Chapter 105: Mark

"My brother told me that when he was set up that year, the drugged drink he was given was from Mark... He didn't hold it against him, treating it as a respectful gesture of their old friendship," Isabella said, her voice quivering with emotion. "But I know that Mark must have been forced into it, he is actually... truly kind-hearted. I'm also aware that my brother suffered a lot because of that incident, but I still worry about Mark and what he must be going through now."

So that was the situation.

Sophia had an epiphany, filled with emotion as she sat there gently stroking Isabella's hair.

Isabella was just too kind-hearted. Despite being hurt by the one who once harmed her dearest brother, her gratitude remained because of the help she had been given.

Sophia saw it clearly; this had become a thorn in Isabella's heart, one that couldn't be ignored.

After consoling Isabella with comforting few words, Sophia called Laura to keep Isabella company and went to find Henry.

She laid out the entire situation to Henry and looked at him expectantly, hoping for a response.

Henry also felt conflicted; he'd avoided causing problems for Mark out of respect for being framed, and now he was being asked to help him.

"Don't you want to make Isabella happier?" Sophia pressed.

These words finally shook Henry's resolve.

The streets were still filthy with sewage, and the rundown restaurant still endured.

Mark, in the back kitchen, was dressed in clothes smeared with grease, chopping vegetables, cooking, stir-frying... He was single-handedly doing the work ordinarily meant for two or three chefs, and from time to time, he even found moments to help his wife, who was busy greeting guests and clearing dishes.

Taking advantage of a lull in customers, he again emerged from the kitchen to help his wife with the dishes.

"You should rest when you get the chance," she said.

Miranda looked to wipe the sweat from her husband's brow, but stopped, considering her own grease-stained hands.

"How can I?" Mark said with a bitter smile. "I don't want to overburden you. You've suffered too much because of me. Before, you were living the comfortable life of a wealthy young lady, and after marrying me, you hardly enjoyed a few years of comfort before we were both thrown out by the Miller family. I've made things so difficult for you."

"Just being with you makes me very happy," Miranda replied, her heart heavy but a sweet smile on her face.

She knew Mark was suffering more than she was. His pain far greater.

It was a moment's lapse all those years ago, to have handed that drink over to his best friend...

After all these years, she still hears her husband, sighing, tossing and turning in bed late at night. His heart heavy with his burdens.

It wasn't until the last time they encountered Henry that Mark seemed a bit relieved, knowing at least that Henry hadn't come to harm him.

And thanks to Henry, no one on the street extorted protection fees now. Life had become much easier than before for them.

This only deepened Mark's sense of guilt.

As the couple conversed, a sudden sound of brakes came from outside the store. Both looked up; Mark with a hint of shame, and Miranda instantly standing up.

"Dad, Kenneth, what brings you here again?"

"Here to eat, what else? What's with that attitude upon seeing family?!" Miranda's father expressed his dissatisfaction, and her brother gave her a stern look before turning to Mark.

"You, stop doing the dishes, go prepare something to eat. The usual will do: sandwiches, fried chicken, beef, and bring out a case of your finest liquor. We've already finished what we took last time."

Mark slowly got up without saying a word and headed towards the kitchen.

Miranda, however, blocked him with an arm and, her brows furrowed and glaring eyes, scolded the two men. "Have you no shame? You want to eat, fine, but you must pay for it! Even cost price will do! You come here at least seven or eight times a month, each meal worth over a hundred dollars, and you haven't paid a cent towards any of it. Do you really think our money grows on trees?"

Kenneth became angry as well. "Asking for money from family for a meal? If you ask, do you think Mark would dare to demand it?"

Miranda clenched her teeth and took hold of her husband's hand. "Never mind them, just let them sit there!"

"That doesn't sound right," Mark said with a strained smile. "I should still play the host, after all."

"How many times has this happened? They're eating our profits and more!" Miranda exclaimed angrily.

"That's because you earn too little," her father remarked nonchalantly from his seat.

"Yeah," added Kenneth. "Dad and I really do put in a lot of effort, you see. Look at this good-for-nothing; he can't even afford to treat us to a meal. What good is he? Useless"

"You're still young. While you're at it, why not divorce him? We've discussed this before. That gentleman hasn't stopped thinking about you; he doesn't care that you've been married before. He came to our family expressly to say that if you agree, he'll marry you right away. His parents are in business; they have assets worth at least tens of millions of dollars. Staying with Mark, in this rundown restaurant, how much can you earn in a year?"

Miranda's anger flared up again. "Have you taken his money again? Last time it was a hundred thousand dollars; how much is it this time?"

"Three hundred thousand dollars," Kenneth replied proudly. "That's just the initial gift. If you marry into their family, they'll give us half a million dollars! Even if you don't care about yourself, think about dad."

With a light cough, Miranda's father chimed in, "Yeah, Miranda, you don't know, but I've been having terrible headaches lately. I went to the hospital, and the doctor says it looks a lot like a cerebral thrombosis. Can't treat this condition without some money."