Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

Martin wasn't the type to take the blame lightly. He may have appeared gentle, but deep down, he was quite detached, making it hard for anyone to truly reach his heart. Yet now, a mix of rage, a twinge of heartache, and regret surged within him. "So you were sober that night?"Ccontent © exclusive by Nô/vel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Maxwell nodded, "Yes."

He was indeed sober. He knew perfectly well that Rosemary had followed him obediently, mistaking him for Martin. Even their subsequent intimacy was something he had forced.

Without another word, Martin swung his fist towards Maxwell's face. He might not have been one for brawls, but he had been trained from a young age.

After all, with their kind of background, there were always enemies or people looking for shortcuts eyeing them.

The punch Martin threw packed a serious punch.

Maxwell stepped back, raising his arm to block while simultaneously aiming a kick at Martin's knee.

The hospital room was small and not soundproof, so as soon as they started scuffling, the commotion was heard outside.

Rosemary hadn't gone downstairs. Seeing Martin's dark expression when he came in, she feared something might happen and stayed close by, overhearing their conversation.

She hurried in through the door just in time to see Maxwell landing a punch on Martin's shoulder.

It had been aimed at his face, but Martin dodged it.

"Martin..." Rosemary quickly walked over, pulling the wincing Martin aside, and turned to glare at Maxwell: "What the hell, did a dog bite you or something?"

"Get out of the way."

The weather was gloomy, making the room's lighting poor, so even during the day, the lights were on. The pallid glow of incandescent bulbs cast an eerie shadow over Maxwell's face, outlining an ominous aura.

Rosemary had her hair up in a bun today, revealing a face only as big as a man's palm. Her light outfit made her look non-threatening, almost like she would be easy to push around.

But now, she stood in front of Maxwell, protective as a hen with her chick, keeping Martin behind her.

"Enough, Maxwell!" Rosemary closed her eyes momentarily. This man was seriously pushing her limits over and over to the point where she didn't even want to argue anymore.

She turned to look at Martin, but only glanced at him briefly before quickly looking down: "Let's go."

She didn't want anyone to see her in such a mess, nor did she want to catch any pitying stares.

Martin gave her a deep, complex look, his gaze tangled with a whirlwind of emotions.

Maxwell, with a pale and indifferent look in his eyes, had no doubt that if he wasn't there, Martin would've already proposed to Rosemary on the spot. He smirked coldly and sarcastically: "So you're just going to hide behind a woman and let her protect you?"

Martin might not like to fight, and he never thought it solved anything, but at his core, he was a proud and haughty man who couldn't stand being provoked.

Martin took a step forward: "I've been wanting to punch you for a while now."

Maxwell let out a cold laugh: "Good, because I've been feeling the same."

Just as the two men looked ready to go at it again, Rosemary frowned and grabbed Martin. "Why bother with a nutjob? If a dog bites you, you're not gonna bite back, are you?"

Her tone wasn't angry, just full of disdain, as if she were looking at something too pitiful to bear, something disgustingly sickening.

Maxwell half-smiled: "So you were just outside the door the whole time?"

Otherwise, she couldn't have come in so quickly. The moment he and Martin started fighting, she pushed the door open. Rosemary replied, "Yes."

There was no point in hiding it, and it couldn't be hidden anyway. A quick check at the security office would reveal everything.

"You don't have a single question?"

Like why he deliberately made her think he was Martin; why he took her away knowing full well she wasn't looking for him that night; whether the waiter delivered his message or not.

Any question would do.

After the event, Rosemary always thought their encounter was a coincidence, that he was just driven by alcohol and lost his sense after drinking. He didn't explain.

But Rosemary simply shook her head, "No."

Maxwell squinted, a shadow of gloom pressing beneath his brows: "Not even a bit curious?"

"Not curious," Rosemary paused, her voice colder than her complexion: "Because no matter the reason, they're all just disgusting."

Silence fell in the room...

Rosemary and Martin stood together, Maxwell a little farther away. The space was small to begin with, so even "farther away" was within arm's reach. But this distance, easily bridged with an outstretched arm, felt like a chasm.

Maxwell shrugged, "Fair enough,

there was no special reason anyway.

Just that you looked so damn screwable lying there drunk, but the actual deed was pretty

ovelet

underwhelming. No wonder

couldn't get excited about you even

after three years of marriage."

Rosemary was livid. She didn't want to waste her breath arguing with Maxwell, but that didn't stop her from wanting to slap him-

"Smack!"

Maxwell's face was jerked to one side by the force of the slap. Rosemary's face was full of contempt: "You're truly revolting!"

Her hand by her side trembled slightly, the palm burning and reddened, a testament to the strength of that slap.

Maxwell gently massaged his struck cheek, "So you like him that much? Still hung up on him after all these years?"

Rosemary's lips curled slightly, her heart felt as dead as ashes. Disappointment, resentment, loathing, and sorrow all surged at once. She felt like the last three years had been a total waste!

Not wanting to get entangled with Maxwell any longer, she bluntly admitted: "Yeah, I really like him. So much that I can't wait a moment longer, just eager to get a divorce from you."

Her eyes carried a smile: "If you have any decency left, just get the divorce over with and don't hold up my grand wedding."

With that, as if to confirm the truth of her words, she took Martin's hand.

Maxwell watched their clasped

hands, unable to contain his rage that bubbled up, his eyes reddening with fury. He suddenly lunged, grabbing Martin's collar, yanking him away from Rosemary, and met him with a vicious punch to the face.

The punches came hard and fast, not giving anyone the chance to dodge or react.

Maxwell eyed Martin's handsome, gentle, and scholarly face, but there was a layer of bold and thick defiance in his eyes and brows.

You could almost hear the grinding of bones in his tightly clenched fist...

*Bang-*

Due to a lack of real-world fighting experience, Martin didn't react in time and took a solid punch to the right side of his face.

His body tilted to one side, but Maxwell had him by the collar so he didn't go flying.

Martin swung back with a punch of his own.

The two of them went at it, both

fighting like they had nothing to lose,

got

with a fierce, no-holds-barred style The stuff in the hospital room knocked over, furniture was kicked out of place, creating a chaotic

symphony of crashes and bangs.

Maxwell's moves were ruthless, his knuckles already bloody: "You like her too?"

Blood trickled from the corner of Martin's mouth. His lips curled into a mocking sneer, all traces of his usual gentleness and elegance gone: "Yes."

Maxwell snorted derisively: "You think you're worthy?"