Remarriage Failed Again Today

For some reason, Quentin Holland gave him an incredibly dangerous feeling. Extremely, overwhelmingly dangerous—to the point that it sparked a sense of panic within him.

He didn’t know why he felt this way, but the feeling was incredibly intense.

It was so intense it felt as if it would swallow his heart whole. This was the first time in his life Leona Grant had ever experienced such a sensation.

It inevitably reminded him of the dream he’d had while he was unconscious.

The most vivid part of the dream was the question of why he had gotten Vivian Yates pregnant and made her believe the child was his.

And why he had locked Annabelle Linton in the basement, supposedly to protect her.

And then, in an effort to protect himself, he had ended up getting her killed.

All these events, one after another, felt like an endless, tangled net closing in around him, leaving him dizzy and disoriented.

He felt as if he were trapped in a giant vortex, able to do nothing but drift along with the current, utterly powerless to resist.

"Are you busy?"

When he remained silent, Annabelle Linton’s questioning voice came from the other end of the line.

Hearing Annabelle Linton’s voice, Leona Grant finally snapped back to his senses. He offered an apologetic laugh. "No, I was just looking over some documents."

’Oh, so he’s still working.’

Hearing this, Annabelle Linton said quickly, "Well, you should get back to work then. Just remember not to stay up too late. And your stomach isn’t great, so make sure you eat properly, okay?"

"I know."

The feeling of having someone worry about him was incredibly warm, and Leona Grant felt much of the gloom in his heart lift.

He smiled and said, "You too. You’re all by yourself over there, so remember to take good care of yourself, you hear? And come back as soon as you can. I really miss you."

Annabelle Linton’s lips curved into a smile. "I know," she said, a hint of amused exasperation in her voice. "I’ll only be delayed for two or three days at most. You make it sound like I’m never coming back."

Hearing this, the color drained from Leona Grant’s face. "Is that really something you should be joking about?"

’But it’s true, though.’

’It’s only going to be a few days. He’s acting like I’m going off to die or something.’

Annabelle Linton was taken aback by his reaction, but then she let out a small, helpless laugh. "Alright, I get it. My mistake."

Only after hearing her say that did the tension in Leona Grant’s expression finally ease. "That’s more like it. Okay, you should get some rest."

"You too."

The line went quiet, but neither of them hung up.

Annabelle Linton waited for a moment. Seeing that he wasn’t going to hang up, she was just about to end the call when his voice came through again. "Annabelle Linton, I love you."

Annabelle Linton froze for a second, then a smile she couldn’t suppress touched her lips. "Mm."

"Sleep well. Take care of yourself."

"Mm."

"Make time to call me again tomorrow, just like this."

"Mm."

"I’ll be waiting for you."

"Mm."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

...

After hanging up, Leona Grant couldn’t help but chuckle to himself.

’She has to be the most taciturn woman he’d ever met. All she ever says is "mm".’

’But that’s fine, too. He likes her reserved nature.’

’Because with people like her, very few can ever find a way into their hearts. And he just so happens to be the most important person in her life.’

KNOCK KNOCK—

Leona Grant had just hung up the phone when a knock came from the door.

He looked up to see Nathaniel Locke walk in, holding two files.

The moment Leona Grant saw him, the lingering traces of his smile vanished. His voice grew heavy as he asked, "What did you find out?"

"Heh."

Nathaniel Locke coolly tossed the files onto the desk. He leaned casually against its edge, a strange smirk playing on his lips. "You were right," he said languidly. "Real genius, coming up with a plan like switching identities."