What was meant to be an embrace felt more like being dragged along. Rosemary, already having
consumed several drinks, felt her world starting to spin this time.
The contract had been signed, her mission fulfilled. They were now on separate paths. She
considered herself to be of good temperament; had she been a hothead, she could never have
endured three years with Maxwell, a man she now thought of disdainfully.
But even the best of temperaments could not withstand such senseless antics. “Our cooperation is
ended. Answering queries now would be just unpaid overtime, and I’m not in the mood for that.”
She shrugged off his grip, “Keep your questions to yourself.”
Rosemary then turned towards the fire exit, her room was located on the sixth floor, the restaurant
on the second. She preferred to haul herself up four floors of stairs than tolerate another moment
alone with him.
Maxwell watched her retreating figure, an icy smirk settled on his lips. Just as she was about to
cross his path, he lunged for her arm again, drawing her back towards him.
“Ding.”
The elevator doors slid open simultaneously, and Maxwell, without faltering, secured his arm around
Rosemary, staring intense daggers at the individual standing inside the elevator.
Martin, witnessing the unmistakably charged atmosphere outside, was surprised, a rare expression
from someone usuallyposed. He had known Maxwell for years and this was merely the second
time he’d seen such suppressed emotions darken his face - the brooding ambiance was palpable.
And thest time.
That memory alone caused a phantom pain to manifest in his wrist, a remnant ache from a past
dislocation.
But Martin quickly regained hisposure, nodding at them, “Maxwell, Rosemary.”
Rosemary acknowledged him with a smile and stepped inside, deciding not to avoid any further
confrontation with Maxwell. She didn’t want outsiders to witness their deeply troubled marriage.
Moreover, this was the same friend who once cautioned her against marrying Maxwell. Reflecting
on her past denials now felt like self-inflicted insults – a sting, apanied by humiliation!
After pressing the button for the sixth floor, she retreated to the corner, putting some distance from
Maxwell.
With the contract signed and the three hundred million debt no longer burdening her, all she needed
was half a day to visit the governmental office to im her divorce certificate, and then she could
entirely sever ties with him.
Maxwell’s forbidding eyes were fixed on her unabashedly, his expressionless face etched with a
chilling hostility, “You said earlier, the service of this club is world-ss?”
The elevator was now filled with a quiet, awkward atmosphere as his voice shattered the silence!
“The esteemed Mrs. Templeton seems quite knowledgeable. Have you experienced its amenities
yourself?”
Such a conversation was utterly awkward. with a third party present. Rosemary didn’t dare to look
at Martin’s face. . The services that made a club world-ss weren''t usually of the respectable
variety.
And indeed, this club was famous—she had heard Ynda raving about it.? N?velDrama.Org - All rights reserved.
Maxwell’s words were calcted and pointed, grinding away at her already frayed nerves, “What
style did you look for?”
Rosemary had intended to y dead, but at his words, she couldn’t hold back and retorted,
“Definitely not your style, for certain.”
Martin discreetly coughed, trying to suppress his awkwardness or maybe a chuckle. When
Rosemary nced his way, it was a mere reflex without any personal feeling, but to Maxwell, whose
mind was seemingly filled with unclean thoughts, it clearly meant something else.
From his grim and malevolent expression, Rosemary could almost hear his next words: If Martin’s
style appeals more to your taste, do you need me to request the manager for a few more in that
style?
The thought was maddening!
As Rosemary pondered how to shut him up, the elevator reached the sixth floor, and the doors
opened with a “ding.”
She hastened out without a moment’s dy, almost sprinting in her rush—grateful that Maxwell
didn’t follow.
Once safely in her room, she inserted the room card into the power switch, tossed her bag and
phone on the entrance console table and headed straight for the bathroom to freshen up.
By the time she finished her bath and skincare, an hour had passed.
She sat on the bed, rubbing on body lotion while video-chatting with Ynda. Her tone light and
cheerful, “The contract’s been signed.”
“So you are free from the three hundred million debt?”
“Yeah,” Rosemary’s face beamed with rxation as she exhaled a sigh of relief, “I’m finally released
from the relentlesste nights and overwork. I feared I’d copse before I clearing that debt, even
ending up buying my own grave.”
“When are you returning?” Ynda sounded more jubnt than her, “I’ll book a hotel now and
arrange a big celebration to mark your escape from that swamp named Maxwell!”
Rosemaryughed, “Isn’t this a bit too extravagant?”
“I’m actually toning it down. If I weren’t running low on fundstely, I’d rent an entire hotel for a
grand soiree and invite all the eligible bachelors I know, just to have you pick from.”
“Your selection of eligible bachelors? Kevin, Bob, Jeff?”
A burst ofughter echoed from both ends of the call. In the midst of their jovial exchange, the
sound of the door lock reading a card came from outside, followed by the “click” sound of the lock
core unlocking after a sessful verification.
Someone wasing in.
Rosemary’s mood abruptly dampened, “I better hang up now, seems like Maxwell asked the staff for
a keycard.”
She grumbled while putting on her shoes, “Can you believe how petty he is? A grown man, and he''s
still picking a fight with me thiste.”
Definitely because Martin was there. Maxwell didn''t want to make a scene in front of him. Men and
their egos and now, here hees again.
It was just a banter, was it really worth holding onto so stubbornly?
Rosemary, in her pajamas, walked towards the door, but before she could reach it, someone
pushed the door open from the outside.
However, the person who entered wasn’t Maxwell.