Chapter 466 Bound by Love, Unstoppable as One 1
Sarah guessed who it was too.
The past, though fleeting as clouds, still left a bitter taste when recalled. Any passion between them had evaporated.
She pressed against Oliver's chest, refusing his advances.
Nestling into the crook of his neck, her voice came out husky yet soft. "I should go down and see her."
Oliver caressed her waist, then reluctantly released her.
After quickly freshening up, Sarah left the bedroom. Claire walked beside her, offering encouragement: "Don't worry about her, Mrs. Windsor! She's powerless now—just putting on a brave face. Mr. Windsor won't even see her!"
Sarah smiled faintly. "She didn't ask to see Oliver anyway."
Claire scratched her head. "That's true!"
In the downstairs foyer, Ellie stood with a small leather suitcase, dressed for departure.
Footsteps echoed from the second floor.
She looked up to see Sarah descending the stairs. Sarah's cheeks were flushed, beads of sweat visible at her hairline—any adult would recognize the signs of recent intimacy.
Ellie froze: Oliver was home.
But she quickly composed herself with a resigned smile.
She had only come to say goodbye and apologize to Sarah. What did it matter if Oliver was home?
She watched Sarah approach but remained standing.
"I'm truly leaving this time," Ellie said softly. "I won't be coming back. Thank you, Sarah, and I'm sorry for everything from before."
Her life had been saved by Sarah.
Sarah remained silent.
Without Sarah's word, Oliver wouldn't—couldn't—interfere with Ellie.
Ellie bowed deeply to Sarah. When she looked up, her eyes glistened with emotion. Realizing she wouldn't receive Sarah's forgiveness, she didn't dare ask for it. She picked up her suitcase and turned to leave.
Sarah hadn't offered forgiveness.
Watching Ellie's retreating figure, she asked quietly, "Where will you go?"
Ellie paused mid-step. "Marigoldia," she answered softly.
She was going to their agreed-upon place, never to return.
Meanwhile, Oliver would remain here, forever by the side of the woman he loved deeply. Ellie held back her tears and strode purposefully toward the sunlight.
She looked up at the sky.
She was finally free.
And this time, there would be no return.
After Ellie left, Sarah didn't go back upstairs. She sat alone in the garden greenhouse for a long time, thinking of many things—some good, but mostly painful memories.
Finally, she smiled with acceptance.
Summer flowers bloomed brilliantly. Oliver had been behind her the whole time, not wanting to disturb her. Seeing her smile, he approached slowly, embracing her from behind and whispering, "I'm sorry, Sarah."
Sarah settled into his embrace.
She had been deceived and hurt by him, even abandoned once. But now she was loved passionately, and had finally heard his long-awaited apology.
Once, that apology had meant everything to her. Now, it seemed less important somehow.
Sarah tilted her face up, kissing his sharp, handsome features. "I accept," she murmured.
The police station
In the same small visiting room, Azalea and Nicholas sat on opposite sides. Nicholas stared intently at Azalea's face. Her presence here was proof enough that she worked for Oliver.
"Why?" Nicholas's voice was hoarse. "Why did you do this?"
Azalea clutched an $80 million check in her pocket, holding it close like a treasure. She gazed at Nicholas with longing eyes and said softly, "Because I needed the money. Because I was terrified of poverty."
"Mr. Moore, you've never experienced true poverty."
"Growing wheat for three seasons a year, with a family income of barely over $10,000. When healthy, we managed on simple meals, scraping together tuition fees. But once someone gets a terminal illness, all you can do is wait for death."
"I couldn't let my mother die."
Nicholas's expression remained blank. "Oliver paid you?"
Azalea's lips trembled, but she didn't say a word. The truth was already obvious.
Nicholas didn't press further—there was no point. He asked Azalea just one question: "After all that time with me, did you never feel anything real?"
"No." Azalea answered quickly. "It was just business. I never had genuine feelings. Mr. Moore, true love is a luxury only the wealthy can afford. People like me, as insignificant as weeds, don't deserve real feelings. I never loved you—not once, not even for a moment."
With that, she stood up under his gaze and walked toward the door.
She still had the $80 million check, still clutched her package of valuable jewelry. But tears glistened in the corners of her eyes. How could she claim she'd never cared?
She was human; she had feelings too.
Yet even as she left, Azalea never revealed that she knew he would be alright.
Nor did she tell him she was pregnant with his child.
She simply vanished.
Because Azalea understood that she and Nicholas belonged to different worlds. The Azalea he liked was merely a character crafted by Oliver. The real Azalea was petty and common, unfit for high society.
Azalea faded into the distance.
Nicholas sat quietly, remembering how Azalea had curled against him, saying passionately, "I like you. I want to stay by your side."
He had believed her then. It was all a lie.
Nicholas smiled faintly, thinking, 'Azalea, you'd better never appear before me again in this lifetime.'
Azalea exited the police station. Zoey waited for her in the car.
As she got in, Zoey handed her a passport. "Miss Gray, once you leave, don't come back for a while."
Azalea hesitated, then took the passport.
Zoey instructed the driver to head straight to the airport. She watched Azalea pass through security. What she didn't anticipate was that Azalea would change her mind at the last minute and not leave the country.
Azalea went to Oceancrest City because Nicholas had once said it was his favorite place.
Zoey returned from the airport.
She stopped by the villa to report to Oliver and deliver some important documents.
Outside, the sun blazed mercilessly. Inside the study, it was cool and refreshing.
Oliver held an unlit cigarette between his long, elegant fingers. Zoey, thinking about her promised mansion, moved to light it for him, but Oliver lowered his eyes. "I don't smoke at home. Sarah doesn't allow it."
Zoey said, "You're certainly flaunting your marital bliss."
Oliver stared at her directly, then opened a drawer and took out a property deed. "Your mansion cost me over $300 million. I hope you enjoy it."
Zoey reached for it, inwardly delighted.
But she feigned surprise. "Mr. Windsor, you haven't even remarried yet!"
Oliver snorted softly. "I sleep with Sarah every night now. Does it really matter if we're officially remarried or not?"
Zoey nodded sagely. "You're right! When two people's feelings are genuine, that piece of paper doesn't really matter."
"Doesn't it?" Oliver questioned, though in truth, it mattered immensely to him.
The topic closed, he returned to reviewing documents.
Suddenly, his gaze froze on the page.