Facade of Love

Chapter 47 Why do you know about the past?

I smiled, not intending to elaborate. “Take it at face value, Mr. Young. If you’re curious, why not investigate my dear sister’s whereabouts during your accident? See if she really could have saved you from the border and brought you back.”

With that, I prepared to leave.

Idris seized my wrist, his handsome brow furrowed as he looked at me. “Yvette, how do you know about what happened in the past?” His confusion was palpable, and I yearned to tell him everything, but I knew that if he learned about the past, his stubborn nature would make a divorce even more unlikely.

With this in mind, I said, “I don’t know anything. I just understand my sister’s nature, and I wanted to warn you. If you’re looking to repay a favor, make sure you’re not thanking the wrong person. Otherwise, you’ll end up the butt of everyone’s jokes.” I wrenched my hand from his grip, gathered my belongings, and left the yard. Idris seemed determined to follow, but

Moore held him back.

my stomach

Clutching her stomach and grimacing in pain, she cried out to Idris, her voice strained with desperation. “Iddy, my hurts so much. Don’t leave…”

help but admire Moore’s performance. Her acting skills were wasted

for me to review. I agreed. I had only a month to investigate the finances. Now that things were over between Idris and me, and with my father gone, my mother was alone at the Scotts‘. She was struggling, and it was the perfect time for me to return and support her, while also investigating the whereabouts of

her in this state, a pang of pain shot through my heart. I moved to her side, my voice raspy. “Mom, why are you sitting in

he might be scared? I’ve kept the light on, hoping he might come back to see me. But I’ve been waiting, and there’s no sign of him. He was always so stubborn, so hard–hearted. He left without even saying

“Mom, Dad was most worried about you before he left. He kept reminding me

mother’s eyes again as she clung to me. “Yvette, what

she was missing

l*ps pressed together. He was always tough on the outside but soft on the inside. Even at the end, he couldn’t let go of us. That

doorbell rang from outside the yard. I remembered I had asked Uncle Marcus to deliver some financial documents. I

the coffee table. “Ms. Scott, I’ve brought some of the financial reports from Scott Corporation and GleamGate Media for the past year. There’s still some more. The

Marcus.

My mother, having wiped away the tear stains on her face, poured him a cup of tea and gestured for him to sit. Accepting the

he began, “I hope you’re managing your grief.