Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

The scent of a woman invaded Maxwell's senses. He stiffened, furrowing his brows as he pushed the person away, "Keep it classy, we're in public."

Weren't it he who started the kiss? If it weren't for ticking off Victoria, no way Rosemary would kiss him!

Rosemary rolled her eyes, "Hypocrite."

Victoria heard that insult. She thought Maxwell would get angry. After all, it seemed to her that Rosemary was pushing his buttons with everything she did, but. This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

No, Maxwell didn't get angry. Instead, with a stern face, he said, "After all, you're Mrs. Templeton. Don't go around acting like some shrew."

Rosemary pretended not to hear that.

Pearl, feeling under the weather and low on energy, had made her rounds and headed upstairs to rest. Although she left, the banquet didn't wind down. Today's crowd was here for the Templeton family, specifically for Maxwell, now in power.

Not wanting to parade around hand-in-hand with him, Rosemary took her glass and sat down on a couch in the rest area.

Others were there too, and they got up to greet her, "Mrs. Templeton, you look stunning tonight!"

She nodded in acknowledgment, fully aware they were only praising Mrs. Templeton, not Rosemary herself.

"Mrs. Templeton, are you an art restorer? I've got some family heirlooms at home that have seen better days. Would you mind taking a look?" The person asking likely didn't have any real treasures;

it was just a ploy to ingratiate themselves with Rosemary, thereby getting closer to Maxwell.

After all, her intimate moment with Mr. Templeton was witnessed by everyone!

Rosemary didn't decline the offer to make money, "I only know the basics. I can't guarantee a perfect repair."

No matter how skilled she was, she wasn't a magician. Something utterly shattered couldn't be fixed.

The person nodded eagerly, seeing Rosemary's approachable attitude and lacking the haughtiness of a typical aristocratic lady, and thought about befriending her.

Pearl's birthday banquet was held at home. Naturally, those who received an invitation were not of ordinary status.

"Mrs. Templeton, you shouldn't have let it go just now. It's obvious that woman was trying to pin something on someone else. Why else would it be such a coincidence? You should've stood your ground and let everyone see her hypocritical nature."

Someone else chimed in, "She definitely coordinated her testimony with someone else during the phone call. Some people have no shame these days!"

Rosemary leaned into the sofa corner, feeling a bit tipsy. She really didn't want to talk, but the people next to her wouldn't stop yapping.

To shut them up, noncommittally responded with a "Hmm.”

Soon enough, they clammed up. Just when Rosemary thought she might catch a break for some peace and quiet, the two stood up abruptly, "Mr. Templeton."

Few could withstand Maxwell's presence, especially when he was stone-faced. Seeing his gaze fall on Rosemary, the two wisely scurried away.

Rosemary's already bad mood turned to outright annoyance at the sight of Maxwell, as if the words "I dislike you” were written all over her face, "What are you doing here again?"

The man had been around her more today than in the past year.

Maxwell's voice was deep, "If I didn't show up, how can I know that my mother's supposedly sensible and well-read daughter-in-law is so good at gossiping behind people's backs?"

Rosemary caught the barb in his words, "What you heard?"

Her words trailed off as her gaze swept the room. Not spotting Victoria, she got the picture, her expression dripping with sarcasm, "What? Is your sweetheart about to jump off a ledge because she got her feelings hurt? Is that why you're in such a hurry to come and defend her?"

Maxwell's face turned a shade of thunder, his thin lips pressed tightly, brewing with anger, "Rosemary, when did you become so bitter?"

"Bitter or not, what does it matter? We're getting divorced anyway. Instead of trying to correct your ex-wife's behavior here, you might want to keep an eye on your sweetheart. If she harms herself, it would shock the elders."

Rosemary just wanted to get rid of him quickly. If not for fear of Pearl overthinking, she would have left for her rented apartment long ago. Why endure suffering here?

Maxwell, seeing she wasn't giving him not a shred of goodness, and recalling the idle chatter from earlier, he emphasized, "The painting incident has nothing to do with Victoria."

Rosemary raised an eyebrow, "And how do you know that?"

Maxwell wasn't one for explanations, but after a few seconds of silence, he patiently said, "Tracy just said on the phone, it was her mistake."

Rosemary scoffed, "Maybe Victoria felt guilty, and Tracy just timed her confession to take the blame."

Anything's possible, after all, the timing of that call was too coincidental.

"She didn't."

The certainty in his tone.

It was clear his trust in Victoria was something else.

Rosemary couldn't identify the sour taste that flashed in her heart, watching the man she liked show deep affection and trust for another woman. Wouldn't it upset anyone?

She closed her eyes, not wanting to hear more, leaning her head against the sofa, "Got it, I'm tired."

The subtext was clear: Get away quickly!

Maxwell watched her for a long while, seeing her eyes truly shut as she leaned back on the sofa cushion, a wave of nameless anger surged within him, but Rosemary hadn't done anything outrageous, she simply didn't want to engage with him.

He suppressed his temper, speaking in a plain voice, "Go sleep upstairs, don't disgrace yourself here."

Rosemary had been waiting for just that. Without a moment's hesitation, she got up and bolted upstairs, moving so fast you'd think she had the wind at her heels.

Back in her room, she took a quick shower and then went straight to bed.

She had no idea when the birthday party ended, only that she woke up in the middle of the night feeling hot, something scorching pressed against her back, making her whole body uncomfortable. She wanted to struggle, but her arms and legs were pinned down, unable to move.

Fortunately, that feeling faded away fast. It must have been just a nightmare.

The next day, Rosemary was awakened by her alarm. She was alone in her room with the sheets next to her smooth and untouched, showing no signs of anyone else having slept there.

Maxwell didn't sleep here last night.

This realization momentarily stunned her, especially considering how he had flawlessly assumed the role of the Perfect Husband at the party, only to then avoid returning to their room to sleep.

It was as if men were masters of the Jekyll and Hyde act!

She got dressed and stepped out of her room, and just then, the door next door swung open, and Martin walked out.