The Love I Begged For Was Never Real novel Chapter 197

Sitting beneath the umbrella, Nora listened to his fading footsteps until they were completely swallowed by the sound of the rain.

His silhouette was just as it had been years ago—resolute and hurried as he walked away, never stopping for her even once.

Under the shadow of the black canopy, Nora slowly closed her eyes. Two silent tears slipped down her freezing cheeks and disappeared into her collar.

The handle still carried the lingering warmth of his grip. Yet, in the bitter cold of the rain, that warmth was fleeting, vanishing almost instantly.

She slowly stood up, her legs numb from sitting on the hard concrete for so long.

The rain was pouring relentlessly.

Stumbling slightly, Nora made her way out of the children's home. Icy droplets splashed from the edge of the umbrella onto her hem, sending shivers through her body.

She hadn't even cleared the perimeter walls when a blurry figure emerged through the downpour just a few steps away.

Liam York hurried over, holding a large umbrella.

"Mrs. Hayes."

Liam respectfully dipped his head, his gaze sweeping over Nora's drenched hair without asking a single question about why she was there.

"Mr. Hayes instructed me to wait for you. The rain is too heavy, and the roads are slick. He's concerned for your safety and told me to make sure you get back to the estate safely."

Nora lowered her gaze.

She looked at the umbrella Liam was holding, then at the one in her own hand that belonged to Gideon.

Mr. Hayes instructed.

Just moments ago, he had been coldly warning her not to bully Giselle, only to turn right around and habitually leave his assistant to manage her schedule.

He was probably just terrified she would linger and dig up some ancient history, threatening the spotless reputation of his precious socialite sister.

She stared blankly at the toes of her soaked shoes.

By the time she returned to Lawrence Atelier, the sky was completely dark.

The office space was completely deserted.

Sloane Miller and the other assistants had clocked out on time today. Their workstations were wiped spotless, as if the tragedy that had unfolded here never even happened.

Nora peeled off her soaking-wet clothes, changed into something dry, and brewed herself a hot coffee before sitting alone at her desk.

Janie's workstation was devastatingly empty. That desk, which had always been impeccably organized, didn't even have a single sticky note left on it now.

Nora pulled a few core contract files from her handbag, arranging them neatly on her desk. Then, she reached out, gripping the edges of a black velvet jewelry box, and slowly opened it.

Under the harsh overhead lights, the massive, top-tier pink diamond refracted a brilliant, unapologetically extravagant glow.

The project had to move forward.

Even though Janie had been forced out, and the atelier's reputation had tanked to rock bottom, the Lawrence contract still hung heavily over everyone's heads. She had to deliver this project; it was her very last shred of dignity in this industry.