Chapter 30: Grace! She Has Returned!

Vivian rolled her eyes so hard, feeling waves of nausea in her stomach.

"Alfred, do you have some kind of masochistic tendency?" Vivian mocked mercilessly. "Where were you before? Now you're putting on this lovesick act for who exactly? Aren't you and your Brenda a match made in heaven? Why don't you two just lock it down and stop messing with my Grace?"

"Brenda and I are over!" Alfred interrupted urgently, his eyes full of regret and pain. "She lied to me, she was scheming behind my back the whole time! I never wanted to divorce Grace, I just... I was just deceived!"

"Deceived?" Vivian laughed coldly. "Alfred, you're in your thirties. Don't try to make cheating and emotional abuse sound so poetic. You weren't deceived, you're just trash. You had a wife who only had eyes for you, but you threw her away to pick up garbage from the streets."

Vivian grabbed her bag, not wanting to stay another second. "We have nothing more to say. I'm warning you, stop bothering Grace. She's doing ten thousand times better than you now. Leave her alone - consider it good karma for yourself."

With that, she turned and walked away in her heels.

"Vivian!" Alfred suddenly stood up and rushed forward in a few steps, blocking her path.

His tall frame was slightly hunched, his eyes red, with a hint of humble pleading. "I can't live without her... My love for Grace is real, I really can't lose her! As long as she comes back, I'll give her all my assets, I'll get on my knees and beg for her forgiveness!"

"Real love?" Vivian looked like she'd heard the biggest joke, her eyes full of disgust and contempt. "Alfred, stop insulting those words. You love her? If you loved her, would you let your mom and Brenda bully her when she couldn't see? If you loved her, would you stand by and do nothing when scalding coffee was thrown on her right after surgery? If you loved her, would you have someone try to run her over in the parking garage?!"

Vivian's words were like sharp knives, stabbing deep into Alfred's heart.

"That's not love. You're just used to her giving, and now that she's not serving you anymore, you feel bitter about it!" Vivian took a deep breath, suppressing her anger. "If you're a man, take responsibility for what you should. Don't be like a piece of sticky plaster that won't let go. The way you are now isn't just pathetic, it's disgusting!"

Vivian shook off his hand forcefully and walked out of the café without looking back.

Alfred stood frozen in place. Other customers cast strange looks his way, but he seemed completely unaware. Vivian's words echoed in his mind like thunder, tearing away his last shred of dignity.

Yes, all he'd brought her was endless hurt and despair. How could he still have the nerve to say he loved her?

Late at night, Alfred returned to the villa that once belonged to him and Grace, lost and devastated.

Opening the door, he was hit by a wave of deathly silence.

No warm lights, no smell of cooking from the kitchen, and no gentle figure sitting on the sofa waiting for him to come home.

Alfred didn't even take off his shoes, stumbling into the living room and collapsing onto the sofa.

Every corner of the villa held traces of Grace.

The purple clay tea set on the coffee table - Grace had searched through antique markets to find it for him, just because he'd casually mentioned he liked tea. The succulents on the balcony - Grace had planted them one by one with her own hands, but now they were withered and yellow from neglect. The slippers by the entrance, the ties in the closet, the toiletries in the bathroom... everywhere were traces Grace had left behind.

Alfred closed his eyes in pain.

Images from when they first got married involuntarily floated into his mind.

Back then, Grace's eyes always sparkled with starlight when she looked at him. She would cook for him, would be happy all day from just one compliment.

But later, he personally crushed the light in her eyes.

He was the one who pushed that girl whose heart was full of him into becoming a cold, resolute stranger.

His heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, the pain making it hard to breathe.

Alfred curled up on the large sofa like a child who had lost everything.

He clutched a cushion Grace had once used, burying his face in it, trying to find even a trace of her scent.

In the silent night, in the empty villa, only the man's suppressed and desperate sobbing remained.

Finally, tormented by regret, clutching empty memories, he fell into a deep sleep.

But he knew that even in dreams, Grace would never look back.

The next morning, the sky over South City was overcast, with an oppressive feel.

In the high-end business district downtown, Alfred's friend Luke Rodriguez had just come out of a club and was about to get his car.

Casually, his gaze swept across the street and suddenly froze.

A black Bentley was parked by the roadside. The door opened, and a man and woman got out.

The woman wore a sharp black business suit, with a slender figure and a cool, familiar profile. The man wore a dark gray custom-tailored suit, gentle and refined, shielding her from the car roof.

Luke rubbed his eyes, confirming he wasn't mistaken.

That was Grace and Dylan!

He immediately pulled out his phone and called Alfred.

The phone rang for a long time before being answered. A hoarse, dejected voice came through, like someone just waking from a hangover. "What is it?"

"Alfred, guess who I just saw?" Luke lowered his voice, speaking urgently. "Grace! She's back in the country! And Dylan's with her!"

"What did you say?!" The sound of a bottle crashing to the floor came through the phone. Alfred's voice instantly rose, with an almost crazed fervor. "Where is she? Tell me where she is!"

"They just got in the car, heading toward West Side. Looks like they're going to that film prop factory under Starlight Entertainment." Before Luke could finish, the call was already disconnected.

In the villa, Alfred suddenly stood up from the mess on the floor. He didn't even have time to change out of his wrinkled shirt, grabbed the car keys from the coffee table, and rushed out like a madman.

Grace was back! She hadn't completely disappeared!

This thought was like tearing open a ray of light in the darkness, making Alfred's dead heart beat violently again.

He floored the gas pedal, the sports car roaring like a beast as it sped toward West Side.

Meanwhile, outside the West Side film prop factory.

Dylan parked the car in a hidden spot under some trees about two hundred meters from the factory gate.

He turned to look at Grace in the passenger seat, a trace of worry in his eyes behind his silver-rimmed glasses.

"I've arranged for people to guard the perimeter of the factory." Dylan handed her a micro-locator. "You go in and check the accounts, I'll be outside for backup. If there's any danger, press this and I'll bring people in immediately."