Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

Chapter 72

The patch of skin that was being rubbed soon flushed a large red, and Rosemary, in her deep sleep, felt the pain and slightly opened her eyes to glance at the person before her. Then, with a frown, she shuffled back a bit and muttered unhappily, "Maxwell, don't touch me."

With those words, the room fell into a deadly silence, leaving only the heavy breathing of the two.

If Maxwell had been holding back his emotions just now, at this moment he was absolutely livid!

Every line of his body radiated an aggressive vibe as he scooped her back in and leaned over her, "So you won't let me touch you, but Martin can? Rosemary, should I call you clever for knowing how to stir up a man's desire to conquer, or should I call you foolish? Out of all the guys in Greenwood, you had to choose my brother?"

"Or do you think a woman would be more important to me than a brother?"

Rosemary didn't reply; her whole body was pinned beneath him in a restraining grip, yet without any response — as if she had fallen asleep again.

Maxwell's gaze fell on her rosy cheeks; with his Adam's apple bobbed, he irritably undid the top three buttons of his shirt.

"Knock, knock."

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, accompanied by a man's deep voice: "Rosemary, are you there?"

It was Martin!

Maxwell's face darkened to the extreme. If the woman before him had been lucid, he might have made her cry!

After waiting a few minutes, he went to answer the door. The person outside seemed quite anxious.

When Maxwell opened the door, Martin was still in the knocking pose. Seeing who it was, he paused, "Maxwell?"

He noticed the violently torn open collar on Maxwell's shirt, realizing he might have interrupted something.

"Since you're here, I assume Rosemary is alright, so we won't disturb you anymore."

He didn't come alone; he was accompanied by a doctor.

Maxwell stepped aside, "Come in. She's sick, running a high fever. Please have the doctor prescribe some medicine."

Martin didn't decline, as he had meant to bring the doctor to check on Rosemary after hearing something was off in her voice over the phone.

To avoid any appearance of impropriety, he didn't follow the doctor into Rosemary's bedroom but stayed with Maxwell in the living room.

During that time, Maxwell offered him a cigarette, and the two stepped by the window, "She called you to say she was sick?"

Martin shook his head, "No, I just called to ask her to do me a favor and noticed it in her voice."

Maxwell stared at him for a few seconds, then let out a casual laugh; his features were obscured by the smoke, "What, you're that concerned about her? Regret not helping her back then?"

Martin not only knew she was ill but also knew she had moved here from Meadowlark Retreat. The fact that he came over with a doctor just because her voice sounded off seemed like he had an

ulterior motive.

To this, Martin candidly replied, "Can't say I regret it, but I do feel a bit sorry. The sum she borrowed back then wasn't small; I just didn't expect her to be in such a hurry."

And he certainly didn't expect that she would turn to Maxwell after she didn’t get a clear answer from him.

"So you're planning to woo her again? To make up for this regret in your heart?"

Martin frowned slightly, not sure if Maxwell was joking or serious.

He lightly curled his lips, "Didn't know you were the overthinking type."

In the room, Rosemary gradually came to her consciousness. She lay quietly, waiting for the doctor to give her the injection. The bedroom door wasn't closed, and she heard the conversation outside.

She wasn't interested in their topic; that was all in the past. This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

The dizziness and pain brought on by her cold had sapped much of her energy, and soon she was drowsy again; she barely noticed the slight sensation as the needle entered her vein.

Just as Rosemary was about to drift off again, Martin's voice rang out, "The audio from back then, did you release it?"

That question instantly wiped away Rosemary's sleepiness.

The audio? She forced herself to wake up; recalling how much impact the audio leak had made on her life, she felt her heart aching.

The mental blow and the cyber-bullying she faced could almost drive a person to death; she had to take medication for a long time to control her emotions.

But she had always thought it was Martin who had leaked the audio, so she didn't investigate the cause.

By the window, Maxwell's tone was unhurried, "Who told you that?"

"No one. I did some digging afterward but didn't find anything useful. Just thought of it today, so I'm asking you since you were there at the time."

The day Rosemary approached him, he was discussing business with Maxwell; he thought she needed help, so he let Maxwell rest behind the screen in the lounge area.

Time ticked by without an answer from Maxwell, which to Rosemary, was as good as an admission.

She bit her lip hard. How could Maxwell stoop to such dirty tricks and leak the audio to the media. He really was a dog!

The medication flowing into her body took effect, and a heavy drowsiness swept over her. Rosemary closed her eyes, thinking that if she could get up, she would beat this jerk until he was picking his teeth off the floor!

What a piece of trash!

Rosemary's condition improved, and when she woke up, it was the next day.

The day was bright, and she reached up to touch her forehead. The fever had gone, and her head no longer ached, though her body still felt weak.

She stared at the ceiling, her mind wandering aimlessly for a bit before settling on the conversation between Maxwell and Martin from last night.

Footsteps sounded in the living room; they were approaching from afar until they stopped at the bedroom door.

The intense feeling of being watched made Rosemary turn her head, only yo meet the man's eyes.

At that moment, Maxwell was looking at her emotionlessly; his eyes were tired from lack of sleep, and there was a light stubble on his chin.

He was still wearing yesterday's clothes, the shirt and trousers all wrinkled.

Rosemary was taken aback; she hadn't expected Maxwell to still be here.

Maxwell, however, frowned and said in a hoarse voice, "Get up if you're awake. Don't lie there like you're about to kick the bucket; no one's here to play undertaker for you."

He knew these words might be a tough pill to swallow, but there's no malice behind them – it's more like a tsundere throwing a temper tantrum.

But Rosemary just kept staring at him, completely unfazed.

Gotta admit, Maxwell's got a face that could make a girl's heart race – drop-dead gorgeous, with an air of effortless grace and class. His nasty attitude is a shame though.

As he saw her lying there, not budging an inch, the guy's face turned a shade darker. He strode over, "What's the deal, you think you're some kind of princess that needs to be waited on hand and foot? After taking care of you all night, don't you think a little 'thank you' is in order?"

He bent down, looking like he's about to scoop her up, but before his hands can even graze her waist, a slap landed fiercely across his face.