Bride of Retribution: Aloof Billionaire's Dominant Game

Anne returned to the hotel and looked at dozens of missed calls on her phone. Although it wasn’t Joseph Shaw’s phone number, she knew it was him calling.

He just changed to a new number. Joseph Shaw had a habit: anything related to numbers, he always chose the number seven. This couldn’t be called a habit anymore; it was almost compulsive.

The number that had just called had two sevens. It couldn’t be such a coincidence that in the deep night, a number with two sevens called dozens of times, unlikely from a stranger.

Those who do not cry alone in the dark cannot talk about life. She had cried in countless lonely nights, so does she have the right to talk about life?

She still didn’t have it; she didn’t even have the courage to take a call. How could she talk about life?

She hoped all of this would pass quickly, then she would marry, have a cute child, and live this life calmly and steadily.

Love is a luxury for everyone; she hadn’t even touched it.

She smiled faintly, standing in the hotel looking at the silent city. A figure melted into the darkness, letting tears fall drop by drop, what does it feel like to smile while crying?

Even she couldn’t describe it. She felt as though she could see the shore she could rely on, feeling secure, but always feeling that something was going to happen.

She just hoped to get registered quickly so Joseph Shaw won’t come to pester.

His family wouldn’t allow him to pester a married woman, thus it would truly be over.

Hart Hodge was a good person, dignified and knowledgeable. When she confided her past to him, he didn’t mind.

Hart said he needed a clean soul, not a clean body. It was this sentence that moved her.

It made her feel how wonderful it was to rely on and trust someone.

Soon, in a few dozen hours, she would become Mrs. Hodge, and everything would be fine.

She just hoped these dozens of hours could pass peacefully and safely. She stayed in the hotel, didn’t even need to go out, rested well, although she couldn’t provide Hart Hodge a pure bride, at least she wanted to be beautiful and radiant, go take pictures and register with him.

Early the next morning, Atlas Hallow arrived at the Foster Family’s small courtyard while Charlotte Miller was still asleep and Freya Morgon was with Mia preparing breakfast in the yard.

When he walked into the yard, Mia had already come over: ”Uncle Hallow, good morning...”

Mia always spoke with a childish tone, he squatted down to meet Mia’s eyes, enduring with loving and gentle words: ”Mia, good morning, this is a gift for you, see if you like it?”

He wished he could gather all treasures in this world to exchange for Mia’s sweet smile.

But hearing Mia call him Uncle Hallow, he felt a bit sour deep inside.

Mia held the small box, sitting on the rattan chair in the yard, excitedly unfolding it, revealing a pair of pink hair clips inside, designed to be very cute, fully embedded with pink crushed diamonds, sparkling in the sunlight.

No girl can escape the temptation of such beautiful diamonds, even a three-year-old little girl.

Mia had a head of fine, soft, and very dark shiny hair. As soon as he came back, he had someone specially design these for her, thinking even if it was a clip for the hair, it shouldn’t be overlooked.

From the time Mia was born, he wasn’t around, until not long ago when he found out about Mia’s existence, especially because he lost the first child because of him, he always had the urge to put the whole world at his dear daughter’s feet.

Freya stood by Mia, looking at the two extremely exquisite hair clips in the small box, such an item was too precious, Atlas Hallow could give it, but this couldn’t be something to wear on the street or to kindergarten, right?

But looking at Mia, smiling so much that her watery eyes curved into crescents, she couldn’t say anything more.

Atlas Hallow carried the medicine to Charlotte Miller’s room door. The door was closed, but probably not locked.

His large hand grasped the doorknob and pushed gently; it was indeed open, causing a bitter smile in Atlas Hallow’s heart.

It turned out she was only wary of him. Previously, when living in the Hallow Family and having conflicts, she would always lock the door, even knowing he could unlock it, she would instinctively lock it. How much had he failed to make his wife do such a thing?

As the door opened, her scent flooded his breath, the faint rose instantly penetrating his body, making his cells full and soft.

She was still asleep, probably stayed up too late last night, lying under the thin blanket, with graceful curves outlined by the soft fabric.

Atlas approached gently, and she still slept like a child. When he pulled open the blanket, he saw the dried blood stains on the gauze on her fair back.

Half-awake, Charlotte Miller’s lips curled into a smile, her lazy voice seemed to have a soul-stirring effect: ”Why are you here so early?”

”Miss you...” Atlas Hallow’s voice floated low in the air, like elusive tenderness, yet surrounding her.

”Since when did you become so good at sweet-talk?” Charlotte Miller’s long eyelashes fluttered, then slowly opened, whispering.

”This isn’t sweet-talk, I truly miss you.” Atlas Hallow’s breath caressed her, ticklish. She sat up, pulled up the blanket, watching Atlas adeptly pull out the ointment.

”I’ll change your dressing, it’ll hurt a bit.” He held a small silver blade, thinly shining with cold light.

The blade sliced over the gauze on her back, which then fell away.

He was indeed skillful, slicing not one bit into her skin, only cutting through that layer of gauze.

Her slender and lovely back had four small wounds, each already beginning to heal. Atlas Hallow glanced at those injuries, his gaze trembled slightly, then picked up disinfectant cotton swabs to clean up, wiping off the surrounding blood stains, applying a thin layer of ointment, finally wrapping it again with gauze. Once all done, he took Charlotte Miller’s robe from the bedside and draped it over her shoulders.

”Atlas Hallow, don’t treat me so well...” Charlotte Miller still leaned against him, speaking softly: ”I cannot promise you anything.”

She was Rogers’ fiancée. She shouldn’t be this close to Atlas Hallow, should she?

Having gone through much, she began to believe this man loved her; maybe there had been harm, but he truly loved her.

”I can wait.” Atlas seemed to understand what Charlotte was implying. That day when she left angrily, he thought about many things.

Maybe he didn’t truly understand how to best express his love; that was because he couldn’t stand her being away from him, but now he’s willing to wait, willing to give her time, probably the greatest respect.

”Waiting is too distant.” Charlotte Miller closed her eyes; she didn’t want him to see the emotion and bitterness in her eyes.

This world indeed makes people. He wants to wait, but what he waits for, even she does not know.

”Here...” Atlas Hallow took one of Charlotte Miller’s hands, placing it over his chest, where his heart beat: ”Only you have been here, and after you, no one could ever get inside, so however long the wait is, it’s all the same for me.”

”Even if someday, I become someone else’s wife? Would you still wait for me?” Charlotte knew Rogers probably couldn’t hold off the pressure for too long. If circumstances changed, she would return for marriage, even after the wedding she could come back, Rogers wouldn’t interfere privately between her and Atlas.

But she couldn’t do it. On one hand, she was Rogers’ wife; on the other hand, having an affair with Atlas, psychologically, she couldn’t get through it herself.

”Yes, I will keep waiting, waiting for you to willingly come to my side.” Atlas Hallow’s voice was filled with bone-deep burning love, seeming to infect the air around and make it incredibly warm.