Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

"Get away," Rosemary's voice was trembling, her words came out weak: "If you bother me again, I'm gonna post our marriage certificate online for the whole world to see that Victoria's a homewrecking mistress."

Maxwell just sneered at this "threat,” "Aren't you the one who brought up divorce first?"

"That's because she got in between us first."

The man's expression remained unchanged, his tone indifferent. "Then forget about divorce."

Her threat backfired, and Rosemary despised this man for being her bane. Ever since she got together with him, she never had a day of peace.

Maxwell, examining her slender fingers after a gentle rub, diagnosed, "They're not broken."

"You'd probably be thrilled if they were."

"Not really, but if you dare take Martin's money, I wouldn't just wish for them to break, I'd break them myself."

"You're nuts!"

She pushed him away, and this time Maxwell didn't stop her, letting her get out of the car and stride away.

After this unpleasant night, Rosemary and Maxwell never contacted each other again.

Though she didn't see him in real life, news about him kept popping up in the financial reports.

She knew he went to Zion City and stayed there for half a month.

In early October, when Victoria's painting was restored, she called her up, all business: "Ms. Temple, your painting is restored. When can we meet?"

"I'm in Zion City right now, and I'm not sure when I'll return. I'll let you know when I am back," Victoria's voice was gentle yet carried a hint of barely noticeable disdain—not directed towards Rosemary, but rather because her current status allowed her to be pampered everywhere she went, which led to this attitude.

"Okay."

After hanging up, her thoughts wandered. Maxwell was in Zion City, Victoria was there too—it couldn't be that much of a coincidence, could it?

Why bother with a secret rendezvous in another place? Why not just get divorced and openly move on to the next marriage?

She glanced at the calendar again. After Pearl's birthday, there'd be less than a month left on their three-year contract. Maxwell should not delay their divorce any longer.

Thinking this way, the fatigue from days of staying up late and working overtime lessened significantly. Although she had been both tired and sleepy, after taking a shower and lying in bed, she couldn't feel even a bit of sleepiness.

She opened Twitter and scrolled through. Seeing a picture of a dog, she quickly saved it and matched it with a cartoon poop emoji. After combing the two, she shared the composite image on Facebook: "A match made in heaven."

No sooner had she posted on Facebook than she got a comment.

It was Yolanda. [Please post someone's name on the public screen, don't hold it back.]

Rosemary couldn't help but snort with laughter. Before she could finish laughing, Yolanda's video call came through, "Is that dog Maxwell sniffing around Victoria again?"

"Not sure, but Victoria's in Zion City, and so is he. They are probably together."

"You can't teach an old dog new tricks. How stinky must Victoria be for Maxwell to be obsessing over her for so many years?" Còntens bel0ngs to Nô(v)elDr/a/ma.Org

"Why do I feel like you're also implying something about me?"

"How could it be? You're you, and a dog is a dog."

They chatted a bit more, but since it was late and they both had to work the next day, they hung up.

Rosemary slept very well that night, not having a single dream.

The next day, she woke up and checked Facebook out of habit and saw new replies to her Facebook post from the night before.

One of them was actually from Maxwell.

[Rosemary, you're looking for trouble.]

Rosemary really hadn't expected a busy CEO like Maxwell would actually browse Facebook, let alone replying. It was unlike his usual cold and aloof image.

Her Facebook post was indeed about him and Victoria, but it was so vague. How did he deduce its intended meaning?

It must be a guilty conscience that made him suspect it was about himself at the first hint of implication.

He might have time to kill, but she didn't. Considering they were about to divorce, there was no need to complicate things further, so she didn't reply to the comment.

October 17th was Pearl's birthday. Victoria had contacted her on October 13th, and they agreed to meet near the hotel where she was staying.

Victoria was dressed in a vacation-style long dress made of soft chiffon fabric, with the entire back being openwork. Her makeup was delicate, and the sunglasses resting on her nose nearly covered most of her face.

"Rosemary, hope you don't mind coming all this way? It's just that I've just got back and I'm too tired to be running around."

There was a suitcase beside her; likely she had contacted Rosemary right off the plane.

Rosemary revealed no emotion, maintaining a professional attitude, "You're our client; it's up to you where we meet, especially since the travel expenses are included in your payment."

Victoria's face froze, annoyed at the thought of paying several times the market rate.

If it weren't for the time crunch and no one else willing to take the job, would she have been overcharged by someone called Rose?

She even wondered if Rosemary might have bad-mouthed her to Rose, which is why she was charged such a high price.

However, the painting was already restored, so there was no point in fussing over these details.

Rosemary pushed the box with the antique painting toward Victoria, "Take a look, and if it's all good, you can settle the final payment."

Victoria yawned, looking exhausted, "No need to check, I trust you."

She took out her phone and transferred the money to Rosemary efficiently.

Rosemary seriously reminded her, "Once the painting is in your hands, whether you check it or not, we'll assume you did. If there are any issues afterward, we will not be responsible. Antique paintings are delicate; they must be kept in a dry place, must not come in contact with moisture. I've included a note with preservation tips inside, please make sure to read it when you get back."

Victoria's painting had way too many marks, and Rosemary truly felt pity while restoring it. Such a piece of heritage was a pity—although it had been restored, how could it compare to the original work?

Hearing Rosemary's words, Victoria was just about to open the box to check, but then her phone rang.

She glanced at the caller ID, then immediately withdrew her hand from the box and picked up the call, while simultaneously said to Rosemary, "Got it, thanks."

Victoria picked up her stuff off the table and dragged her suitcase, ready to leave.

Rosemary caught her tell the person over the phone, "I'll head back to the room right now. I must have been in a rush packing and ended up putting your things with mine."

That voice had lost its usual high-and-mighty tone and was all dolled up with a womanly, soft coyness.

It was evident from the voice that the person on the other end and she had a close relationship. Rosemary's first thought was Maxwell.