Chapter 20
Yes, she was still alive!
“She’s not Viviana Owens!”
“She is—” Just as Maximo Myers was about to say “Arlette,” a voice interrupted him.
“Miss Shaw is here!”
Maximo froze for a moment, hesitant to immediately turn around and confirm what he feared might be just a figment of his imagination. He was terrified it was all a dream.
Then, finally!
A clear voice emerged from the stage—a voice that had whispered “Max” in his ear countless times. Even if the world crumbled, he would know it.
It was her!
Indeed, it was her!
No wonder Timothy Clark received that mysterious letter from Switzerland; it must have been an investigation by the Shaw family. And the surgeon, Matthias Carr, disappearing without a trace was surely orchestrated by them. The body in the operating room was a ruse.
An elaborate escape, rising from the ashes—a fake death to escape the old life!
Maximo’s heart thumped wildly in his chest, threatening to burst through. Mechanically, he turned around and fixed his eyes on her.
There she was.
The woman he had pined for day and night, whom he believed he would never see again—Arlette Myers. She was alive.
“Arlette!”
“Arlette!”
Everything around him dimmed into obscurity, except for the figure that captivated his heart, shining with radiant light. Just like countless times in his dreams, he sprinted toward her. Onlookers could only see a blur racing by.
He reached out his arms, eager to touch her.
“Smack—”
Just as he was about to clasp her dress, two vigilant bodyguards rushed forward, swiftly knocking Maximo to the ground.
“Arlette, it’s really you!”
“You’re alive!”
Maximo’s head was pressed under the bodyguard’s shoe, his face twisted, drool escaping from his mouth.
His gaze remained fixed on her, unwilling to look away.
After the car crash engulfed her in flames, Arlette had suffered horrific burns all over, even donating skin for Winnie’s surgery. Especially the open wound on her forehead, riddled with pus.
Her appearance was marred.
But now, the young woman in an elegant Victorian-style dress had nearly transformed into someone else.
Yet Maximo recognized her.
The eyes, the gestures, the voice… The woman before him was his wife, his true love.
She hadn’t died.
“Arlette.”
Joy and sorrow tore through Maximo’s heart, his body shaking with sobs.
“Arlette, how could you be so cruel? How could you leave me all alone? Do you know how I’ve lived these days?”
“I felt like joining you in the grave.”
“Arlette!”
“Why aren’t you dead yet?” The woman stared at him with an indifferent look, finally speaking in a voice so icy it lacked any emotional depth.
She might as well have been addressing a frantic clown, a mere stranger.
And she was simply curious.
Maximo’s throat tightened; only his heart throbbed in his hollow chest, emitting a wretched, desperate cry.
His dry lips parted.
“Arlette, I know my sins are unforgivable, and I should seek atonement through death. But now, having seen you—”
“With you here, I can’t bear to die.”
“Come back to me, please?”
Maximo looked up at her with pleading, hopeful eyes that were once stern and cold.
“Arlette, I was foolish before, doubting whether you loved money more than me. Even if you do love money, it doesn’t matter; I’ll give you the entire Myers Corporation.”
“If only you’re willing to come back.”
“Even if you despise me, loathe me, refuse to look me in the eye, I only need you.”
“Arlette.”
Arlette looked down at him quietly. Strangely, seeing him in such a sorry, lowly state before her evoked no satisfaction of revenge; instead, a sense of emptiness.
The sweet memories seemed like old, faded photographs—blurred and indistinct, yet the pain remained vivid.
How could she suffer so much for a man like this?
It wasn’t worth it.
“Arlette! Speak to me! We were so in love before; how can you simply say you don’t love me anymore?”
“And what about the child!”
“Arlette! You once carried our child, and then you said the three of us would surely be happy.”
“Shall we adopt a child? You can choose boy or girl—”
“How dare you bring that up!”