She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 112

Hilda carried Annie downstairs.

At the elevator, a hand pressed the button for her.

Hilda looked up and saw Luther.

Luther reached for Annie. At first, the little girl resisted and Hilda refused to let go, but Luther forcefully took her into his arms, his voice dropping low. "Whatever happened, I'm taking you two home."

The overhead lights in the elevator were blindingly bright.

Hilda looked up at him.

The disappointment, sorrow, and humiliation in her eyes were impossible to hide.

How could she not be heartbroken?

How could she not be disappointed?

They had lived together for so long.

Every night, Annie used to hug her little pillow and say goodnight to her dad. Every morning, she would run over in her blanket to give him a kiss. But in an instant, Annie was about to lose all of that, and the man responsible for it was standing there acting perfectly unfazed.

Hilda's voice was ice-cold. "Luther, don't make promises you can't keep."

It was a warning.

A warning for him not to make any more empty promises to their child.

She didn't refuse his offer for a ride.

She simply didn't have the energy to fight him.

She was exhausted now, more drained these past few days than ever before. She didn't know if it was from work or the sheer emotional toll of Luther's scandals, but her chest felt constantly tight, accompanied by a faint, persistent nausea. Once things settled down, she needed to see a doctor.

Annie wasn't feeling well.

She wasn't as affectionate with her dad as usual.

She stayed completely silent, eyes wide open just like her mother, all the way down to the parking garage.

Luther drove Hilda's car.

A black BMW.

It was probably a recent purchase of hers.

Luther fastened his seatbelt and reached out to adjust the rearview mirror, his gaze landing on the mother and daughter in the backseat. His emotions were tangled, but he didn't regret it, nor was he second-guessing himself. Ever since Jolie claimed she would die without him, he had weighed his options and decided to spend the rest of his life with her.

As for Hilda and Annie.

He intended to make proper arrangements.

Hilda didn't have a career, and Annie was still young; he would compensate them generously, ensuring they never had to worry about money.

The car started and pulled onto the road.

The woman stood in a black coat, her skin pale and luminous, her expression haggard but calm.

She only needed a second to guess what he wanted to say. Looking down, she smiled faintly. "Alright."

The two walked upstairs into the apartment one after the other.

It was a spacious space, about thirteen hundred square feet.

Decorated in a classic, warm aesthetic.

Cozy and inviting.

Two small milk bottles sat on the little dining table.

When Luther saw them, his eyes burned and he involuntarily tightened his hold on the little girl in his arms, an indescribable bitterness welling up inside him. Hilda, on the other hand, was perfectly calm. She changed her shoes and followed him into the nursery. She took off Annie's clothes and little shoes, tucked her under the covers, and checked her forehead, her face radiating a mother's gentle warmth.

A mother's strength is born of necessity—that wasn't just an empty saying.

Carefully tucking the blankets around her, Hilda stared at Annie's face, her voice dropping very low. "Didn't you have something to say? Let's talk outside."

Hilda was incredibly calm.

Eerily calm.

It made Luther wonder—had she already guessed what he was going to say, or did she truly just not care anymore?