Chapter 62

Chapter 62

Rhea stared at the door that had been slammed shut so forcefully, and finally, she could no longer hold back—covering her mouth, she began to cry silently. Her daughter, pregnant and just back from the hospital, had suffered such terrible grievances, yet that husband in name only hadn't offered a single word of comfort before turning around to find another woman.

The door opened gently, and Sylvia emerged, wrapping her arms around Rhea's trembling shoulders from behind.

"Mom, don't cry." She rested her chin in the hollow of Rhea's neck, her voice soft yet carrying a calming strength. "Just bear with it a little longer. It won't be much longer now. Once the baby is born, all of this will be over."

Rhea grasped Sylvia's hand reflexively, nodding through her tears.

Yes, it wouldn't be long now. Her Sylvia would soon be free from this sea of suffering.

After this incident, Queenie seemed like a tiger with its teeth pulled—completely subdued.

She went about her work each day with downcast eyes and a submissive demeanor, no longer daring to utter a single word of gossip, and the entire villa became considerably more peaceful.

Sylvia was content with the tranquility, focusing on nurturing her pregnancy while remotely assisting Edward with data analysis for the company's new projects.

The talent and passion that had once been worn away by marriage were gradually rekindled through her work.

In her leisure time, she would visit Amelia's home, keeping her company over tea and books, or discussing the latest academic journals. That long-absent peace and intellectual nourishment allowed her entire being to settle, adding a touch of composure and clarity to her expression.

One afternoon, Sylvia was in Amelia's study as usual, helping to organize literature.

Sunlight streamed through the glass windows, spilling across the yellowed Lumarian pages, the air thick with the scent of ink.

She was concentrating on indexing a manuscript when a knock sounded at the study door.

"Come in." Amelia didn't look up.

The door swung open, and a tall, upright figure entered.

Sylvia glanced up instinctively at the sound, and upon recognizing the visitor, the light in her eyes quickly dimmed, returning to a placid stillness.

Lucas wore a deep gray bespoke suit today, his expression cold and severe, with a trace of barely perceptible agitation in his brow.

Clearly, he had come about the Powell Family project that had been halted.

Sylvia's movements didn't pause for a moment. She placed the last of the organized materials neatly on the bookshelf, then picked up her coat and belongings, nodding slightly to Amelia. "Ms. Roosevelt, I'll step out now."

With that, she turned and walked past Lucas without so much as a sideways glance, her calm demeanor suggesting he was merely an inconvenient piece of furniture, unworthy of any emotional response.

Lucas stood frozen in place, watching her resolute departure, his clenched fists trembling slightly at his sides.

He wanted to call out to stop her, but his throat felt blocked, unable to produce a single word.

The study door closed softly, severing two worlds.

Only then did Amelia methodically set down her pen, remove her reading glasses, and pick up her teacup, gently blowing on the leaves floating on the surface, yet never taking a sip.

She remained silent, leaving Lucas to stew, the air in the study growing so oppressive it felt almost solid.

Lucas finally lost his composure and broke the silence first. "Ms. Roosevelt, regarding the Amber District project..."

"No rush." Amelia cut him off coolly, finally raising her eyes. Those scholarly, clear eyes now held undisguised disappointment and scrutiny. "Lucas, I heard that Sylvia had complications with her pregnancy some time ago and was hospitalized."

Lucas hadn't expected her to bring this up. His expression shifted slightly as he replied in a low voice, "It was a servant at home who didn't know better. It's been handled."

"Is that so?" Amelia let out a cold, ambiguous laugh. She set down her teacup, her voice not loud but cutting to the heart. "A man who can't even protect his own wife and unborn child, who comfortably enjoys another woman's affection, how can anyone trust his character enough to entrust him with a project worth hundreds of millions? The Powell Family does not have a tradition of partnering with those who are unfaithful in their relationships."

Lucas was left speechless by Amelia's words, his Adam's apple bobbing as he finally managed a subdued apology, "Ms. Roosevelt, I will handle it properly."

His tone sounded like a concession, but it lacked genuine remorse, coming across more as perfunctory.

Amelia looked at him, the disappointment in her eyes deepening.

She sighed softly and counseled him earnestly, "Lucas, the Powell Family project is merely a catalyst. What truly matters is your sense of responsibility toward your family. Marriage is not a game, nor is it a tool for venting your private desires. Sylvia is a good person. She deserves better treatment. Don't wait until you've truly lost her to feel regret."

Lucas pressed his thin lips together, offering no further comment, only responding quietly, "I understand."

Seeing this, Amelia said no more.

Some truths, no matter how many times others repeated them, couldnot compare to personal experience.

After Lucas left, the study returned to silence once more.

Amelia gazed at the closed door and heaved a long sigh, the weariness in her eyes growing heavier.

Sylvia waited outside the study for a while, estimating that Lucas had gone far enough, before pushing the door open with a cup of warm pu-erh tea in her hands.

The fragrant steam wafted upward, dispelling the lingering stuffiness in the study.

"Ms. Roosevelt, your tea." Her voice was gentle, carrying just the right amount of respectful deference.

Amelia accepted the teacup, her gaze falling on Sylvia's calm face. The sharpness in her eyes receded somewhat, replaced by an elder's affection and heartache.

"Walk with me for a bit. Sitting all the time, these old bones need some movement too."

Sylvia didn't refuse. The two walked side by side out of the office, following a campus path covered in fallen leaves.

The breeze carried a slight chill, ruffling the hems of their clothes.

"Lucas is a stubborn boy, but his nature isn't bad." Amelia spoke first, her voice betraying no emotion, as if talking to herself while also offering Sylvia an olive branch. "He's just been blinded temporarily and can't see clearly for now."

Sylvia didn't respond, only nodding. She knew Amelia was trying to ease the relationship between her and Lucas, but some rifts, once formed, could never be mended.

Amelia glanced at her sideways, seeing her composed expression, and understood even more clearly.

She stopped walking, turned around, and looked at Sylvia's prominently swollen abdomen, her tone growing more serious. "Sylvia, you're a talented young woman. You shouldn't be trapped by these romantic entanglements. Tell me, what are your plans moving forward?"

Sylvia gently stroked her belly, her gaze becoming firm and distant. She raised her head, meeting her mentor's wise eyes directly, speaking each word clearly and forcefully. "Ms. Roosevelt, I've already decided. Once the baby is born, I will divorce Lucas. I won't repeat past mistakes. I will live for myself and for my child."