CHAPTER 56: CHAPTER 56: BLAKE SINCLAIR GOT MARRIED?

Holly just realized her phone had died and automatically shut down.

She quickly took the phone, walked to the inner room, apologizing as she went, "I’m so sorry..."

She had just started to speak when she heard the airport flight announcement on the other end of the line.

Holly was taken aback, "You’re at the airport?"

"Yes."

He said, "I have to leave for an unexpected trip this afternoon and wanted to call you to let you know, but I couldn’t get through."

Holly felt a bit embarrassed; her voice lowered, "I’m sorry, my phone died and shut off automatically...."

She felt a bit empty inside.

"I should be the one saying sorry."

His breathing came through the receiver, very clear, as if he was speaking right beside her ear.

"Not being able to say goodbye to you in person, that’s my fault."

Holly responded, "It’s okay, just stay safe."

After a long silence, there was a gentle sigh from the other end, "Is that all the advice you have for me, Mrs.?"

"Huh?" Holly was startled.

What else?

She bit her lip and thought for a moment, "Then... remember to eat well."

"And?"

"..Remember to rest."

"Anything else?" he continued to press, not letting it go.

Holly’s fingers unconsciously tapped the sofa, but she said nothing.

On the other end, Blake Sinclair let out a soft laugh, his voice suddenly lowering, "Like... would you want me to come back soon?"

Holly’s heart raced wildly, "...Your work is important."

"Okay, then let’s switch questions."

Over the sound of the boarding announcement, his voice came through, a bit hoarse, "Will you miss me when I’m away?"

Holly opened her mouth but no sound came out.

No one spoke.

After a while, his voice came again.

"Time to board."

Holly tightened her grip on the phone, "...Come back soon."

There was a quiet pause on the other end.

"Understood."

"Then I’ll hang up now."

"Wait." He stopped her, "For the days I won’t be here, someone will deliver your meals, remember to eat on time."

"Okay."

"And," he paused for a moment, "I will miss you, Holly."

"...."

Holly held the phone, unable to speak for a long time, until the busy tone came through the receiver, she realized her fingers had turned white from gripping it so hard.

She hung up the phone and turned around, only to make eye contact with Celia Stiles, who was leaning against the doorframe.

She shyly averted her eyes, blushing as she tossed the phone into Celia’s arms and walked out, feeling like her heart was about to burst out of her chest.

This man, he’s so unfair!

When she returned home, sure enough, someone was downstairs with a food delivery, holding a bouquet of fresh pink lychees, still dewy.

"Madam, Mr. Sinclair instructed us to deliver this."

Holly took the flowers, her fingertips brushing the petals, feeling as if something had hit her heart.

She brought the delivery person upstairs, and after entering her home, she took out her phone and found Blake Sinclair to send a message.

[Received the flowers, thank you.]

A few minutes later, he replied:

[As long as you like them.]

Holly paused on the keyboard, and then continued typing.

[When will you be back?]

This time he replied quickly, as if he had been waiting for her to ask this.

[When the next bouquet arrives.]

Holly looked at the screen, unable to suppress a smile.

She gently bowed her head to smell the flowers, and picked a few good-looking ones to put in the vase, replacing the ones that had started to wilt.

Looking at the pink petals covered with dew, Holly inexplicably felt a little anticipation rise in her heart.

She didn’t know if she was looking forward to the next bouquet or to the person himself.

.....

The third floor of The Elysian.

The crystal light’s cold reflection refracted on Zion Pence’s tense profile.

Sitting in the center of the sofa, he tilted his head back and downed another glass of wine.

The alcohol poured into his throat, yet it couldn’t subdue the surging irritability in his heart.

"President Pence, what’s the fun in drinking alone? Let me accompany you...."

"Scram!"

Zion didn’t lift his eyes, gripping the wine glass so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

These past few days, nothing had gone right. Since that celebration party, several good partnerships that had been agreed upon were canceled under various pretexts.

What should have been a triumphant time was shattered by that video!

Afterward, he tried to check the surveillance footage to find the culprit behind it, but was blocked by the excuse of "the surveillance system was under maintenance during that period."

Ha! Surveillance maintenance?

What kind of place is The Elysian? Its security system is tighter than a bank’s. How could it be under "maintenance" at such a time? Clearly someone was targeting him.

But who? He racked his brains but couldn’t figure out a single clue.

The phone suddenly rang, and the name "Mia Chapelle" flashing on the screen was blinding!

The anger in his heart flared up again.

That day, to calm public opinion, he had no choice but to publicly acknowledge the marriage news with Mia, originally just a stopgap measure, but Mia really started considering herself as the Pence family’s young lady.

Every day on her social media, if she wasn’t showing off luxury bags, she’d post some pretentious words about "husband working hard," afraid that others wouldn’t know she had latched onto him.

She quit her job, claiming pregnancy, and spent every day at home watching his every move. Sometimes, if he worked late, she’d call to check in, and when he was entertaining clients, she would text him every half hour.

It was suffocating, just thinking about it made him feel like he couldn’t breathe.

"Annoying."

Zion cursed under his breath, tugging at his tie.

At that moment, he suddenly thought of the good times with Holly.

The alcohol burned in his stomach, yet his memories grew clearer.

Holly was never this clingy, nor this materialistic.

Seven years, he had been with Holly for seven years.

Zion downed another swig of wine, grabbing his phone, his fingers sliding across the screen, skillfully dialing the number he knew by heart.

"The number you have dialed is shut off..." The cold, mechanical voice extinguished the fire within him.

He opened WeChat, inputting the phone number for a search.

He clicked on "Send friend request," typing a line into the box: "Holly, give me another chance."

Sending failed, the recipient refused to receive your message.

He wasn’t discouraged, sending another: "I know I was wrong."

Failed again.

"Seven years of feelings, you just cut off?"

Still a failure.

Zion looked at the avatar, suddenly chuckling to himself, the laughter growing louder, tinged with madness, but his eyes filled with obsession.

"Holly, our seven years together, how could you possibly forget so quickly?"

He muttered to himself, fingertips almost pressing through the screen, "Did you forget we talked about growing old together? You said you’d always be with me, how could you forget..."

"You can only be mine." He clutched his phone so tightly that his knuckles turned white, "No one else can take you, you must come back."

The people around watched him laugh and talk to the phone, sensibly keeping silent, no one dared to speak up.

Then, in a corner, someone started speaking in a lowered voice about gossip: "Did you hear? Blake Sinclair got married."

"Really? Wasn’t it just a rumor a while ago?"

"Absolutely true, a friend of mine works in his company, he posted about it himself on social media, just didn’t show his face."

"Wow, who could have such a pull, to settle Blake Sinclair? It must be some rich heiress, right?"

"Hard to say, a friend of mine’s sister went to the civil affairs bureau for a divorce yesterday, and happened to see Blake Sinclair registering for marriage, even secretly took a photo."

"Quick, let us see! Maybe we can recognize her, so we can greet her if we see her in the future."

Zion turned a deaf ear to these conversations.

Blake Sinclair married? Nothing special about that.

People with their kind of family backgrounds, marriages are often an exchange of interests, finding someone of equally eminent family background for alliance, supporting each other’s endeavors, he wasn’t even interested to look up.

"President Pence, would you like to see the photo? You might recognize her.

"The person gossiping earlier approached with the phone, eager to please as he asked.

Zion didn’t respond.

Taking his silence as agreement, the phone buzzed, and a photo came from that person.

He was about to open it, but suddenly a call from Mia Chapelle popped up, followed by a WeChat message, glaringly painful:

"Zion Pence, if you don’t come back, I’ll abort the child."

Again with this.

Using the child to threaten him.

Zion let out a sharp breath, the fury in his chest nearly exploding.

He answered the phone, his tone icy, "Mia, have you had enough of this?"

Saying this, he stood up and strode towards the door.

New messages kept coming up, the chat window he hadn’t opened slowly sinking further down.