Lisa replied coldly, “Can’t wait.
Remember to remind your boss to go to the Registry Office at nine tomorrow morning.”
Then she left!
Getting divorced just like that?
Andrew hurried after her, urgently saying, “Ma’am, actually, Mr. Ford cares about you deeply.”
Lisa paused, looking at him as if he were an alien.
What made him think Alexander cared for her?
Hadn’t he and Vivian been obvious enough?
Was he blind?
With observational skills like that, he wouldn’t pass probation at her company!
“Let me show you a video.”
Andrew opened the car door, took out a tablet, and was about to play the champagne tower video.
A furious roar came from the second floor, “Andrew, get in here now!”
“Coming!”
He responded, “Ma’am, could you wait for me a moment?”
Lisa had no time to waste. She called her driver to take her home.
Alexander stood by the second–floor railing, watching her figure disappear through the main gate.
That inexplicable restlessness inside him grew heavier,
Back at her apartment,
Lisa dropped her duffel bag by the entryway.
The empty rooms echoed with solitude.
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Late into the night, she lay in bed wide awake.
Pale silver moonlight filtered through the curtains.
She rose, walked to the desk, and opened the bottom drawer.
Inside lay a [yellowed paper airplane].
Carefully unfolding it,
she revealed paper edges frayed with age, covered in dense rows of dates.
The dates spanned twelve years–each marking their meetings.
Taking a pen, she added today’s date beside the last entry: XX/XX/XXXX.
Fingertips tracing the faded ink, an inner voice whispered:
I’m sorry, big brother… this time I have to stop.
Even if you never remembered who I was, this path I walked so long still couldn’t reach you.
May your journey ahead be safe and smooth.
As for me… it’s time to find my own way.
She swallowed back the rising ache,
refolded the paper airplane,
and returned it to the drawer.
Exhaustion finally claimed her long after midnight.
Leaving the family manor,
Alexander found himself driving to Royal Estate.
The fragrance of Memorial Pavilion’s flowers still perfumed the night air.
Gulping down glass after glass of liquor,
he climbed upstairs only when properly drunk.
Pushing open the master bedroom door,
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he faced the vast king–sized bed with its dark, cold linens.
The mattress yielded softly beneath him yet held no warmth.
Closing his eyes, Lisa’s image flooded his mind unbidden.
For three years, she’d shared intimate moments with him here-
though they only met twice a month.
But every time, he wore her out completely.
Her shy blush now and then.
When teased, her cute irritation.
Her calm profile while reading intently.
These scenes were vivid and bothered him.
Was he actually… feeling nostalgic?
Even… a little sad?
Alexander suddenly sat up, rubbing his temples.
He must have had too much to drink.
How could he feel this way about her?
He wanted freedom!
To be with Vivian properly.
The goal was reached now, right?
But why did he feel so hollow inside?
He stared at the dark night outside, doubting himself for the first time.
Early next morning.
Royal Estate.
Sunlight streamed through the floor–to–ceiling windows, spilling onto the plush king–size bed.
Alexander opened his eyes.
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He sat up, rubbing his temples, fatigue still evident in his gaze.
Yet after showering and changing into a tailored black suit, he descended the spiral staircase. Standing at the center of the living room, any lingering sorrow had vanished.
His usual commanding presence returned–piercing eyes, clenched jawline, radiating an aloofness that kept others at bay.
Confident and composed, he was once more the Ford Family CEO who controlled everything.
Andrew stood waiting nearby. Seeing his boss descend, he greeted respectfully:
“Mr. Ford, good morning.”
Alexander gave a slight nod.
He strode toward the dining table, long legs moving with steady purpose.
Picking up a glass of milk, he took two swift gulps.
The cool liquid sliding down his throat seemed to sharpen his focus.
Setting down the glass, his knuckles whitened as he snatched the open newspaper. His eyes scanned the financial headlines for mere seconds.
Then he checked his wristwatch.
Time to go.
“Registry Office.”
His tone icy, he addressed the chauffeur standing ready.
Andrew stood behind him, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously.
His lips parted as if to speak.
But he swallowed his words.
The air grew heavy,
Suddenly-
Buzzing…
A phone’s vibration shattered the silence.
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Alexander grabbed his phone, glanced at the caller ID, and answered.
After listening briefly, he responded curtly:
“Understood.”
“I’m on my way.”
His voice remained unyielding.
Hanging up, he turned to the waiting driver, command crisp and clear:
“Airport.”
Andrew’s fingers relaxed slightly at his sides.
Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Close call!
# 258 Nouchers
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