Chapter 33 The Transfer
Elodie was thinking about something else entirely. These past years, Emily had raised three children alone, and only the two of them knew how difficult that journey had been.
She genuinely hoped someone would cherish and love Emily properly.
Although she hadn't liked Charles much before, the fact that he'd rushed to save Emily and taken her to the hospital showed he was a decent man. Plus, Charles might be the children's biological father, so if Emily actually accepted him, it wouldn't be such a bad thing.
Emily caught Elodie's encouraging look and finally sighed, following Charles toward the parking lot.
The black Bentley glided smoothly through the night. Nathan tactfully turned down the music inside the car.
The atmosphere in the back seat was tense. Charles's fingertips fidgeted with the armrest compartment containing the jewelry box.
Several times, he wanted to speak, but Emily's cold profile stopped him each time.
Couldn't this woman look at him even once?
"Mr. Windsor," Emily suddenly broke the silence, "About that ruby brooch, would you consider transferring it to me at cost? If that seems unfair, I could pay a reasonable premium."
Charles's expression instantly darkened. "Emily, in your eyes, am I just a businessman to make deals with? You think I can just transfer something I bought for a hundred million dollars because you ask?"
"What else? The brooch isn't worth that much. Mr. Windsor, you will only lose money keeping it, so you might as well transfer it to me."
Charles was left speechless, his chest tight with frustration. He just wanted her to be a little warmer, to at least say "thank you," but she insisted on being confrontational.
"Fine, beg me for it."
Emily's face turned grim. She hated being manipulated. As the car stopped at a red light, she pushed the door open. "Never mind then. Mr. Windsor, you can keep it."
"Emily!" Charles called sharply, reaching for her, but only caught the edge of her coat.
Emily walked away without looking back, her high heels striking the asphalt with resolute sounds.
Charles watched her retreating figure with mixed anger and anxiety, noticing that she wasn't heading in the direction of the apartment he'd visited before.
"Nathan, follow her. Not too close."
The Bentley trailed behind slowly. Charles watched as Emily hailed a taxi at the curb. The taxi drove all the way to Starlight Manor.
Charles's pupils contracted sharply.
"Why would she live there?"
Though it was coincidental that Emily lived in the same gated community as Ethan and Emma, it wasn't entirely improbable.
After all, the estate was highly sought after. Nathan alone knew several executives who lived there.
Emily had just received a hundred million dollars from Charles, so purchasing multiple properties wasn't unusual.
These wealthy individuals often acquired numerous residences, not necessarily as investments, but simply because they preferred living in more private luxury homes.
So Nathan found nothing strange about it.
"Find out Emily's house number," Charles ordered.
Nathan looked troubled. "Mr. Windsor, that might be difficult. This estate was developed by the Martin Group."
Nathan didn't continue, but Charles immediately understood his meaning. The Martin Group wasn't involved in many businesses, but they were most famous for real estate, particularly known for privacy.
Probably because Wesley was in the entertainment industry and hated being disturbed by fans, he placed extreme importance on privacy.
When no existing properties met Wesley's standards, he created his own.
Many celebrities chose Martin Group properties specifically for this feature.
With these high-profile residents, the already secure Martin Group estates had become virtually impenetrable.
Finding out Emily's house number wouldn't be a simple task.
"Let's head back," Charles said.
He gazed deeply toward the estate. Emily had too many mysteries surrounding her, and if he wanted to unravel them, he needed more interactions with her.
He fiddled with the jewelry box. Perhaps this brooch could provide a breakthrough.
---
When Emily gently pushed open the front door of her home, only a warm yellow floor lamp illuminated the living room. The doors to all three children's rooms were closed, with Ethan's faint sleep-talking barely audible through the walls.
"Mom."
A soft voice called from the corner. Emily turned to see Jasper sitting on the sofa, reading a book, with a glass of milk beside him.
Jasper wore light blue pajamas, his hair slightly disheveled, clearly having waited for some time.
Emily walked over and touched his forehead. "Why aren't you asleep yet? Blair said you all came home in the early evening. You should rest after a long day at school."
Jasper closed his book, his gaze settling on her slightly pale face. He pushed the glass of milk toward her. "Blair mentioned there would be alcohol at the gala, so I prepared this milk for when you returned."
Emily took the glass, feeling a warmth spread through her heart. Jasper was only five years old, yet so much more mature than others his age, always quietly taking care of her and his siblings.
"Thank you, Jasper." She took a few sips of milk, the smooth liquid soothing her tired throat.
"Mom," Jasper suddenly asked, his gaze clear yet penetrating, "Where did you go last night? Why didn't you answer your phone?"
Emily paused, then casually smiled. "I had to work late, and my phone died. See? I'm back home safe and sound now."
Jasper studied her for a few seconds but didn't press further. He lowered his eyes, his long eyelashes casting faint shadows. "Mom, would you consider finding us a father?"
He paused, his voice barely above a whisper. "I worry about you being alone."
Emily's heart clenched. She knew this child was smart. He had probably sensed something was wrong, but kept quiet to avoid worrying his brother and sister.
She set down the glass and hugged Jasper. "I understand. I'll be more careful in the future. I won't make you worry again."
Jasper stiffened slightly in her embrace before gently hugging her back, his small hands gripping her clothing tightly, as if afraid she might disappear if he let go.
That concerned yet pretending-to-be-fine expression reminded Emily of Charles.
If Charles truly was the children's father, would he try to take them away from her?
"Time for bed now. You have school tomorrow." Emily patted Jasper's back and watched him return to his room.
---
As night gave way to morning, sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the dining room. The table was set with steaming milk, fried eggs, and whole wheat bread. Emma was poking at the egg on her plate with a small fork, her cheeks puffed out in complaint. "The yolk broke again!"
Jasper noticed the glass of milk beside her, already mixed with chocolate syrup, and frowned.
"Emma, don't eat so much sugar. You'll get cavities." Jasper wiped a milk stain from the corner of Emma's mouth while holding a piece of toast, preparing to add ham to it for his mother.
Ethan held up half a fried egg to Emily's mouth. "Mom, eat this one! It's not broken!"
Emily took a small bite, smiling as she ruffled Ethan's soft hair. "Such a good boy, Ethan."
She looked toward Jasper. "Is your backpack all ready?"
Jasper nodded slightly, his gaze inadvertently falling on the dark circles under his mother's eyes. "Mom, maybe you should go to work later today and get some more sleep. With those dark circles, people might think you were out stealing last night."
Emma stared at Emily's face for a while, then suddenly said, "But thieves don't have dark circles."
"How would you know what thieves look like?"
"Of course I know! Yesterday, after school, I saw a man in a black cap by the school gate, always watching the students in our class. Blair said he might be a thief." She shrank her neck, imitating cartoon thieves, then giggled at her own impression.