want to know, you planning a comeback, won’t your husband mind?"

Mentioning the word husband, even though Rhys Hawthorne didn’t mean to insult her, she still felt her face aching.

Her slender, fair fingers tightened inch by inch as if she was about to crush the glass.

She lowered her head, and he couldn’t see the emotions in her eyes.

All he could see was her eyelashes gently trembling like fragile butterfly wings.

The woman who was once proud and unrestrained, now seemed as fragile as a piece of battered tempered glass, with hundreds of cracks on the surface, trying to maintain its original shape.

As long as someone dealt a heavy blow, that glass would instantly shatter into countless pieces.

She was silent for a moment before raising her head and smiling slightly, "My marriage is complicated, I want to regain my career."

"With your past credentials, you’ll have many opportunities for a comeback, why come to me?"

Appearing in front of him with such a stance, as if she has suffered incredible grievances.

Wasn’t that man deeply in love with her?

When she withdrew from the circle, she was full of happiness, yet now her marriage can only be summarized as "complicated."

"Well, there’s a problem on that side, I can’t find a way out in the Kenton Circle; the drama we collaborated on back then was a hit, and even today it has a lot of attention. I think if we collaborate, perhaps my career can have some progress."

He laughed softly, "So Ms. Monroe wants to use me as a tool, stepping on me to return to the pinnacle?"

He spoke bluntly, as if slapping her hard across the face.

Victoria Monroe appeared somewhat embarrassed, "I’m sorry, I know it seems..."

Without warning, the man stood up, his hands supporting the table, his tall body leaning over.

The subtlest scent of sandalwood from his body intruded into her nostrils, leaving her senses and perceptions filled solely with his presence.

Victoria Monroe was taken aback, she raised her neck to meet his gaze.

"Victoria Monroe."

He called her name word by word, and Victoria Monroe looked at him puzzled.

In the past, she only felt his indifference on set, except at the moment they acted together, where he unleashed an aura as if it were a roaring wave, possessing a force powerful enough to destroy life, making her somewhat uneasy.

"What’s the matter?"

"I don’t need your apology, what I want is..."

The waiter gently knocked on the door, bringing in an array of dishes.

Victoria Monroe looked at Rhys Hawthorne again, and he had already returned to his seat, with his slender fingers idly fiddling with black prayer beads.

His silhouette under dark lighting seemed cold and detached; the unbuttoned collar revealed a lean collarbone and a sharp Adam’s apple.

Clearly a high mountain flower of abstinence, yet at this moment Victoria Monroe felt he was like a demon fallen into darkness, exuding unknown danger.

Was this journey to Portoros truly the right decision?

Now that she thought about it, she realized she didn’t understand Rhys Hawthorne at all.

Rhys was two years younger than her, when they first met, he wore a black coat, giving the impression of being unreachable.

His acting skills weren’t top-notch, but he was earnest about scripts, delving into detailed studies of every look and gesture.

Under her guidance and the director’s polishing, that work could ultimately exhibit perfect results.

Now seeing him again, the youth had matured, especially those eyes, deep and unfathomable.

Seeing her lowered eyes in contemplation, the man with clearly defined fingers tapped on the table.

"Eat."

"Okay."

Victoria Monroe did not bring it up again for the time being, the dinner was very quiet, his words were few as usual, and the only sounds in the quiet room were the occasional clinks of porcelain.

When leaving the restaurant, night had already unfolded outside.

He had not yet given a reply, and Victoria Monroe couldn’t guess his thoughts.

She hugged her coat and casually followed by his side.

Rhys Hawthorne: "Have you been to Portoros before?"

Victoria Monroe shook her head, "No."

"Portoros’s night view is beautiful."

Looking at the distant thousands of lights and dazzling illumination, how long had she not appreciated such beauty?

Her days were accompanied by medication; she stayed in that cage-like marital home, waiting through countless sunrises and sunsets for someone to return home.

Victoria Monroe raised her hand, pointing to the tallest landmark building, "I heard it’s over a hundred meters high; the nightscape should be the most stunning from there, right?"

"Do you want to see it?"

"I want to look at the landscape from the peak."

The scenery she once abandoned.

"Tomorrow then, it’s getting late, I’ll take you to rest."

The black car shuttled through the streets of light and shadow, stopping at a seven-star hotel.

Victoria Monroe spoke, "Rhys Hawthorne, my proposal..."

Hidden in the darkness, the man’s voice was faint, "I’ll consider it."

"Alright, see you tomorrow."

As she entered the lobby, she found Assistant Woods already waiting by the door, handing her a room card.

Victoria Monroe felt somewhat embarrassed, taking advantage of a meal and having the room arranged as well.

When taking her upstairs, Victoria Monroe subtly tried to inquire about Rhys Hawthorne, "Assistant Woods, has Rhys been acting in recent years?"

Assistant Woods answered vaguely, "Not very often."

So, he’s still acting?

Back in the spacious suite, she nestled on the bed and searched for Rhys Hawthorne.

This man seemed to have erased all traces of himself; aside from that one drama still online, there’s no information about him.

Today, he didn’t look much like an artist but more like a businessman.

His identity, like a mystery.

Her phone vibrated, and she tapped to view it.

Rhys Hawthorne: [I have some matters to take care of tomorrow, I’ll come to pick you up later to meet someone.]

Victoria Monroe: [Okay, thank you.]

Rhys Hawthorne: [Rest early, goodnight.]

Victoria Monroe casually sent him an emoji of a rabbit hugging the moon to sleep.

Kenton.

After socializing, Julian Fordham staggered home, and in the past, Victoria Monroe would always be the first to approach and support him.

Today it was Mrs. Xu who came over, "Mr. Fordham, why did you drink so much?"

Julian Fordham sat limply on the sofa, loosened his tie, and instinctively called out, "Wife."

"Madam left home last night."

Slightly intoxicated but somewhat clear-headed, Julian Fordham looked around, everything was as it was, and October, who disliked his smell of alcohol, tilted its head from the cat climbing frame watching him.

The warm marital home now felt cold to him.

Right, he had angered Victoria to the point of leaving.

Just about to sleep, Victoria Monroe was startled awake by her phone, where a drunken man’s voice flowed in: "Victoria, I was wrong, I really was wrong, let’s not fight anymore, can I come pick you up and bring you home?"

Her drowsiness vanished instantly, she sat up and gazed outside through the floor-to-ceiling window at the unfamiliar scenery, which now gave her a desolate feeling as if she were in a foreign land.

She didn’t answer, hearing the voice of Mrs. Xu on the other side, "Sir, please have some sobering soup first."

"I don’t want it, I want to find Victoria..."

Victoria Monroe hung up the call, tears already streaming.

She hugged her knees tightly, fingers sinking deep into her sleepwear.

Julian Fordham, we’ve long been unable to return to the past.

The next day.

Julian Fordham woke up from his hangover with a splitting headache, and seeing the empty space beside him, he was momentarily dazed.

Victoria Monroe had been gone for two days now.

Feeling weak all over, he got up, missing the sounds of her scolding his drinking, the delicate hands massaging his head, and the ready-cooked porridge.

The room was filled with traces she left behind, except she wasn’t there.

Julian Fordham bit down on his cigarette, went to the balcony, and called Assistant Prescott, "Is she still at the hotel?"

"Ma’am has already checked out, and I just found out she bought a ticket to Portoros yesterday. President Fordham, is Ma’am planning to leave you?"

Julian inhaled and spoke coldly, "With her grandmother here, she’ll never leave Kenton."

"Does she intend to seek opportunities in Portoros?"

"She doesn’t know anyone there, just an elderly director who’s gravely ill. No one can help her; maybe she just wants to take a break."

This, he had long anticipated, even checking, finding out that the director in Portoros was in the late stages of cancer, with only a few days left.

Very soon, Victoria Monroe would realize that the world is vast, and the only place for her to rest is by his side.

He couldn’t push too hard, or she would grow more resentful of him.

Julian Fordham extinguished the cigarette, personally picked a bouquet of roses Victoria had planted, and placed them in a vase.

October jumped to the side of the vase, sniffing the flowers.

He pressed the shutter and posted the photo on his social media.

[October misses mom, and so do I.]

The first person to like the post was Rachel Hayes.

Julian then noticed Rachel Hayes’s profile picture, which was identically like Victoria Monroe’s past one.

His brow furrowed slightly, truly loathsome.

She must not think that carrying his child makes her someone who could stand on a pedestal?

Julian Fordham switched his profile picture to October deeply sniffing the roses, wanting to tell Victoria Monroe that he was always waiting for her to come home.

The next moment, he blocked and deleted Rachel Hayes from his contacts.

Rachel Hayes was still feeling smug, thinking she had successfully pushed Victoria Monroe away, getting closer to officially taking her place.

Looking at Julian Fordham’s newly changed profile picture of a cat sniffing a rose.

Her profile picture was a rose, as if the one Julian Fordham was kissing was her.

Thinking of that abstinent and indifferent man, if he could once embrace her willingly, kiss her once, she would die without regret.

Taking advantage of their quarrel, this was her best chance to strike.

She mustered the courage to try and send a message to Julian Fordham.

A red exclamation mark appeared on the screen.

He had blocked her?

Rachel Hayes felt a rush of panic inside.

A call from Assistant Prescott came in, and she hastily answered, deliberately using a soft voice, "Brother Qin, what’s up?"

Assistant Prescott’s meticulous voice was clear, "President Fordham asked me to inform you, as long as you successfully give birth, you’ll have your benefits. But if you harbor any other thoughts, don’t blame us if it all comes to nothing."

"Brother Qin, President Fordham misunderstood, I..."

Assistant Prescott didn’t give her a chance to argue, lowering his voice in a threatening tone, "Shut your dog mouth, Rachel Hayes, don’t take us for fools, Madam is everything to President Fordham, and if you upset her again, prepare for a miserable time after giving birth."

"A friendly reminder, never underestimate President Fordham’s love for Madam, so change your damn profile picture immediately!"