<b>Chapter </b>3
<b>43</b><b>%</b>費
Gideon’s demeanor shifted starkly, adopting a cold, detached expression. He barely nced at the medical report she handed him before dismissively tossing it aside.
Despite the sinking feeling in her heart, Margaret remained steadfast, her gaze fixed on him, bracing herself for his response.
A scorful chuckle escaped Gideon as he stood, leaned across the table, and forced her to look up at him.
The room filled with hushed whispers and envious murmurs from the onlookers, which Margaret barely registered in her state of apprehension.
Feeling her cheeks warm, she pursed her lips, forcing herself to meet his frosty stare, her heart sinking
“Do you really think a child makes any difference between <b>us</b>? I’m more than willing to provide financially, but if you’re hoping for anything more, you’re mistaken. Our arrangement has always been clear–emotionless, purely transactional. Don’t fool yourself into thinking it could be anything else,” Gideon stated, his voice devoid of warmth.
The proximity of his breath against her face sent chills through her body, dousing any remaining hope she might have harbored.
With her lips tightly pressed together to keep the tears at bay, Margaret listened as Gideon coldly suggested, “Abort the baby, and make it clean. I don’t <b>need </bplications at this juncture. As always, you’re free to name your terms.”
“Abort the baby?” Margaret mused, reeling. Her <b>hand </b>instinctively went to her stomach, a visceral reaction to his merciless words.
Anger and shock flushed her face red; even though she had prepared for <b>a </b>harsh oue, the reality of his suggestion struck her with the
force of a lightning bolt.
She thought, ‘Forget it… What was I even hoping for? The past four years were nothing but a dream, an illusion. I sold my body for money, but if I were to sell my soul too, it goes without saying that I’ll have to suffer the consequences of my own actions.”
Gideon, seemingly indifferent, lounged back in his chair, watching the tumult of emotions y across Margaret’s face without a flicker of empathy. “Think it over. My assistant will handle the arrangements,” he said, as if discussing something trivial.
Without a word, Margaret rose from her seat, casting a final look at Gideon before hastening to the exit, desperate to leave the oppressive atmosphere of <b>the </b>restaurant behind.
<b>Once </b>outside, she didn’t look back, walking briskly until she reached Mundial Tower. Leaning against its wall, she struggled for breath, the tightness in her chest overwhelming. She grabbed her cor tightly, then nced to the side, only to be once more taken aback by the face that appeared on the vibrant screen of the building.
It <b>was </b>Gideon and Roxanne Lambert, looking radiant together on a massive screen as they smiled and waved to the media. The apanying headline was: (Grand Wedding]
The perfect couple seemed destined for each other, with Gideon disying an uncharacteristic warmth..
<i>Just </i>the
then, the sudden buzz of her phone in the dark jolted Margaret back to reality. A message illuminated the screen: [There’s a charity g
tomorrow night. My dad wants you there.]
H was followed by a signature: [Roxanne Lambert.]
Suddenly, memories flooded back of a devastating night when disaster struck Margaret’s family home. The ceiling had copsed shattered, leaving her mother, Alice Wilcox, critically injured and hospitalized. The hospital corridors echoed with cries of despair as reporters swarmed the ce, and the developer of the house was none other than the Lambert family.
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Chapter 3
<b>Wed</b>, 26 Jun
43%斤
Amidst the chaos and despair, the Lambert family remained absent, opting instead to send awyer to offer a deal in exchange for Margaret’s silence–a full schrship until her graduation.
Despite her protests and pleas, Keh was hastily ushered away by the attorney representing the Lambert family to a neighboring ward. What transpired in there remained a mystery until Keh reemerged half an hourter. He clutched a confidential document, with each signature seemingly etched in the pain and despair of that night.
That night, nobody slept. She peeked into the wardte at night, where she caught a glimpse of Keh’s frail and trembling silhouette, an image that would haunt her for years toe.
Snapped back to the present by the sting of tears on her cheeks<b>, </b>Margaret was startled to find her face wet. She replied: (Okay.]
The following evening. Margaret readied herself before heading out.
Opting for a minimalist approach, she applied a subtle touch of makeup and chose a straightforward outfit–a in T–shirt paired with jeans. She transferred lines <b>twice </b>before <b>making </b>the final leg of the <b>journey </b><b>on </b>foot to reach her destination.Text property ? N?vel(D)ra/ma.Org.
Upon arrival, the hotel bathed in a warm, golden hue captured her attention, its grandeur demanding notice.
Margaret’s gaze swept across her surroundings before she made her way toward the entrance.
“Your name?” an attendant inquired.
“Margaret Wilcox,” she said softly.
The attendant found her name on the list and promptly opened the door for her.
The gold doors to the venue gradually parted to wee her. As Margaret stepped into the lobby, every fiber of her being tensed as her gazended on Roxanne and Gideon onstage.
Their presence together, both striking and harmoniously aligned, particrly Gideon, whose visage caught the light in a way that seemed
almost ethereal
As Margaret entered, the room’s attention shifted in unison toward her.
It was Roxanne who broke the silence, her voice carrying through the microphone, “This evening, we gather not only tomemorate the sess of our fundraising efforts but also to extend a special wee to a distinguished guest. My father had the honor of supporting a young girl’s education 13 years ago. Today, she’s in her senior year of university, excelling academically and receiving attention from numerous news agencies across the city. Please, let’s have Margaret join us onstage.”
Fighting the instinct to flee, Margaret mustered the courage to lift her gaze toward Gideon amidst a sea of apuse.
S