Anne paused the video with a hard tap and handed the phone back to Augustine. "I’m not interested in her apology," she said, irritated. "Does she really think a simple ’sorry’ can undo everything?"
The sting of what she had endured still lingered—those whispered comnts behind her back, the cold stares, and worst of all, losing her role as project lead. The damage wasn’t sothing an apology could sweep away.
"I removed her as my secretary," Augustine said, hoping this would ease her a bit. "I sent her back to the sales departnt. But if you want her gone for good, just say the word. I’ll fire her."
"No." Anne shook her head. "That’s too easy. Let her stay—but make her work. Put her on the street handing out flyers, make her earn every second of her paycheck. Let her taste what real work is like."
She snorted bitterly. "She didn’t even know how to put a proper report together. Yet sohow, she beca the CEO’s secretary. She clearly used underhanded tactics to land that position—and she assus everyone else operates the sa way."
"If that’s what you want, I’ll see to it," Augustine said calmly. "And gan—don’t worry about her. I’ll handle her, too. She won’t get in your way again."
Anne’s face tightened at the ntion of gan. "She thinks too highly of herself," she said coldly. "She is convinced she is going to marry you. And with the way her family is connected to the Beaumonts, I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries to use that to push you into it. Your grandfather already likes her. Do you really think he’d accept soone like —soone who doesn’t even know who her real parents are?"
Her voice faltered slightly, doubt creeping into her eyes. She knew how the Beaumonts carried themselves—high status, proud lineage, rigid expectations. Soone like her would never be considered a match in their eyes.
"What if he says no?" she asked quietly. "What if he tells you to leave and marry her instead? What will you do then? Who will you choose?"
Augustine didn’t answer right away. He looked at her, pain flickering in his eyes. Then he let out a slow, weary sigh and lowered his head.
"It’s my fault," he said softly. "After everything, I still haven’t earned your trust."
Anne froze, speechless, realizing she had asked the wrong questions. Guilt crept in. She hadn’t ant to question his loyalty—not like that.
"That’s not what I ant," she said quickly, setting her plate aside. She reached for his hands, gripping them tightly. "I do trust you. I’m just... worried. Your grandfather won’t see the way you do. To him, gan is suitable for you—rich, well-connected, from the kind of family the Beaumonts respect. And ?" Her voice wavered. "I’m just a nobody. An orphan, raised by a modest family. My foster father is in a coma. I have nothing to offer your world. They won’t accept ."
"I don’t care what my grandfather thinks," he said, his tone hardening. "I don’t need his approval. He stopped having control over a long ti ago. He can’t pressure into anything anymore, not like before."
He lifted a hand and gently cupped her face, his gaze softening. "You’re the woman I love, my wife. No one can change that—not him, not anyone."
Anne’s lips curled into a small, bittersweet smile. Her thoughts drifted to Tania’s sharp words, the way she had painted a picture of a cold, biased family that had looked down on Augustine and his parents. Yet despite everything, Augustine had stood tall, carved his own path, and built sothing without their help.
"I just don’t want to be the reason you fight with your grandfather," she said quietly. "He is still your elder. If he doesn’t approve of ... It’s fine. We don’t need his blessing. We’ll be okay on our own."
"I know," Augustine murmured as he pulled her into a hug, his hand gently running through her hair. "I spoke to him," he said reassuringly. "I told him everything about you—how important you are to . He finally understood. He is not going to push gan on anymore."
He pulled back slightly, his hands resting on her shoulders, a faint smile lifting the corners of his lips. "In fact, he wants to et you. We’re going to see him tonight."
Anne blinked, stunned. "Seriously? He wants to et ?"
He nodded, firm and sure. "Yes. He said your background doesn’t matter. Since I’ve chosen you, he’ll accept you."
A smile slowly broke across Anne’s face, her earlier doubts fading. "Alright then." Her tone was light with relief. "Let’s go et him."
Just as their conversation settled into ease, Augustine’s phone buzzed sharply, cutting through the mont. He glanced at the screen—Gustave.
"I need to take this," he said, swiping to answer. "Hello?"
"Sir," Gustave’s voice ca through, breathless and urgent, "the driver woke up. He gave his statent. It wasn’t just an accident—it was staged. Soone is trying to kill Madam."
Augustine’s expression darkened instantly. His eyes flicked to Anne. "Stay where you are. I’m on my way," he said curtly, ending the call.
Anne, watching him closely, felt her heart stir with unease. "Are you going sowhere?" she asked, noticing the sudden tension in his face.
"Sothing urgent ca up at the office," he replied, already striding toward the closet.
"But it’s Saturday," she said, trailing after him. "You’re working today too?" She had hoped they’d go to the hospital together to visit her father.
Augustine had planned the sa—to spend the day by her side—but this was sothing he couldn’t ignore. He stopped, turned to her, and t her eyes with an apologetic look. "I won’t be long," he said gently. "I promise."
Anne exhaled, disappointnt flashing briefly before she nodded. "Alright. After you are done, et at the hospital. I’m going to see my father."
He gave her a soft smile, his tone reassuring. "Call if anything happens."
Reviews
All reviews (0)