4#04

4

"Lester, if you're so keen on caring for other people's families, don't bother coming back to our place!" I shouted, frustrated.

Lester's face immediately showed panic. We resided in a posh city center flat worth over $3 million, just a short drive from his workplace.

He swiftly grasped my arm, pleading softly, "Amelia, please don't be mad. I admit I'm wrong. I'll go home with you now and face the consequences."

I cast a challenging look at Samantha, who seemed ready to cry, gazing at Lester with a sorrowful expression, her eyes watery but not quite spilling over.

Lester wavered, his voice slightly unsteady as he told her, "I've done what I can for you and the children. Now I need to return home for dinner with my wife."

Samantha nodded, her eyes reddened and fixated longingly on his face.

I scoffed, "Keep ogling my husband and I'll pluck those eyes out, you brazen mistress!"

"That's enough, Amelia. Let's go!" Lester quickly pulled me away, evidently worried about my temper flaring up.

As we left, I glanced back to see Samantha glowering at me with hateful eyes.

Once home, Lester put on his best devoted husband act—bringing water and personally washing my feet. It was clear he couldn't stand the thought of losing our opulent home.

Previously, this would have filled me with joy. Now? I could only notice how his looks had faded, his scent no longer enticing, and his once-firm abs now nonexistent.

I half-heartedly allowed him to pamper me as he babbled on.

"I just empathized with her struggle of raising two kids alone. It reminded me of my childhood. My mom had to care for me by herself. Once, when I had a high fever, she was frantic, not knowing what to do... Amelia, I thought you'd comprehend why I wanted to assist."

I smiled and gently tousled his hair. "I get it. But that woman's intentions don't seem entirely innocent, do they?"

His eyes flickered, a hint of affection briefly visible.

I extended my hand. "Let me see your phone. I want to check your conversations with her."

His face turned ashen. "Amelia, after all this time, don't you trust me?"

"You don't have to show me. Just erase her contact information in front of me." My tone was composed, but I left him no room for escape.

He stood motionless, his face pale as a sheet. After a moment's hesitation, he finally produced his phone. With quivering fingers, he deleted Samantha from his contacts.

His hands shook so much that I knew then—he had truly developed feelings for her.

When I later recounted this to Enzo, he was shocked. "Boss, surely you're not considering forgiving that lowlife?"

We were at his café, where he had insisted I sample his latest coffee creation.

I shook my head. "Of course not. Every good narrative needs a villainess to bring the main characters closer. I'm just playing my part. I won't let a scoundrel walk away with half of Danica's fortune in a divorce settlement."

Enzo exhaled in relief, his expression melting into a smile. "As expected, you're brilliant, Boss. I was worried for nothing!"

With his attractive features and playful grin, Enzo brought over a coffee adorned with a charming cat design.

"The new blend is quite good," I admitted. Then, nonchalantly, I inquired, "By the way, do you have abs?"

Enzo chuckled. "Better than any middle-aged guy filled with fried food, that's for certain."

Technically, Lester was only twenty-eight, but his physique had begun to soften. The extra weight on his face had even diminished the appeal of his once large, expressive eyes.

Standing in the confined space behind the counter with Enzo, I felt an odd flutter. So this was what they called a "midlife crush." No wonder Lester was always sneaking out.

And speak of the devil, there he was, standing by Samantha's small food stand, beaming widely with a large bouquet of yellow roses and a small cake in hand.

Samantha didn't even look at him. She took the roses and threw them directly into the garbage.