Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

The next day was Saturday; Rosemary had no work, so she slept in until eleven before she hit up Yolanda for some grub.

Last night, Maxwell got her so riled up that she almost burst a blood vessel, and today she's still feeling all kinds of choked up. It just goes to show that staying clear of douchebags is the secret to a long life!

They decided to go for some cuisine at a spot owned by one of Yolanda’s clients – she wanted to show some support.

Standing at the grand entrance of the restaurant, Yolanda clutched her wallet and grumbled, “This is gonna cost me an arm and a leg. Their food costs an absolute bomb. If it wasn’t for showing my face, I’d give this place a wide berth from fifty meters out.”

Rosemary chuckled lightly, "Otherwise, how’s he gonna splurge on antiques?"

"That’s true," Yolanda agreed, linking arms with her. "Come on, let’s strut in and show off my ‘money's no object’ moment."

The restaurant boasted a 360-degree panoramic glass design, offering a clear view from the outside. They were about to walk in when Rosemary stopped dead in her tracks; her eyebrows knitted together tightly as she saw someone sitting at a window seat.

Yolanda’s expression soured too, and her voice dripped with disdain, "When did she get back in town?"

Rosemary shook her head, clueless.

The person at the seat was none other than her half-sister, Stacey Chambers. After her mother died in a car accident, her father remarried in a heartbeat, bringing in a stepmom with a daughter two

years younger than Rosemary.

Yolanda made a face like she'd just tasted something foul, "Let's go. Hopefully, she won’t come over to make an unwanted scene."

She deliberately chose a spot far from Stacey, but someone just had no shame nor ability to read the room. They had barely ordered when the woman approached, feigning surprise, "Rosemary, is that really you?"

Rosemary couldn’t be bothered to engage. There was never any sisterly love between them, and things had gotten downright nasty three years ago, almost to the point of no return. Now, seeing her only brought on a wave of disgust.

With a fiery temper, Yolanda couldn’t stand Stacey's scheming and social-climbing ways. Without mincing words, she shot back, "Don’t come over here trying to play the family card. Even if you’ve got a thick skin, you should at least have the decency to notice that you’re not welcome."

"Playing the family card?" Stacey looked down on Rosemary with a scoff, "Her entire wardrobe isn’t worth as much as my coat. Why would I need to climb up to her?"

Since her fallout with Maxwell, Rosemary hardly ever splurged on luxury brands. There was no need, and it wasn’t practical for work. But Stacey always had a thing for the high life, even dressing to the nines for a trip to the farmers market. Back when the Chambers were flying high, Stacey owned a bag collection that took up two whole walls.

When they went bankrupt, and creditors were hounding them, Stacey refused to part with her treasures to pay off debts. Eventually, things got so bad that their deadbeat dad whisked them abroad, leaving Rosemary alone to deal with the aggressive creditors.

Now, seeing Stacey decked out in luxury, Rosemary had a complex emotion welling up in her. It wasn't jealousy, just a reflection on their starkly different circumstances. As daughters of the Chambers family, she had to sacrifice her marriage to pay off debts while Stacey lived carefree under their father's wing.

Rosemary’s gaze finally landed on the employee badge that Stacey wore – Vice President of Stellar Group.

So she was not only back in the country but also sitting pretty as the company's second in command.

Yolanda stared at Stacey with a contemptuous look, as if she was viewing a pile of stinking trash, "Of course you don’t need to climb up to anyone when you’ve got a shameless, vile father who ran his own company into the ground and then took out loans in his own daughter’s name. So low; it’s a wonder he hasn’t been struck by lightning."

Their loud exchange drew shocked stares from around the restaurant; people started to whisper and look their way.

Stacey, dying of embarrassment, retorted, "Yolanda, have you no class? Making a scene like some fishwife in this kind of establishment."

"You’re talking about class? Showing off here like a dog in heat? You think I’m gonna let you play that game? You think you're special because you've got two dads?"

Stacey was fuming!

But with so many eyes on her, she couldn’t just let it go without losing face. Just then, a waiter approached, addressing Yolanda with due respect, "Miss, this is a fine dining restaurant; please keep your voice down."

"Fine dining? You let a dog disrupt our meal and now you want me to pipe down? We were sitting here peacefully before she came over barking at us. Instead of shooing her away, you’re telling me to be quiet? Is this how you treat your customers?"

The waiter, caught off-guard by the scolding, looked helplessly at Stacey, whose face was now the color of a beet, "Madam, what do you think we should do?"

Stacey, with a belly full of rage, snapped, "Who are you calling 'madam'?"

With that, Stacey threw a final venomous glance at Rosemary and stormed off.

Yolanda snorted coldly, "Don’t let her off the hook. Clap back every time you see her, and she’ll be as meek as a mouse around you in no time."

She huffed again, "What a piece of work; after living off your blood, how could she still act all high and mighty. She must take after your dad, the scumbag!"

Rosemary couldn’t help but laugh, "Sounds like you’re dissing me too."

She and Stacey had been at each other’s throats since they were kids, but she never came out on the losing side. The real losses were always at the hands of their biased, lousy dad. Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org exclusive © material.

Realizing her slip, Yolanda laughed awkwardly, "My bad, my bad!"

The charity exhibition was on Friday, showcasing recently unearthed porcelain. The organizer was a serious fan of pottery, and the venue was set up in Greenwood's biggest cultural center, with separate areas for sales and display.

Heritage Revive Studio, tasked with temporarily storing the porcelain, had to have someone on-site to keep watch.

With just a handful of people in the studio and the senior members excused, the rest, including Rosemary, were drafted for exhibition duty.

Rosemary was strolling down the hall at a snail's pace. She had already checked out everything in the exhibition area, so she made a beeline for the sales section.

The sales section was a mixed bag, with a bit of everything from modern calligraphy and paintings, to luxury items and jewels. The price tags weren't exactly peanuts – all these goods were consigned by others, and a cool 10 percent of the selling price had to be forked over for charity.

Rosemary was just browsing without much thought when suddenly her steps froze. Her gaze locked onto a painting.

It was a modern piece, with a riot of colors smeared across the background. At first glance, it looked all over the place, yet somehow it had an artistic vibe. If you looked closely, you could spot the figure of a girl wearing a red hat and a black velvet gown, with her back to the viewer, holding a rabbit balloon.

In that moment, a layer of moisture uncontrollably welled up in Rosemary's eyes.