CHAPTER 150: CHAPTER 150: DON’T GO WITH HIM, I’LL LOSE MY MIND

In The Grandflora Gardens, there’s only one household per floor, and right at the elevator entrance is the foyer.

At this moment, standing at the elevator entrance, Blake Sinclair just put away his phone.

The elevator chimed, and as he looked up, he saw Zion Pence holding Holly Crowe’s wrist, while she looked forlorn.

The typhoon was about to make landfall.

Earlier at noon, he specifically instructed Cole Tanner to prepare lunch and send it to the Lunar Lotus Studio, but it was returned untouched, with a report that the studio was closed today.

It’s not surprising for the Lunar Lotus Studio to close during typhoon weather.

But Holly didn’t tell him about it.

Since returning from the art exhibition yesterday, she hadn’t looked well, and seemed distracted. He thought she might have caught a cold from the air conditioning or was just tired.

But by dinner, her condition hadn’t improved; in fact, she’d barely eaten and excused herself back to the room.

At night, she didn’t curl up in his arms as usual, but rather wrapped herself in the blanket, turning away from him.

When he asked, she vaguely said she was too tired.

And today, she even hid the fact that the studio was closed.

All these oddities tying together left Blake Sinclair unable to focus on work, so he drove back to The Grandflora Gardens.

She was nowhere to be seen at home.

He was about to send someone to look for her, but fortunately, Cole Tanner reported in time that she’d gone to his office to find him.

He estimated she’d arrive soon, so he went downstairs to meet her, but he didn’t expect to witness this scene at the elevator entrance.

In the elevator.

Almost as soon as Zion Pence touched her, Holly withdrew her hand.

Unexpectedly, just as the elevator doors opened, this hasty action caught Blake Sinclair’s eyes, which inexplicably gave the impression of trying to cover up a guilty conscience.

She didn’t understand why Blake Sinclair was at the elevator entrance.

Seeing the shock mixed with incredulous pain in his gaze, her heart tightened, instinctively wanting to explain.

But when the words reached her lips, and she thought about his betrayals, the explanation stuck in her throat.

Why should she?

He had hidden his past with Shannon Yarrow over and over, playing her for a fool as a mere substitute, so why should she humbly explain to him?

What right did he have?

The grievance in her heart surged all at once.

Holly turned her head to avoid his gaze and walked straight out of the elevator, brushing past him without a glance.

"Holly."

Zion Pence called out to her retreating figure, unwilling to let go, "I’ll wait for you."

After speaking, he deliberately looked at Blake Sinclair, wearing a provoking, fake smile.

The elevator doors slowly closed and began to descend.

Zion Pence’s previously upright posture instantly slumped, as if all the strength had been drained from him, his shirt drenched in cold sweat, clinging to his back.

The fierce look Blake Sinclair had thrown at him earlier seemed almost capable of devouring him alive.

Steadying his heartbeat, he took out his phone and made a call.

The beeping sound of the password entry pulled Blake Sinclair back to reality.

Holly ignored Zion Pence’s annoying call, walking directly to the door to enter the password.

Blake Sinclair followed closely behind, entering the house.

The air pressure inside was chillingly low.

Out of habit, he tried to reach for her bag, but she dodged.

Then he tried to get her slippers, but she was a step ahead.

All signs showed she was resisting him.

Why?

Because of Zion Pence?

Had that man shaken her resolve again?

Just the thought of it made his heart constrict with suffocating tension.

At that moment, Holly finished changing her shoes and suddenly turned around, lifting her head to look at him.

Her eyes no longer held their usual dependence and warmth, only scrutiny and coldness remained.

Blake Sinclair’s heart skipped a beat, and to avoid it, he quickly spoke before she could, "I’ll get you a glass of water."

Holly blocked his way, looking directly at him, "Just now..."

"Don’t say it," Blake Sinclair cut her off, pulling her fiercely into his embrace, "Don’t say it, Holly, don’t mention his name."

Holly’s rebellious nature flared; the more he didn’t want to hear it, the more she wanted to say it.

She struggled, with a hint of stubbornness, "Zion Pence came to see me today because..."

"Don’t say it, don’t call him." Blake Sinclair tightened his arms around her waist, pleading, "Holly, don’t go with him, I’ll go crazy."

Crazy?

At this very moment, hearing these words, Holly found it ironically hilarious.

She couldn’t help but smile, tears she’d tried hard to hold back welled up in her eyes again.

Was it that without her he’d go crazy?

Or without her, the substitute for Shannon Yarrow, would he go crazy?

Holly pushed him away strongly, placing her hands on his chest to distance herself.

She looked at him, the grievance, bitterness, and anger in her heart pouring out, "Blake Sinclair, why did you marry me?"

"Or rather, why did you choose me?" she rephrased the question.

The dim yellow light in the foyer drew an invisible boundary between them.

Holly unblinkingly watched him.

Blake Sinclair, this is your last chance I’m giving you.

As long as you say it, and explain clearly.

Whether it’s about being a substitute or the past, as long as you’re honest.

Their gazes met in the air.

Blake Sinclair didn’t avoid it, earnestly answering, "Because I love you."

No explanation, no details, just those five words.

Holly pulled at the corners of her mouth, her smile looking worse than crying, "Do you really love me? Look into my eyes and tell me, do you love Holly Crowe standing right in front of you now? Or is it someone else’s shadow you’re seeing through me?"

"Only you." His answer remained firm, "From the beginning to end, it’s only you."

Reaching out, he tried to wipe the tears from the corners of her eyes, but Holly evaded.

Tired, physically and mentally drained.

All her strength vanished at that moment; she didn’t want to discern the truth of his words anymore, not even the energy to argue.

Holly turned to leave.

Without thinking, Blake Sinclair immediately stepped forward to hold her hand.

Seeing her increasingly pale face, his heart ached with panic.

"Where are you going?" His voice trembled slightly.

Holly halted her steps, but didn’t turn back.

Her silhouette was thin and fragile, and Blake Sinclair dared not let go, afraid of the out-of-control feeling of not being able to hold onto her.

Finally, Holly slowly turned around, her face calm.

"I want to rest."

"I’ll join you."

Holly looked up at him, her gaze distant, "I want to rest alone, is that okay?"

Is that okay?

Those three words stabbed like icy blades into Blake Sinclair’s heart.

She had never spoken to him in such a polite tone before.

Was she drawing a line with him, or pushing him out of her world?

Blake Sinclair’s hand trembled slightly, finally falling powerless.

All his explanations were blocked by her words, stuck in his throat, causing unbearable pain.

He wanted desperately to hold her, to plead her not to treat him like this...

But in the end, he did nothing.

He just squeezed out a dry "fine" from his parched throat.

Blake Sinclair watched Holly turn once again to head towards the bedroom.

The door opened and closed, leaving him alone in the vast house.

Leaning against the wall, Blake Sinclair took a deep breath, trying to calm the dull ache in his chest.

He closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, only darkness remained.

He took out his phone, quickly dialing a number, "Find out immediately what happened at the art exhibition yesterday. I need to know every detail."

He didn’t know what was said on the other end.

He paused a moment, adding, "And also, find out precisely where my wife went this afternoon, and who she saw."

Hanging up, Blake Sinclair still stood in place, his gaze heavy on the closed bedroom door.

He had to know what had changed her overnight!