Chapter 2 Mr. Windsor's Great Kindness
When Rebecca opened her eyes, she found herself staring at a stark white ceiling.
Her mind was foggy for a moment.
The last thing she remembered was the vast expanse of snow.
Then everything spun.
After that, it was all a blank.
Realizing she must have fainted, Rebecca sat up in bed, recalling all those news stories about people passing out outside bars and getting picked up by strangers.
She was still wearing the clothes she had on when she left the house that morning.
Her week-old, dirty white down jacket was now hanging, soft and clean, on a coat rack.
The room was warm and elegantly decorated, with a beige color scheme that screamed high-end taste.
Even the rug under the coffee table looked like a masterpiece.
On the nightstand was a glass of honey water.
The room was both comforting and unfamiliar.
A faint scent of sandalwood lingered in the air.
Rebecca hesitated for a moment before opening the door.
"Ms. Getty, you're awake?"
In the living room downstairs, Layla Hill, the housekeeper, was giving instructions to the staff in a gentle voice.
Seeing Rebecca, Layla smiled and said, "The bathtub's filled with hot water, and there's a change of clothes in the wardrobe. Take a bath and change, then come down to the dining room for some food."
Rebecca stood frozen at the bedroom door on the second floor.
Layla had been the Getty family's housekeeper.
When the Getty family went bankrupt and sold the mansion, all the staff, including Layla, were let go.
Seeing Layla again after a week, Rebecca almost felt like she was back home, if not for the unfamiliar surroundings.
"Layla, where am I?"
"This is Mr. Windsor's house."
The Windsor family was one of the top elite families in Empire City.
Frederick's grandmother, Elizabeth Windsor, was known for her philanthropy and kindness.
Frederick, the second son of the Windsor family, was both the head of the Windsor Group and the new patriarch of the Windsor family.
Everyone in Empire City, from distant relatives who depended on Frederick to those who wanted to do business with the Windsor family, respectfully called him Mr. Windsor.
It was said that if he stomped his foot, the ground in Empire City would quake.
It was surprising to see this reputedly ruthless Mr. Windsor show such kindness.
Thinking of how he had carried Rebecca into the house with a stern expression, with a private doctor and nutritionist arriving soon after, Layla's eyes reddened as she looked at Rebecca.
"Luckily you ran into Mr. Windsor. If it weren't for him, who knows what would have happened to you out in the snow?"
"Mr. Windsor left after bringing you here. He probably won't be back for a while. Go take a bath first. We can talk more after you've eaten."
Even though Rebecca was no longer the pampered rich girl of the Getty family, Layla was as gentle and patient as ever.
Rebecca nodded and went into the bathroom.
The steam from the hot water gradually relaxed her tense body.
Rebecca let out a long breath, a cold, handsome figure surfacing in her mind.
Frederick.
Besides being Mr. Windsor, Frederick had another title for Rebecca.
Uncle Frederick.
Frederick was Dennis's uncle.
The Getty family and the Johnson family lived in the same neighborhood, and Rebecca had grown up playing with the Johnson kids.
They called him Uncle Frederick, so Rebecca did too.
Two years ago, at her 18th birthday party, she got engaged to Dennis, making the title Uncle Frederick even more natural.
Rebecca never imagined that in her most desperate moment, it would be Frederick who would lend a hand.
Thinking about that one hundred million dollars, Rebecca felt a slight stir in her heart.
But she quickly squashed the thought.
Dennis, her fiancé, hadn't been willing to help her.
After their engagement was called off, she had no ties to Dennis.
Let alone to his Uncle Frederick.
Money used to be just a number to Rebecca. She'd buy limited edition cars and expensive jewelry without batting an eye.
She never thought there would come a day when a hundred million dollars would leave her helpless.
Rebecca closed her eyes and submerged herself in the water.
Frederick didn't return until it was dark.
In the dining room, Layla slid an old-looking bank card across the table to Rebecca. "There's $1.16 million in this card. It's all the money I've saved working for the Getty family over the years. It's not much, but it should help you out a bit."
"Layla, I can't take this!"
Rebecca quickly pushed the card back to Layla, her eyes welling up with tears.
Layla smiled and touched Rebecca's face. "Consider it a loan. Pay me back when you can."
Twenty years ago, Layla had fled from a remote village to Empire City with her young daughter, Alice Baker.
Meeting Rebecca's mother, Alexa, and joining the Getty family had given them a stable life.
Now, Alice was a top student, and Layla had been living comfortably with the Getty family.
But overnight, the Getty family collapsed.
Without connections or substantial wealth, the best Layla could do was offer this $1.16 million.
"Becca, in my heart, Alice comes first, you come second, and your mother and I are third..."
Layla pressed the card back into Rebecca's hand. "Keep it. We'll get through this together. Things will get better. Stay strong, Becca!"
Afraid she might cry if she stayed longer, Layla left the dining room with tears in her eyes.
Rebecca sat there, stunned, for a long time.
When Frederick walked in, he immediately noticed Rebecca on the living room sofa.
She seemed to be waiting for him, sitting up straight.
Who knows how long she'd been waiting, but she had fallen asleep with her head resting on the back of the sofa.
The usually cold and empty villa felt a bit warmer with her presence.
Frederick's stern expression softened involuntarily.
The last time he saw her was at a party.
Rebecca, in a smoky gray dress, had entered the hall arm-in-arm with Dennis.
She was radiant, her smile as bright as a flower, and she shone like a star.
Even from a distance, Frederick could feel the collective gaze of everyone turning to her as she walked in.
Both men and women were captivated.
But now?
Rebecca looked like a fragile pear blossom on a branch, battered by wind and rain, ready to fall at any moment.
Her face was as small as his palm.
Her chin had become much sharper.
She seemed like a glass figurine, ready to shatter at the slightest touch.
Frederick stared at her face for a long time, then abruptly turned and left the villa.
As the door closed, Rebecca woke with a start.
The next moment, her phone began to ring.