Chapter 166 Sending a Sports Car
Ten o'clock that night.
After washing up, Arabella pushed open the bedroom door to find Alexander laying out blankets on the floor. Her steps faltered. After hesitating, she spoke up. "Um... since we've already... if you don't mind, you can sleep on the bed."
Alexander froze mid-motion, looking up at her with clear eyes. "Are you sure?"
Arabella felt a bit embarrassed. She didn't know why her brain had short-circuited and blurted that out, but... they were officially married now. Making him sleep on the floor just didn't feel right anymore, especially since this was his house—she and Becky were technically just staying here.
She nodded. "The bed's pretty big. Plenty of room for both of us. And, um... if you think it's necessary, we could pool our money and buy a bigger place. Three bedrooms—one for each of us. I'd be okay with that."
She mainly didn't know what Alexander's limits were. A marriage without love, but still having to be responsible—it was really hard.
Alexander's smile was subtle but genuine. "We can put off buying a place for now. Becky just started elementary school—between extracurriculars and tutoring, there'll be lots of expenses. We should save up. I think things are fine as they are."
Arabella breathed a sigh of relief. "As long as you're okay with it."
She turned to put down her phone, and when she looked up, Alexander had already rolled up the blanket at lightning speed and tossed it in the closet. She blinked. "Wow, you're fast."
Alexander smiled warmly. "I've always been efficient."
Arabella didn't think much of it and climbed into bed, leaving the other side for him.
She'd been hogging his big bed alone all this time. Now the bedding was all soft yellow with lace trim. When Alexander lay down, whether it was psychological or not, he felt like the sweet scent filled his nose.
He could hear her breathing, smell her shampoo. She was so close, they were sharing the same bed...
Heat stirred low in his belly. He took a deep breath, forcing down the restless feeling.
Moving too fast would scare her. If he scared her away, it was all over. He had to take it slow.
Arabella was nervous too. She lay flat on her back, body somewhat stiff. His presence was so strong—even with a person's worth of space between them, she couldn't ignore he was there.
Ten o'clock was usually her bedtime, but now she couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that scene from the couch this afternoon...
This was too hard. The path she'd chosen was way too hard.
Whether the two people sharing a bed that night slept at all, only they knew.
---
The next morning, Arabella dragged herself out of bed with dark circles under her eyes. She turned her head and came face to face with Alexander's equally dark-circled eyes. She tensed for a second before hearing him say with a friendly smile, "Morning."
"...Morning."
She desperately wanted to escape. The awkwardness was suffocating. She didn't even eat breakfast—just washed up, made an excuse about an emergency at work, and bolted.
Becky ate her breakfast while studying Alexander. "Mr. FitzRoy, did your win-back-your-wife plan work?"
Alexander expressionlessly handed her a piece of toast. "Short-term, you don't need to worry about becoming a child from a broken home."
Becky gasped with delight and gave him a thumbs up. "Damn, you're actually pretty good! Keep it up—work on winning Ms. Bourbon's heart back completely."
Alexander glanced at her. "Eat your food."
---
Meanwhile, Arabella got to the office and soon received a call from the front desk saying someone had sent her flowers and she needed to come down to sign for them personally.
She assumed they were from Alexander. She felt a bit surprised and kind of pleased, though it was weird—normally when female colleagues got flowers, the delivery person brought them straight up. Why did she have to go down?
Gillian and Faye, the coworkers she was closest with, looked over with excitement that rivaled her own. "Flowers! Arabella, go check it out!"
The two grabbed her arms and practically dragged her downstairs. Arabella laughed. "You guys are being ridiculous."
Gillian's expression was even more exaggerated than hers. "Arabella, this is your first time getting flowers! It's a big deal—maybe it's your lucky break!"
Faye nodded eagerly. "Right, right! Either way, let's go look. You're thirty and haven't even had a boyfriend—we're worried sick about you."
Arabella had never mentioned at work that she'd been married, divorced, and remarried. Everyone in the department thought she was single.
Hearing Gillian and Faye's comments, she found it amusing. "You should worry about yourselves instead."
She planned to sign for Alex's flowers, then shock them both with news of her second marriage.
But the moment they stepped off the elevator, all three froze.
In the enormous lobby sat a bright red sports car absolutely covered in roses!
Gillian was the first to recover. "The... the front desk called this 'flowers'?"
This was clearly delivering a sports car with flowers as a bonus.
Faye's boyfriend was into cars, so she'd picked up some knowledge. Her jaw dropped. "Holy shit... a red Bugatti, limited edition! Who sends gifts this extravagant?"
But Arabella's heart sank with a bad feeling. Something like this—Alex couldn't afford it.
As she stood there in silence, a tall, handsome figure emerged from behind the car.
Faye gasped. "Oh my God, he's gorgeous! Rich, loaded, and handsome—it's like some novel's CEO walked into reality!"
Gillian was a few years older than them. She noticed that when the man appeared, Arabella's face turned ugly. Her heart skipped a beat as she asked quietly, "Do you know him?"
She worried Arabella might've run into one of those forceful rich guys—wealthy people were always the most lawless.
Arabella shook her head. "Gillian, Faye, you go back up. I'll explain later."
Gillian and Faye exchanged glances. Figuring nothing too bad could happen in the office, they nodded and left her alone.
As they entered the elevator, Faye suddenly grabbed Gillian's arm. Gillian jumped. "What's wrong?"
Faye said shakily, "Gillian, don't you think that guy who gave Arabella the car looks familiar?"
Gillian frowned, thinking, then shook her head. "I don't know him."
"Anthony. The CEO of Watson Group."
Faye was practically trembling as she said it.
She was young and loved following gossip online. As one of Majestic City's top ten most handsome CEOs, Anthony had made an impression...
Gillian's hair stood on end at those words. Even her usually calm face couldn't hide her shock. "...Holy shit."
---
Downstairs, Anthony walked step by step toward Arabella.
He wore a deep blue suit with a white shirt, delicate metallic cufflinks showing at the sleeves.
Arabella stared at those cufflinks for a long moment.
Anthony noticed her gaze and smiled, raising his hand to display them. His voice was low. "Do you remember? The first gift you ever gave me."
A hint of mockery crossed Arabella's expression.
"I remember," she said, smiling too, though the smile didn't reach her cold eyes. None of the nostalgia and excitement Anthony expected appeared on her face. She looked at him and said softly, "Those cufflinks cost twenty thousand dollars. I saved for three months to give them to you for your birthday."
"You do remember." Something definitive flashed in Anthony's eyes as he smiled. "We have so many beautiful memories together. You loved me so much before, sacrificed so much for me. I can't forget these things, and neither can you, right?"
"That's right." Arabella's mouth twisted. Seeing the confident smile on Anthony's face, like he had everything under control, she said with a cold smile, "I can't forget. Can't forget how I was played like a fool. Can't forget those two years I slaved away for you. And I definitely can't forget how my sincere heart was betrayed and trampled on."
Meeting the shock in Anthony's eyes, the mockery in hers deepened. She pointed at the cufflinks. "When I gave them to you, I had them engraved. You probably never even noticed, since the day after I gave them to you, you threw them away somewhere. Finding an identical pair must've been pretty tough, huh?"
Anthony froze, looking down. The cufflinks gleamed brightly. He'd never noticed that the pair she'd given him had been engraved...
These weren't the original pair—just like she said, such an insignificant thing, he'd lost them long ago. Finding this identical pair had taken considerable effort. But he'd never expected Arabella to see through it completely.
For a moment he actually felt embarrassed.
"Even if they're not the original pair, the fact that I went to such lengths to find identical ones shows how important you are to me, doesn't it?" Anthony looked at her, still pressing. "Arabella, I love you. We had two years together. You loved me so deeply. Now I'm formally inviting you back. There will always be a place for you by my side."
"Sorry, I'm not interested," Arabella refused without hesitation. "Anthony, if you're bored, go do charity work. I don't have time to play these mind games with you. Take all this stuff with you when you leave."
She felt like there was no reasoning with Anthony, so she didn't bother trying. This man was arrogant, conceited, and self-righteous. She didn't have the energy to waste words.
She threw out those words and turned to leave, but Anthony grabbed her hand, his eyes flashing with intensity. "Arabella, give me one more chance. I know I was wrong. I was foolish before and hurt you, but I'll make it up to you a hundred, a thousand times over. Okay?"
"I don't need it." Arabella tried to pull her hand back but couldn't break free from his grip. Even her good temper was running out. She looked up, warning, "Anthony, let go!"
Anthony shook his head, looking at her with determination. "In this life, when I want something, I've never let go. Arabella, I love you. Even if it costs me everything, I'll bring you back to my side."
This time Arabella really did laugh—from sheer disbelief.
"Anthony, you must actually be sick. When I loved you, you didn't give a damn. Now that I don't love you, you come crawling back. You know what that's called? Being pathetic. Get this straight—I'm your ex-wife. I've already started a new life. Nothing about me has anything to do with you anymore. Don't you feel like you're embarrassing yourself, clinging to me like this?"
Anthony's gaze was burning with determination. "Pursuing the woman you love isn't embarrassing. I only feel like I haven't done enough, that I need to try harder."
Arabella thought he'd really lost his mind.
Not wanting to entangle with him further, her voice turned cold. "Let go, or I'm calling the police!"
Anthony stared at her intently. "I told you—I won't let go of your hand again."
He pulled her hand, dragging her toward the car. "Come look at the car I bought you. I remember you once said you thought this car was beautiful."
Arabella laughed coldly.
She had said that. To a woman who was in love with Anthony.
During their two-year marriage, her presence had been so weak that plenty of people thought he was single. Women actively throwing themselves at him were a dime a dozen.
Once, a female executive had sought her out and provoked her to her face. Back then, struggling to survive in high society, that woman had pointed at her nose and called her a parasite who could only depend on men.
Arabella had felt pretty hurt by it. She'd wanted to ask Anthony who that woman was, but when she got home that day, he'd said he was exhausted and didn't want to talk. So she'd swallowed her words.
But she remembered that woman drove a red Bugatti. She'd tested the waters by mentioning to him that the red Bugatti was really pretty.
But at that time, Anthony had dismissed all her needs, brushing her off and placating her. He probably hadn't even respected her as an equal person.
And now, after they'd divorced, when she could finally recall these things with detachment, Anthony showed up in front of her with that red Bugatti.
In her thirty years of life, Arabella had never seen anything so ironic.
Anthony opened the car door to show her. "I picked out the interior myself. You've always loved cream white, so I had everything done in cream white. That little turtle in the back seat—it's the one you left at the house. I know you loved it, so I had someone clean it and restore it to put in here."
He looked at Arabella intensely. "Arabella, I've put so much thought into this for you. Are you really going to completely ignore it?"
Arabella coldly pushed his hand away. "Mr. Watson, I've made myself very clear. I'm not accepting the car, and I don't want you either."
She tried to leave, but Anthony clung to her stubbornly, refusing to let go. Arabella hadn't wanted to make a scene at the office entrance, but now she couldn't worry about that. She pulled out her phone to call the police.
But before she could dial, sirens suddenly wailed outside. Soon, two police officers walked in. "Who's causing a disturbance here?"
The receptionist hurried forward. "Officers, this man has been harassing our company's employee. She's already rejected him but he won't leave her alone. We don't know if he might have antisocial personality disorder."
Anthony's gaze turned icy as he looked at the receptionist. She shrank back, retreating a step, too intimidated to speak further.
If management hadn't instructed her, she'd never dare provoke someone like this.