Chapter 566 - 558: Countdown to the Main Story’s Finale (10)

He hid behind a tree, watching for a moment before walking over to stand beneath her. He tilted his head back and gazed up at her.

Then, the woman in the tree saw him.

Lillian Bancroft pointed at the rope. The woman in the tree nodded at him. He turned toward the tree, but he was moving so slowly that the woman shouted impatiently, "Can you hurry up! Don’t you see I’m about to die up here?"

Startled, Lillian Bancroft immediately untied the rope. He had no time to dodge and was knocked over as her body fell.

Then, he thought, ’She must be so thirsty.’ He sprinted back home, fetched a bowl of water, and brought it to her lips himself.

"You’re... so... beautiful..."

"I’m hungry. Do you have anything to eat?"

"Yes!" Lillian Bancroft was thrilled. "I have some at my place. I’ll take you home!"

Without giving her a chance to protest, he hoisted the woman onto his back and took off at a run, as if he weren’t carrying anyone at all.

He ran through the woods, carrying her to a dilapidated little courtyard, where he began to shout, "Mom! Mom! A wife! I found a wife!"

This was how he met her. But it was here that the story took a turn.

They married without a hitch.

Then came the babies, one after another. The family lived a simple, carefree life in their own private paradise, secluded from the outside world.

The two of them were together, never to be parted.

Their smiles, facing each other, gradually faded until the scene vanished completely.

Then, Lillian Bancroft woke up.

In his slumber, he had lived out his dream. But a dream was just a dream; it could never become reality.

There would be no do-overs; reliving the memories only deepened the sorrow.

A story more tragic than tragedy itself isn’t "I love you but can’t see you." It’s "I love you, but I can only watch you find happiness from afar."

"Supreme Leader!" The persistent calls forced him to climb out of the cellar.

Upon seeing him, the Secretary-General rushed to help him up, looking scared to death.

"We called for you so many times, Sir. Didn’t you hear us? You gave us quite a scare."

Lillian Bancroft handed his suit jacket to him. "I’m fine. Just taking a trip down memory lane. Prepare to return to the Imperial Palace."

The Secretary-General nodded, following a step behind him as they left the place.

"Are you alright, Sir?"

Lillian Bancroft replied flatly, "I’m fine."

He walked between two rows of fir trees and got into the car. The vehicle started moving slowly. With the window down, Lillian Bancroft gazed at the passing scenery, an indescribable feeling washing over him.

’Once I leave this place, I may never be able to return.’

Thinking back on the dream he’d had in the cellar, Lillian Bancroft suddenly felt it had been sent by his old nanny. Perhaps it was her way of helping him find closure.

He boarded the plane once again, this time bound for the Imperial Palace in the Capital.

Lillian Bancroft looked out the airplane window as it ascended, a faint smile on his lips. He seemed to recall the first time he met Chloe. The way their eyes locked—that moment was frozen forever, etched into his heart, where time stood still.

The Sutton Family was considered one of Alveria’s most prominent families, so the wedding of their daughter, Maeve Sutton, was naturally a focus of media attention.

That morning, the sun was already blazing.

Outside the Sutton residence, firecrackers POPPED AND CRACKLED without end.

Ever since returning from the bridal photoshoot, Maeve Sutton had been waiting in her room for William Chapman to arrive and escort her to the wedding.

Mrs. Sutton came in and handed her a red envelope. Maeve immediately tore it open. Her face fell the moment she saw the contents. "Mom, is this it? Only twenty thousand in cash?"

Mrs. Sutton began, "You think twenty thousand is too little? Plenty of daughters get married without a cent from their families. Twenty thousand is a lot. You still have a little brother, you know. It’s not like you’re my only child. Besides, this is from my own personal savings, so don’t be ungrateful."

Hearing it was from her mother’s private stash, Maeve said no more. She clutched the red envelope and tucked it into her clothing.

A servant of the Sutton Family came in to report, "Ma’am, the groom has arrived."

Mrs. Sutton nodded. "Good, send him in."

William Chapman walked in, dapper in a suit and leather shoes. Although Maeve had met him once before, seeing him again now only confirmed her opinion: he really wasn’t much to look at. ’And that big black mole on his face is just...’ she thought, trailing off in disgust.

But he was about to be her husband. It was too late for regrets.

William Chapman gave a lecherous chuckle, stepping forward to grab Maeve’s hand. He pulled her out of the room and didn’t stop until they were in the wedding car.

The wedding procession was a grand affair, filled with celebratory music as it wound through the streets.

Inside the car, William Chapman’s hands were already misbehaving, touching Maeve here and there. Maeve didn’t dare move, forced to let his hands roam freely over her.

The car finally pulled to a stop at the Chapman residence.