Chapter 118
Camila made every cut with cautious precision, striving for perfection. She folded the fabric neatly, then began to sew with the machine, her hands nimbly weaving through the threads, attending to every detail just right.
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Time quietly slipped by as she immersed herself fully in her creative work. Suddenly, her cellphone vibrated continuously on the table.
Camila set down the fabric she was holding and stood up to answer the phone. She saw the caller ID displayed was “Mr. Connor,” and her heart skipped a beat.
She glanced at the clock. It was already eleven at night, and there were work arrangements at this hour? Didn’t she need a break?
She frowned slightly in annoyance but still answered the call. “Hello, Mr. Connor.”
A deep voice came from the other end. “Haven’t gone to bed yet?”
Not yet,” Camila replied.
“When I’m not at the office, you need to report the day’s work to me,” Connor stated.
Camila paused, taken aback as she hadn’t anticipated this. “Sorry, I’ll remember that.”
“Good. Tomorrow, David will still bring breakfast to my place. After your run, send me your treadmill record,” Connor continued.
Camila took a deep breath. She thought she could skip running for a day, but it seemed there was no escape. “Alright.”
“Get some sleep, good night,” Connor instructed.
“Good night, Mr. Connor.”
Connor grunted in acknowledgment and hung up.
Camila sighed. She returned to her sewing machine and continued to finish the edges of the shawl, adding embroidery.
When she was finally done, she inspected it, satisfied, and folded the shawl neatly and stretched lazily.
–
It was three in the moming time to sleep.
The next day, Camila woke up at her usual time and headed to Cedarhill Estate. After running and panting, she snapped a picture of her treadmill record and sent it to Connor.
He quickly replied with a simple. [Okay.]
A drizzle floated through the sky, the air slightly moist. Connor, dressed in a sleek black suit, stood by the window. After quickly replying to the message, he placed his phone in his suit pocket and walked out of the bedroom.
In the foyer, Emily was attentively spraying water on the lilies. She noticed her son descending the stairs and smiled. “Good morning. I see there’s no need to wake you up anymore.”
Connor grunted, his gaze searching the foyer for others. “Where are Grandpa and Dad?”
In the city.
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“They’re in the study room getting ready,” Emily said, setting down the spray bottle filled with clean water and carefully hands.
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She walked over to Connor, gently saying, “Let’s have breakfast in the dining room first. We’ll leave shortly after.”
After breakfast, Ray and Peter came out of the study room. “Let’s go,” Ray said.
The group walked out of the villa, bodyguards approaching them with black umbrellas. The convoy slowly drove out of the driveway. through the damp streets, and finally stopped at the cemetery gate.
With the bodyguards holding umbrellas and Connor carrying lilies, they walked towards the cemetery.
Raindrops gently pattered the ground, creating a soft sound. Emily placed fruits and desserts in front of the tombstone, and Ray took the flowers from Connor’s hands, gently setting them by the grave.
With Peter’s help, Ray kneeled, the rain soaking his knees. He gazed at the name engraved on the tombstone, a wave of bitterness surging through him. He took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the rain off the tombstone.
“Ruby…”
“Such hypocrisy!” An elderly lady, holding a bunch of lilies, spoke with a tint of disdain and dissatisfaction.
Peter and Connor turned simultaneously.
Aunt