Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

"Darren only embarrassed you because he was following her orders. If Mr. Templeton bails, today's investment is going down the drain, and your little dance would've been for nothing!"

Tracy thought those words, if not turning Maxwell against Rosemary, would at least earn Victoria some extra sympathy. But there was dead silence after she spoke, not a peep in response. Frowning, Tracy looked over and saw Maxwell zoning out, not catching a word she said.

After Darren hung up the phone, he cautiously sought the man's approval, "Mr. Templeton, drafting the contract will take a while; how about we grab a drink first?"

"No need, give the contract to Tracy when it's ready. I've got to run."

That was some ninja-level flip-flopping. If Mr. Templeton hadn't been in his sight the whole time, Darren would've sworn it was someone else who had been so eager to draft the contract just moments ago.

Seeing Maxwell about to leave, Victoria also stood up, "Shouldn't be long now. Let's head out together with Tracy; we can drop her off on the way."

Tracy's place was on the way to Meadowlark Retreat, but Victoria's was in the opposite direction, one north and one south.

Maxwell seemed to totally miss the hint in her words, "Have Tracy take you back later."

Victoria didn't expect this outcome. She thought even if Maxwell didn't want to wait for Tracy, he'd still offer her a ride, "What about you?"

Maxwell glanced at his watch, a telltale sign of his impatience, "I came with Archer's car."

Though it was Archer's car, it wasn't like he couldn't take someone else along - it all depended on whether he wanted to or not.

Before she could figure out what to say to get Maxwell to give her a ride, the man had already left the private room.

Archer's car was parked right by the elevator exit. Seeing Maxwell coming down alone, he raised an eyebrow, "Weren't you supposed to pick up your wife? Why the solo exit? Got the boot?"

Maxwell shot him a blank look and got into the car, "Who told you I came here to pick her up?"

"You're all fired up; what happened to you?" Archer glanced at him through the rearview mirror, "Weren't you the one who rushed over from the airport after hearing that Rosemary was invited here by Darren?"

Maxwell's brow furrowed, his face contouring with displeasure.

Archer clicked his tongue, "Look at you, playing the martyr. If you really like her, just keep her close."

"She's still wearing Mrs. Templeton's title, and Darren is known in the circle for being a sleaze. I'm not crazy enough to enjoy being cheated on." Maxwell's impatience was clear as he shut down the conversation, "Zip it; watch the road."

Darren's reputation as a “sleaze” was somewhat undeserved. At worst, he was a lecher who liked young women, but it was always consensual.

Upon leaving the Night Club, Rosemary took a cab straight back to her apartment. Passing by Maxwell's suitcase while getting clothes from the wardrobe, she paused while untying her hair, and then decided to toss the six-figure luggage out into the hallway.

The weather had taken a nosedive, and after being outside, Rosemary's hands and feet had gone numb. She filled the bathtub with water and added a few drops of sleep-inducing essential oil.

After a soothing bath, drying her hair, and applying moisturizing lotion, Rosemary slipped into her fuzzy pajamas and stepped out.

As soon as she opened the door, there was a knock. The only people who knew she lived here were Martin and Maxwell, and she hadn't even told Yolanda to avoid worrying her.

Martin would definitely call before coming over, and as for Maxwell, he was probably too busy canoodling with Victoria to bother coming here. Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

Rosemary tiptoed to the door, grabbing the shoe horn from behind it, "Who's there?"

After a few seconds of silence, a cold male voice came through the door, "Open up."

Rosemary froze for a moment, and then said, "Your luggage is outside, grab it and go."

"Open the door."

"No."

The man chuckled coldly, showing no regard for her refusal, "Unless you want to wake the whole floor up."

Before Maxwell could finish, the tightly locked door was yanked open from the inside, with Rosemary, clad in pajamas, standing behind it, "Spit it out quick."

"Bring it inside," Maxwell kicked the luggage at his feet.

Rosemary lifted her chin, "You think that's happening?"

The standoff was almost palpable. Maxwell narrowed his eyes, his indifferent voice laced with mockery, "Rosemary, are you playing hard to get because deep down you don't want a divorce?"

She looked at him as if he had lost his mind, her grip tightening on the shoe horn.

"100 grand a night, and you're passing up the chance to cash in. If that's not reluctance to divorce, what is? Or do you think you can save up 30 million with your meager salary in this lifetime to pay me back?"

His ability to twist reality was truly breathtaking. Rosemary felt like her lungs were about to burst from frustration. It was a wonder how a fully grown man could be so infuriating.

"Victoria was wise to dump you. I can't stand you for two days, let alone two years. No wonder you're reduced to chasing after her like a whipped puppy, and you still can't win her back."

As the words left her mouth, her arm was seized. He used about 60 percent strength, causing her hand to ache sharply. Rosemary gasped for air.

Maxwell's lips curled into a mocking smile, his eyes cold and detached, "Too bad you've endured three years with this 'whipped puppy' and now you're stuck with me."

"I endured three years because I mistook a pitcher plant for a red rose," Rosemary sneered, her words sharp as knives, aiming straight for his heart.

She spun around and yanked a bank card from her wallet, shoving it into his pocket with zero chill, "Here's 600 grand, payback for now. As for divorce, I've had an epiphany. I haven't met a guy who's made me desperate to ditch this marriage, so that piece of paper means squat to me. If by chance I stumble upon someone who makes me head over heels, madly in love, you bet I'll make you a cuckold."

Maxwell's gaze turned as frosty as if he'd been iced, "Say that again."

Rosemary scoffed with disdain, "What, are you a masochist or something? Dragging yourself here in the middle of the night for a verbal beatdown, and then asking for an encore?"

She went to slam the door shut, but Maxwell was quicker, stopping her in her tracks, "Don't you wanna know who leaked that audio to the media back in the day?"

Rosemary's expression flipped in an instant, "You know it?"

It was the second time he'd brought it up. Even though it was all water under the bridge, back then, the rumors had really done a number on her. She was dying to find out who had stabbed her in the back!