CHAPTER 111: CHAPTER 111: MY WIFE WOULD MISUNDERSTAND

The dim glow of the sensor lights in the corridor fell on Shannon Yarrow’s fingers clutching the insulated container.

When she heard footsteps coming from inside the door, her heartbeat involuntarily quickened.

As the door swung open, she lifted a smile she had practiced countless times in the mirror to mimic Holly Crowe, but when she saw Blake Sinclair’s cold, hard expression, the curve of her lips froze.

"Mr. Sinclair."

Shannon had just called out to him when Blake Sinclair’s hand was already on the doorknob, clearly intending to close the door.

Without hesitation, she reached out to block it, the doorframe collided with her wrist bone, leaving red marks instantly.

"Mr. Sinclair..."

As if she didn’t feel the pain, she stubbornly clung to the doorframe, her voice trembling, "I... I brought you some very effective medicine for your injury, and... this is soup I simmered for a long time; it’s good for healing wounds, you..."

"There’s no need; my wife would misunderstand," Blake Sinclair’s voice was devoid of any warmth.

His gaze swept over her clothes, and his brow furrowed.

Hearing his unwavering refusal, Shannon’s heart turned cold. She had deliberately worn clothes similar to Holly Crowe’s today, but even so, she couldn’t catch his eye.

Ever since he returned to the country, she had never been this close to him as she was today.

How many years had it been?

He was always so distant and indifferent. She thought he was always like that, but why was he so gentle, so cautious, even with a touch of humble fear when it came to Holly?

Such an expression was something Shannon couldn’t even imagine drawing on the face of the man before her.

She was unwilling!

She was jealous!

She hated her!

"Mr. Sinclair," Shannon bit her lip, her voice laced with a hint of plaintiveness, "have you forgotten? Those days we spent together in Brelond... I was by your side for so long, and does it really not compare to her few short months?"

Blake Sinclair finally looked her in the eye, his gaze sharp, "So, have you decided to come and redeem that promise?"

He never gave Shannon any false impressions. The help he provided back then had long been repaid with resources and money, but before leaving, he promised her one request, as long as it didn’t cross the line.

Shannon’s heart contracted slightly.

She looked at him, her gaze reckless with desperation, "You always knew what I wanted, didn’t you? I just want you to remember, we once..."

Blake Sinclair’s eyes immediately turned dangerous, and he lowered his voice, "I warned you, some things should rot in your stomach."

"But those are our memories!"

Shannon’s emotions suddenly flared up, her voice breaking into sobs.

She knew Blake Sinclair hated those past memories, but she insisted on uncovering that shameful secret.

She lifted her face, tears shimmering, "I met you when I was eighteen! During those years in Brelond, I was the one who was with you. How long has Holly Crowe been around? Does she know your past? She knows nothing! Clearly... clearly, I am the one who has been with you the longest!"

"After you returned to the country, I survived by holding onto those memories! They aren’t some decaying past to me; they’re what kept me going!"

Blake Sinclair looked at her, his gaze devoid of any emotion, as if he was looking at an unreasonable madwoman.

His cold, unfeeling expression was both unfamiliar and all too familiar to Shannon.

This indifference hadn’t changed a bit with time, so why could he show such tenderness and affection in front of Holly Crowe?

That’s something she had never seen after so many years of watching over him.

Yet despite all this, she still loved him with a sick, unyielding obsession.

"Do you really like her that much?" Shannon’s voice was hoarse.

Seeing his undisguised disgust and confusion in his eyes, her rationality was completely swallowed by jealousy and bitterness. Like driven by some impulse, she took a step forward to try and hug him.

Blake Sinclair immediately stepped back, having completely lost his patience, intending to forcibly close the door.

"Mr. Sinclair!"

Shannon disregarded everything, dropping the insulated container and medicine in her hands, lunging straight at him.

She tightly clung to his arm, her cheek pressed against his clothes, faintly smelling his scent of cedar, just like in Brelond back then.

"I met you when I was eighteen... Why... why can’t you just look at me? Why don’t you want me?"

Blake Sinclair’s body stiffened for a moment, then he forcefully pulled her away the next second.

Shannon staggered back a few steps.

Blake Sinclair looked at the tears staining his sleeve with disdain, his gaze icy to the core.

"Shannon, you better wake up. The house you live in, the car you drive, even the resources of your company, all the fame and status you have is what I gave you. What I can give, I can also take back at any time."

Looking at her reddened eyes, devoid of any pity, the immense pressure almost suffocated her: "Remember my rules, and remember your place. Don’t think about what you shouldn’t, don’t do what you shouldn’t, and definitely don’t try to disturb her. This is the last warning."

With that, he didn’t give her any more chances, took a step back, and slammed the door shut, completely blocking out everything outside,

The sound of the door slamming shut made Shannon’s whole body tremble, her eardrums ached, and the last glimmer of hope in her heart was utterly shattered.

She looked at the tightly closed door in front of her, her face drained of color, and tears silently fell.

After a long while, she slowly lifted her head, her gaze sweeping over the surveillance camera at the end of the corridor, a glint of desperation in her eyes like a fish ready to go down in flames.

...

The studio lights went out, and Holly Crowe rubbed her sore neck, realizing that taking promotional photos was truly a challenge for those not in the profession.

Grumbling to herself, she sent a message to Blake Sinclair, and as she reached the doorway, she ran right into Shannon Yarrow and her group.

With her assistant supporting her, she walked forward, wearing sunglasses that covered half her face, masking her expression.

She was dressed in a champagne-colored camisole dress, her steps brisk, with a sense of urgency.

But on her right wrist was a large medical adhesive bandage, the edges faintly tinged with red, remarkably conspicuous.

Holly paused at that spot, and before she could shift her gaze, she met Shannon’s eyes.

She nodded slightly, curving her lips into a standard smile. As they passed by each other, Holly inexplicably felt a chill down her neck, a surge of unease.

After Shannon finished shooting the promotional photos, everyone packed up and headed to the restaurant together.

The gathering was at a private restaurant suite with excellent privacy.

The director’s team and program producer, along with a few scriptwriters, sat at one table. Holly initially intended to sit with Tiffany Thorne, but a familiar assistant director pulled her to the main table.

"Holly, you’re the soul of our program; you can’t sit at another table!"

Resigned, she sat down.

Next to her, having removed her sunglasses, Shannon Yarrow sat with her makeup perfectly done.

Shannon turned her head and smiled at her, her eye makeup particularly thick as if to conceal something.

She spoke first, her tone familiar, "Teacher Holly, how was today’s shoot?"

Holly returned the smile with a nod, "It went smoothly."

As she spoke, her gaze fell again on Shannon’s injured hand, "Teacher Shannon, is your hand alright? It looks quite injured."

Shannon immediately withdrew her hand beneath the table, picked up a glass of water, and sipped it, pretending to be casual, "It’s nothing; I just got hit while organizing the easel at the hotel this afternoon, just a bit red and swollen."

"Just be more careful." Holly offered her concern.

"Thanks for your concern."

They exchanged a few pleasantries.

Suddenly, Shannon raised her hand, removing the silk scarf from her neck, revealing a mutton fat jade pendant.

Not the previous one.

Holly’s heart skipped a beat.

Even though Blake Sinclair firmly assured her he had nothing to do with Shannon, Holly’s woman’s intuition made her doubt it was that simple.

The mutton fat jade button around Shannon’s neck, seen just once, felt like a mystery, entangling her thoughts and instilling a sense of unease.

Thinking about what excuse to ask Shannon about the origin of that mutton fat jade button, the suite door was suddenly pushed open.

The director’s hearty voice rang out, "Everyone, look who’s here!"

As Holly turned her head, she was met with Blake Sinclair’s deep eyes.

Why was he here?

Wasn’t he supposed to have agreed this afternoon?