13
Fraser’s face tumed deathly pale. “You… Mirabel, don’t say things like that just to upset me…”
‘stace
“What? You don’t believe me?” Mirabel’s voice was Icy. “Your uncle is successful, good–looking, and most importantly–clean. Why wouldn’t I be interested in him?”
She smirked and reached for Aston’s tie
For the first time, Aston’s perpetually cold and composed expression cracked. Half angry, half flustered, he stumbled back several steps.
Mirabel walked toward him slowly, grabbing his belt this time.
She wore a smile on her face, but inside, she was seething with hatred toward Aston. If it weren’t for him, Fraser might never have found her. Her peaceful life wouldn’t have been shattered.
Since he had caused her so much trouble, she figured it was only fair to give him a “gift” in return.
Mirabel tilted her head and kissed his Adam’s apple. “Uncle, what cologne are you wearing? It smells so good.”
Aston, who had never been this close to a woman, let alone kissed, was utterly stunned. He could have never imagined being forcibly kissed–twice–by his nephew’s ex–wife.
He shoved her away abruptly. “You!”
Hut for all his bluster, he couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Overwhelmed and furious, he turned and stored out, slamming the door behind him. Mirabel turned to Fraser with a smile. “Do you need me to keep proving it?”
Fraser collapsed to the floor, his face ashen. He knew Mirabel too well. Just looking into her eyes, he could tell exactly what she was thinking-
He understood she was doing this deliberately to hurt him and make him give up. But seeing her kiss someone else tore him apart. The pain was suffocating.
For the first time, Fraser realized how much it must have hurt Mirabel when she discovered his infidelity, when she saw those vile videos of him and Darlena. Compared to her pain, his now seemed a pale shadow.
He closed his eyes as tears slid down his face. He had no one to blame but himself for destroying everything they had.
The next day, Mirabel went back to Aston’s headquarters for her studies.
As she stood by the elevator, Aston appeared.
The moment he saw her, his face tumed a mixture of green, white, and red. After a few seconds, he stiffened and stalked toward the stairs instead. Twenty minutes later, Aston’s assistant arrived on the top floor, gasping for breath. Internally, he cursed his boss for losing his mind–why walk twenty–plus flights of stairs when the elevator was right there?
That evening, Mirabel retumed to the villa to find the house filled with the aroma of food
She assumed Keely was cooking, but to her surprise, Fraser walked out of the kitchen wearing an apron, carrying a plate of dishes.
“You’re back just in time. Dinner’s ready–wash your hands and come eat,” he said.
For a moment, Mirabel was dazed by the sight
It reminded her of the countless evenings over the past three years. No matter how busy Fraser was, he always came home before her to cook. When she walked through the door, she would be greeted by the scent of food and his warm embrace.
Back then, that had been her definition of happiness.
But after everything that had happened, those moments were nothing more than distant memories.
Mirabel picked up the plate of food and dumped it into the trash. “I made myself clear yesterday. Stop doing these pointless things.”
Fraser’s face went pale, his smile freezing in place. After a moment, he forced another smile. “These dishes must not suit your taste. I’ll make something else.”
Mirabel’s patience was wearing thin. Her tone turned cold “Fraser, do I need to repeat what I said yesterday?”
“You can say it as many times as you like,” he replied calmly, carrying the empty plate back into the kitchen. “But I won’t listen. I won’t leave you, and I won’t give up. From today on, I’ll stay here to take care of you.”
Until Mirabel forgave him–or until he died.
