Chapter 565 - 557: Finale Countdown (9)

"What if you see a girl prettier than Dorothy when you grow up?"

Dylan Grant replied earnestly, word for word, "In my eyes, Dorothy is the prettiest. I’m going to marry her when I grow up."

Hearing this, Nora Ainsworth and Quentin Grant were of two minds. Part of them found it precious, while the other part knew you couldn’t take a child’s words seriously.

"Alright, it’s getting late. Everyone, let’s get some rest. Tomorrow is a brand new day. Those who have school will go to school, those who have work will go to work, and everyone will do what they need to do."

The two children went upstairs, and Quentin Grant led Nora Ainsworth upstairs as well.

They stood at the bedroom door.

Just as Nora was about to enter, Quentin suddenly grabbed her hand.

"Quentin, what is it?"

He turned to the side, hugged her, and whispered softly in her ear, "Nora, close your eyes."

Nora Ainsworth closed her eyes with a smile.

Quentin Grant held her hand tightly and pushed the door open.

"Don’t open them yet."

Nora Ainsworth hummed softly in agreement. She followed him into the bedroom, and the door closed behind them. He led her further inside, and after just a few steps, he swept her up into his arms. He took a few more steps before setting her down again.

"You can open your eyes now."

Nora slowly opened her eyes. She looked around, surprised and delighted, then her gaze returned to him. This time, however, her eyes drifted downward to find Quentin Grant kneeling on the floor, looking up at her with a look of deep affection.

In his hand was an enormous diamond ring, which he held out to her.

"Nora, marry me."

Those three words made tears well up in Nora Ainsworth’s eyes. Every woman dreams of one day wearing the most beautiful wedding dress and marrying the man she loves most. This was perhaps a woman’s greatest wish: a good man and a happy family.

She smiled, lips pressed together, and held out her hand.

Quentin Grant hurriedly slipped the ring onto her finger, then stood up and pulled her into an embrace.

He picked her up, his excitement and elation written all over his face. He spun her around and around as Nora Ainsworth clung tightly to his neck, their joyous laughter filling the bedroom.

The room was filled with countless pots of roses, and candles on the floor glowed brilliantly.

"Didn’t you say we had to wait three years to get married?" she asked, lying in his arms.

"I was just saying that. You actually took it seriously? Rules are rigid, but people are flexible. I won’t make you wait another three years. That would be too unfair to you."

Nora Ainsworth huffed. "Have you been planning the wedding this whole time?"

He mused, "The preparations are still underway. I’ve set the wedding for next month. We have to wait for Ethan Ellsworth to recover."

"Okay."

"Starting tomorrow, we’ll begin our wedding photoshoot. We’ll bring the two kids for a family-of-four wedding shoot."

Nora Ainsworth toyed with his fingers. "The dust has settled, and the flowers are in full bloom. Quentin, I’ll walk with you into the future, and we’ll be incredibly happy. Oh, right, Maeve Sutton’s wedding is in a few days. At a time like this, how could we not attend?"

"If you say we’re going, we’re going. I’ll go with you," he said dotingly, his voice coming from above her head.

"Okay."

After all the hardships they had endured, they slept soundly that night, even smiling in their sleep. The peace in their hearts was reflected on their faces.

The door was pushed open quietly. The two brothers, who had been squatting by their parents’ door to eavesdrop, secretly covered their mouths and giggled.

The next day, the sun was shining brightly. The news that Quentin Grant would be marrying Nora Ainsworth next month completely exploded online.

No matter how well you do in this world, there will always be people who say you’re not good enough. Nora Ainsworth was no exception.

Once the wedding date was revealed, all sorts of comments appeared.

Quentin Grant—the young, cool, handsome, domineering, and wealthy diamond bachelor—was getting married. He became the talk of the town, from the main streets to the back alleys. Online searches for him surged, and Nora Ainsworth’s entire history was dredged up all over again.

On Weibo, Nora Ainsworth personally confirmed the news.

She posted a photo of her hand, adorned with the diamond ring, intertwined with Quentin Grant’s.

It was accompanied by a caption: "Finally, I’ve waited for you. I’m so glad I never gave up. For the rest of our days, I’ll be by your side."

The post was quickly shared by celebrities, business magnates, and Nora Ainsworth’s fans. In just half a day, it had received several million likes and over three million shares.

The comments surpassed one million.

The comments came from people with all sorts of attitudes. There were those who genuinely wished her and Quentin Grant happiness together, and there were those who sneered that Nora Ainsworth wasn’t good enough for him—as if the women saying this were the ones who truly deserved Quentin Grant.

Outsiders would never understand what Nora Ainsworth had sacrificed for Quentin Grant. When Nora read the comments—the sneers, the insults, the complaints—she simply smiled serenely, offering no explanation or alternative opinion.

Quentin Grant even made time to do the wedding photoshoot with Nora Ainsworth. The shoot could have been completed in one day, but they ended up taking five.

The photos turned out exceptionally well.

After the photoshoot, Quentin Grant began proactively managing company affairs. He took advantage of this time to delegate and handle many tasks in advance, even organizing things for the next two months. After the wedding, they still had their honeymoon to go on.

At that moment, Lillian Bancroft, who was in the hospital, was now able to get out of bed and walk around. He was returning to his country.

Although Ethan Ellsworth could also get out of bed, his overall physical condition wasn’t great. Nevertheless, he insisted on seeing him off personally.

Chloe Marshall didn’t stop him. The Ellsworth family went to the airport together to see Lillian Bancroft off.

The weather that day was a bit gray and overcast.

"Silly, I couldn’t keep my promise to Silly’s Mom, but I believe she’ll forgive me. She’ll know I didn’t mean to break it."

He pressed his lips into a smile. "It’s all in the past. As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters."

Dressed in formal attire, Lillian Bancroft stood at the door of the plane, looking down at the Ellsworth family. In the end, he smiled, waved, and without another word, turned and entered the cabin.

Chloe Marshall watched as the plane slowly ascended, her eyes fixed on the sky, sending him all her blessings.

’I hope he can live a happy and joyful life from now on.’

Meanwhile, Lillian Bancroft sat on the plane, watching the ground recede. Only when the plane reached an altitude of 10,000 meters and nothing but a vast expanse of white clouds was visible did he finally pull his gaze away.

The plane was still climbing, and he sat there in silence.

"Supreme Leader, are you alright?"

"I’m fine," he replied faintly. "There’s no need to worry."

Seeing this, the Secretary-General said no more. The plane flew on, and after several hours, it reached the airspace of Harrowin. Just as they were preparing to head to the Capital Airport, Lillian Bancroft spoke up. "Go to the border airfield."

The Secretary-General didn’t know what he intended to do there at this time, but he didn’t dare to disobey his orders. He immediately instructed the pilot to head for the border airfield.

An hour later, as afternoon approached, the plane slowly landed on the airfield’s runway.

After disembarking, he took a car to a small path.

"You all wait here. I’ll be right back."

The Secretary-General was puzzled. "Supreme Leader, what... what are you doing here? This place is deserted. We don’t know if there are wild animals or something."

His expression was calm as he gazed straight ahead. "This is where I grew up. It’s also where I met the First Lady. This might be... the last time I come to see it."

The Secretary-General’s heart skipped a beat. He instantly knew who Lillian Bancroft meant by ’First Lady’—it was definitely not Quinn Sullivan.

He stood there, watching Lillian Bancroft walk slowly down the path.

The air here was a bit cool and windy.

"Supreme Leader!"

The Secretary-General grabbed a suit jacket from the car and jogged over, draping it over his shoulders. "It’s chilly. Your body hasn’t fully recovered yet. Please be careful."

He turned his head slightly, nodded, and then continued forward.

The path was still a dirt road. Though it was a bit uneven to walk on, it felt surprisingly comfortable.

Before long, he finally reached the place where he once lived. The two small shacks that had been built there had been severely damaged long ago when people were trying to hunt him down. However, he could still vaguely make out their original form, and bits and pieces of his former life.

He had lived here for many years.

Lillian Bancroft often wondered: if their adoptive father hadn’t gone to the market that day, if their pursuers hadn’t come that night, if he hadn’t died, they wouldn’t have hidden in the cellar. Then, his adoptive mother wouldn’t have died, and he and Chloe might have continued to live here.

Life was hard, but that was when he had smiled the most.

But there are no ’what ifs’ in life.

His adoptive father died, Silly’s Mom was killed, and after he and Chloe lived in the cellar for several months, they finally left this place.

He came to a mound of earth—a grave with no headstone.

He suddenly dropped to his knees, his eyes bloodshot. "Mom," he cried out, "your son is back. Forgive your son for not coming back to see you all these years, for not telling you how I’ve been."

Lillian Bancroft paused, then continued, "Chloe is happy now. We were the ones who kept her captive. I’ve let her go and chosen to bless her from afar. Maybe you’d call me a fool, but I don’t regret it. Her child is almost four now. Her name is Dorothy, and she’s a little girl who looks a lot like Chloe. Mom, I won’t move your grave. Your son doesn’t want you to be in a noisy place. You’ll have peace here. Your son understands everything you did for me. In my heart, I will always be grateful to you and Dad."

Then, he stood up and walked toward the cellar.

The cellar was just as he remembered it. No one had been there. The bedding was still there below, along with the pot they used to use. The rations had long since molded and spoiled, leaving only a faint trace behind.

Lillian Bancroft lay down in the spot where Chloe Marshall used to sleep, his heart aching with sorrow.

Without realizing it, he closed his eyes.

"Silly?"

Lillian Bancroft sat up. He was still inside the small shack. Seeing Silly’s Mom before him, he called out, "Mom."

"I hear someone calling for help not far from here. Go see who it is," Silly’s Mom said to him, standing by the bed as she always had.