Chapter 241

This was the first time he had seen such a woman - cold-blooded and ruthless. Facing Marco, she was stingy even with an extra glance. She was aloof and proud; others felt defiled just by looking at her. She truly deserved to be the undisputed number one socialite.

If the Rossi family were still around, probably everyone would be scrambling to marry such a beauty.

David thought about Marco and clicked his tongue twice. This was going to be difficult.

Indeed it was difficult. Since getting in the car, the two hadn't exchanged a single word.

Elena turned her head away from Marco's side, gazing at the constantly retreating scenery. Though they were in the same car, there was already an invisible wall of air separating them.

They remained silent all the way to the hospital.

Because they had VIP access, they didn't need to wait and went straight to their seats.

Marco first accompanied Elena to treat the wound on her hand.

The wound had merely gotten some gravel and dust rubbed into it - it just needed to be rinsed with saline and bandaged.

But the saline on the wound was inevitably painful. The doctor was already being extremely careful, but it still made Elena's hand tremble from the pain.

At her reaction, Marco's intensely burning gaze immediately followed. Fortunately, the doctor was a battle-hardened department head - if it had been a young nurse, she probably would have been scared to tears.

"Alright, don't let the wound get wet for the next few days. When bathing, wrap it with plastic wrap and remove it promptly."

Elena thanked him. Her palm still throbbed with dense pain, but this pain wasn't much. She endured it and walked out.

Marco asked from beside her: "Are you uncomfortable?"

Elena didn't answer, her gaze remaining cold: "May I leave now?"

Marco's movements froze. His voice was hoarse: "Since we're already at the hospital, let's do a prenatal checkup."

As if afraid she would refuse, Marco had already prepared his reasoning: "After this checkup, you won't need another one for three months. It's cold, and going out isn't convenient."

It really wasn't convenient. The baby was five months along, with less than five months remaining, and the new district project still had zero progress. After thinking about it, Elena didn't refuse.

But when the fetus appeared on the screen, Elena didn't look.

Behind her, Marco watched intently, listening to the medical staff's explanations with some joy at the corners of his mouth. But seeing Elena coldly looking out the window, his heart felt as if a basin of cold water had been poured over it.

He raised his hand to signal: "That's enough."

Elena got up and left. Marco bitterly moved his thin lips and quickly followed: "Elena."

She acted as if she hadn't heard. When Marco's hand reached out, she seemed to anticipate it and avoided him, turning back with a face that was cold and indifferent, piercing Marco so he couldn't speak.

"Satisfied now, Marco?" Elena asked. "You got your wish to be alone with me, to see the child. What do you want to do next? At your pace, should I also accompany you to a hotel and sleep with you?"

"Elena." These words were crude and hard to hear. Marco's sword-like brows couldn't help but furrow as he said roughly: "It's not what you think."

"It's not? Then what is it?" Elena looked at him coldly. "Marco, I don't want to expose why you appeared so timely, and I'm too lazy to entangle with you. I thought you would at least understand that my staying in New York and agreeing to complete the new district project before the child is born is not to rekindle old flames with you."

"I hate you - hate you so much that every night I dream of you, I want to kill you to vent my anger. I'm staying only to fulfill my father's dying wish. Stop humiliating yourself."

"Some things are best left at just touching the surface. If you continue, it won't be interesting anymore."

She strode away without a moment's hesitation. She almost seemed eager to escape, rushing to express her emotions. Compared to crying and making a scene, this seemed more cold and much more heartbreaking.

Heartbreak represents caring, but she neither cried nor made a fuss. Whether in court or in front of him, she always held her chin high, never shedding a single tear.

Marco's breathing was chaotic. He felt as if a knife was lodged in his chest, the blade tip pressing against his heart, seeping thick blood. But the person holding the knife neither thrust it in cleanly to give him relief nor removed it.

It just left him trembling with fear, unable to sleep at night.

"Elena..." Marco's mouth carried a bitter taste.

She had misunderstood him. She thought the reason he had arrived there was because he had installed a tracking device on her, that he was following her. In reality, he had just been nearby discussing business and happened to see her.

After all, love was something indescribable. No matter how far apart they were, he could always quickly spot her figure in a crowd.

...

Elena slept through the night, woke up with her biological clock, got out of bed to wash up, then had breakfast before going to the company.

Everything was routine.

But when she opened the door today, something suddenly hit her foot. Elena looked down to see a fresh bouquet with morning dew still on it, wrapped in newspaper with a card attached.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she picked it up. The card simply had two words written on it: Good morning.

The handwriting was flowing like clouds and water, strong and powerful, with extremely forceful strokes. People say you can see the person through their handwriting - these two words revealed the owner's spirit. Combined with the distinctive style, Elena couldn't help but know who it was.

Marco.

Though she didn't know why he had started using such childish tactics, Elena didn't care. She threw it in the trash can and looked up to see the man's figure standing by the door, leaning casually against his car.

Seeing Elena throw away the bouquet, disappointment flashed in his eyes before he explained: "Your car is broken. Until it's fixed, I'll come pick you up every day."

"Can it even be fixed?"

Elena asked mockingly. Before Marco could speak, she said: "I never drive to work anyway. I take taxis and don't need to ride in your car. Please go back, Mr. Moretti."

The formal "Mr." quickly created distance between them and made Marco's expression change slightly.

But he said nothing, just insisted that Elena get in the car.

Elena couldn't help feeling annoyed. After all that, yesterday's words had no effect on him whatsoever.

Marco, when had he become so thick-skinned?

She strode toward the side. Marco didn't insist on pulling her along but followed behind her, watching her hail a cab.

Elena looked straight ahead, treating him like air. The first car stopped, and Elena was about to open the door and get in when, for some reason, the driver suddenly drove away without a word.

Elena stepped back, nearly getting hurt. The second car did the same.

She turned around and suddenly met the man's gaze: "Is this interesting, Marco? You're a grown man playing these games."

Marco's thin lips moved up and down before he finally said: "Since I'm already here, let me drive you back. I won't come again tomorrow."