He Waited She Wilted (Ottilie and Yorath) novel Chapter 111

Once an investigation started, the domino effect would be catastrophic.

Following the breadcrumbs would expose absolutely everything.

By then, countless people would be implicated.

At a formal Fordham family gathering, whoever dared to disrupt family unity and point a blade at their own people...

Jevon Crawford shuddered just thinking about the terrifying consequences.

A true femme fatale!

Yorath Fordham said, "She's been with me for five years. I can discard her if I want to, but she is not going to get hurt on my turf."

Jevon finally understood.

When Yorath had originally sent Ottilie Sewell to St. Dymphna's Psychiatric Facility, he chose a property owned by his own family.

Ottilie wouldn't suffer any real harm in there.

But now, she had been wronged.

His authority was being challenged.

If he didn't severely punish the culprits, how would he ever control his subordinates in the future?

"I'll deploy people to investigate immediately."

That evening.

When Ottilie returned home, Yorath was already there.

Dinner was fully prepared.

"Aren't you busy, Yorath?"

As long as she was home, he would always be there.

He met her at the door, taking the heavy black bag off her shoulder.

It was surprisingly weighty.

He peeked inside and saw a cheap notebook, the kind that cost barely fifty cents.

And a single, bottom-of-the-barrel ballpoint pen.

Yorath hung the bag on the refrigerator's magnetic clip.

"Why are you later than yesterday?"

Ottilie had run into Lachlan Schmidt at the plaza and agreed to attend a dinner with him tomorrow.

That was what had delayed her.

"Traffic was bad today."

She kept her head down while changing her shoes, avoiding his gaze entirely.

After eating, Ottilie wiped the table spotless.

She laid out her newly bought notebook on the surface.

"Yorath, how much did you spend on groceries today? From now on, let's keep a ledger. We'll split everything 50/50. Once I have money, I'll pay you back."

Truth be told, Ottilie didn't even want to eat the meals he cooked.

Yet here she was, trying to talk about feelings.

Trying to tell him that she didn't love him.

She felt as humiliated as if she had been publicly slapped across the face.

For the first time, she truly understood how venomous it felt to realize her feelings were entirely one-sided.

Yorath emerged from the bathroom wearing a black silk robe.

The front hung open, leaving his sculpted abs on full display.

Ottilie stared at him, unmoving.

He walked up to her and tossed a gift box onto the table.

"Who gave you this? The bathroom is too damp; you shouldn't leave expensive things in there."

The box was wrapped in premium silk.

Yorath had an eye for quality.

It was the outfit Lachlan had given her.

She had hidden it in the deepest corner of her toiletry cabinet.

And he had found it.

Ottilie remained silent.

His long, elegant fingers flicked at the bow as he spoke with a careless drawl. "Cedarwood scent. It's from Lachlan Schmidt."