Chapter 35
Charlotte finished her dinner and curled up on the sofa.
She started and deleted multiple messages to Liam, eventually giving up entirely.
What was Zarek’s game?
He’d sent her his measurements but didn’t actually want the suit?
Was he just toying with her?
She couldn’t decipher the cryptic billionaire’s intentions, nor did she want to. Besides this unresolved suit situation, their lives would likely never intersect again.
Footsteps approached from outside the living room.
Charlotte quickly closed the chat window and put her feet down.
“Where are all your clothes, shoes, bags, and jewelry?” Issac demanded the moment he entered.
11
11
Charlotte’s heart skipped a beat.
He’d noticed?
Wait–what was with this guy today? Coming home for dinner without warning, then inspecting her closet?
“My clothes and shoes are at the dry cleaner’s. The bags and jewelry are being serviced,” she replied with feigned
nonchalance and a hint of irritation at the interrogation.
“All of them? At once?”
“Yeah, why not?” she snapped. “I’ve been bored with nothing to do, so I’ve been organizing the house. I couldn’t remember which clothes I’d worn and which I hadn’t, so I just took everything to be cleaned. Same with the bags and jewelry–the diamonds had lost their sparkle, the leather had faded. I took everything in for maintenance while
I had the time.”
Her explanation was logical and coherent.
There seemed no reason for her to lie.
Issac felt something was off, but her explanation made sense, so he believed her.
She had been home a lot lately, and thinking back, she had been busy organizing the house every time he returned.
“There’s no rush. You’re not just home for a few days–you can take your time.”
11:22
The Moment I Let Go My Uncle: Escaping the Forbidden Past.
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Chapter 35
“But I’m going on that trip soon,” she replied with an edge to her voice. “I’ll be leaving in a few days, and I want everything clean before I go.”
There was nothing objectionable about her statement, yet it still bothered Issac.
He spotted the navy blue shopping bag on the sofa and bent to pick it up. “Is this for me-
“No-”
Charlotte instinctively interrupted, leaning forward to stop him.
Both sentences remained unfinished as they froze simultaneously.
Issac’s face turned frigid.
Charlotte recovered quickly, adding, “It’s for my dad.”
”
Issac’s disappointment was painfully obvious. “You bought something for your father but didn’t think to get anything for your husband?”
Charlotte countered with a bitter smile, “Do you need more suits? Your collection probably rivals Brooks Brothers at this point.”
Ha, the suits he kept at Evelyn’s place probably outnumbered the ones at home.
Issac was speechless.
Charlotte ignored him, grabbed the suit from the sofa, slipped on her shoes, and hurried upstairs.
She retreated to her study and soon heard a car driving away.
She exhaled in relief.
The next day was Sunday, with perfect weather.
She visited Stuyvesant High School, where she and Issac had attended together.
Though it was the weekend, a few students were around–some for club activities, others for extra academic help.
She strolled casually around campus, revisiting places from her shared past with Issac–classrooms where they’d sat together, tree–lined paths they’d walked, the track field where they’d run…
The memories washed over her, bittersweet rather than painful now. She touched the cool metal of the lockers, ran her fingers along wooden desks carved with generations of initials.
Finally, she reached the bamboo grove by the artificial lake and dug up a box they had buried in a hidden corner.
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Chapter 35
It had been the night before their college entrance exams. After evening study hall, Issac had dragged her here. The area had been pitch black, and they’d used their phones as flashlights, writing on paper balanced on their knees.
He’d said they would dig it up together twenty years later.
The weak light had illuminated his eyes, making them brighter than the stars.
Charlotte smiled gently as she removed her time capsule from the box. There was something cathartic about this–not destroying the past, but acknowledging it and letting it go.
Goodbye, Issac.
Not the man you’ve become, but the boy you were.
At that same moment, Issac was in the project manager’s office.
The blinds were drawn, the door closed.
The project team silently seethed outside.
Issac frowned deeply as he reviewed Evelyn’s project proposal, growing more frustrated with each page. This wasn’t just subpar–it was a complete disaster.
Evelyn paid no attention to his mood, leaning against his shoulder, her hands constantly wandering where they shouldn’t.
Though not as beautiful as Charlotte, she was wild enough, provocative enough, and bold enough in her pursuit that few men could resist her persistent advances.
For men, the heart and body could operate independently.
“Issac, don’t you want to do it right here?” Her hand moved toward his crotch. “No one would dare come in…”
“For Christ’s sake, stop it!” Issac snapped, his patience wearing dangerously thin.
Issac wasn’t in the mood. He removed her hand and slammed the project proposal on the desk. “This is what you came up with after supposedly working seven or eight all–nighters?”
He knew she wouldn’t be as competent as Charlotte, but he hadn’t expected this level of incompetence. Was this some kind of joke?
It was complete nonsense, absurdly bad! The financials were wrong, the timelines impossible, and the basic business case fundamentally flawed.
Issac massaged his temples in frustration. He found himself longing for the days when Charlotte ran the project department. Everything had flowed so smoothly then–problems were solved before they reached his desk, opportunities were identified before competitors saw them. She had made him look like a genius.
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Evelyn pouted, hurt by his criticism. Why couldn’t he just admire her and overlook her mistakes like all her other conquests?
Just then, Issac’s phone rang. He glanced at it, walked to the window, and answered curtly, “Report.”
“Ms. Whitmore went out again today. She spent quite a while at Stuyvesant High School, then went to an upscale residential complex called Orchard Gardens. It’s very expensive with strict security–non–residents can’t enter.”
The person monitoring Charlotte provided a detailed account.
Issac grew increasingly suspicious.
High school? Residential complex?
Suddenly, his eyes darkened. “You said non–residents can’t enter? What if she knows someone inside?”
“If a resident vouches for her, she could certainly enter.”
“Send me the address. Keep watching her.”
“Yes, sir.”
Issac hung up irritably. His mistress had created a disaster of a project proposal, and his wife was behaving
strangely.
He turned to find Evelyn right behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, clinging to him like a leech. “Why do you even care about her? You don’t love her anymore. You have me now.”
Issac suppressed his growing disgust and pried her octopus–like grip from his body. He gripped her shoulders firmly, his expression grave. “Redo the proposal. Take it seriously. If you don’t understand something, ask the team leaders for help.”
With that, he left, his face cold. What had he gotten himself into with this girl? She was fun in bed, but utterly useless in business. Charlotte would have completed a professional proposal in a day, where Evelyn had produced garbage after supposedly working for over a week.
Evelyn smashed everything in the office in her rage.
Ask for help? He expected her to ask for help? Those inferiors weren’t worthy of teaching her anything!
Wait…
The team leaders were all Charlotte’s people. Was Issac telling her to learn from Charlotte’s subordinates?
Immediately, she summoned all three team leaders via intercom and verbally eviscerated them. When the Team One leader, Sharon Gu, dared to speak up, Evelyn slapped her.
The other two team leaders were furious but remained silent.
This wasn’t a lady–this was a rabid dog!
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- CM. Unala: Fecaning the Forbidden Past.
Chapter 35
Charlotte placed her time capsule on a shelf in her new home.
There was no need to throw it away or burn it.
It wasn’t just about Issac–her life had never been only about Issac, even if he’d consumed so much of it.
Her phone rang. She checked–Issac?
Perhaps he sensed their marriage was at death’s door and was experiencing its final “flicker” before extinction.
Charlotte neither answered nor declined the call, letting it ring out with indifference.
When it stopped ringing, a message notification appeared.
She rolled her eyes as she opened it, then realized it wasn’t from Issac but from Liam Morgan.
Had his employer finally provided new instructions?
