Chapter 219 When the door to the private dining room swung open, Hamilton turned around.
Greysen raised an eyebrow and took a seat at the table.
"How did it go?" Hamilton asked, lighting up a cigarette, his voice veiled in a cloud of smoke and a hint of bitterness.
Greysen signaled the waiter to bring over a bottle of wine.
Pouring a glass for himself and one for Hamilton, he sighed, "Sorry, Mr. Fowler, I couldn't get it done." Hamilton paused, the cigarette between his fingers frozen mid-air. Then, after a moment, he chuckled bitterly, walked over, clinked his glass against Greysen's, and downed his drink in one go. "Still, thank you." Greysen smiled, "Mr. Fowler, you don't seem surprised at all." Leaning back in his chair, Hamilton poured himself another glass and drank it down quickly, then laughed.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Yes, she only talks business now. Anything that's not a solid deal, she's not interested." Greysen clicked his tongue in amazement, "It's rare to find someone you can't sway, Mr. Fowler." Hamilton just offered a wry smile in response, his phone buzzing with a message.
It was from Natalia.
After glancing at it, he set his phone aside and poured another glass of wine. Greysen had barely touched his drink, leaving Hamilton to finish the bottle alone.
All she had for him was thanks, but that was the last thing he wanted now.
Greysen watched Hamilton in silence, understanding the man better than most. Despite Hamilton's reputation for being ruthless and cold, here he was, caught up in his feelings. Love was unpredictable, and experiencing its trials was a rite of passage.
Hamilton had clearly drunk too much. Greysen decided to take him back to his apartment.
The housekeeper was surprised to see Hamilton reeking of alcohol. "Mr. Fowler, why did you drink so much? Cin, I'll make you scoffee to sober up." Hamilton didn't respond, just changed his shoes, pausing when he noticed something.
"Where are Natalia's slippers?" The housekeeper was puzzled, "Ms. Jenkins took her slippers when she moved out, didn't she?" Hamilton sat by the door, lost in thought. She had taken all her belongings when she left, leaving behind everything he had given her.
"Mr. Fowler," the housekeeper called him back to the present.
"Buy a new pair, just in case," he instructed before heading inside.
He didn't go to his bedroom but to the bar, where he could see the wilted flowers on the balcony. He had never known Natalia liked those flowers; he hadn't planted them for her. The realization pained him.
"How much does it hurt to lose a child?" he murmured to himself, the housekeeper unsure of how to respond.
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Hamilton was confronting his feelings head-on, realizing too late realizing t that what he had offered Natalia was E never what she truly wanted. Now, he was ready to give her everything, but she no longer wanted it.
Back at her office, Natalia was briefing Ronin on their next moves since their deal hadn't gone through.
Ronin, seemingly more invested in her personal life than the business, couldn't hide his feelings for her. But Natalia made it clear they weren't a match, citing their age difference, the however minor, as a barrier. After Ronin left, Natalia checked her phone again, the message she had sent.
Hamilton still unanswered. She hesitated before calling him, needing to thank him for his help with Gideon.
Hamilton answered, his voice hoarse from drinking. Natalia, concerned, asked if he had been drinking.
"Yes, had sbusiness," Hamilton replied, masking the pain in his voice, "Is there something you need, Ms. Jenkins?"
Natalia paused for a moment, her voice a soft murmur, "Gideon's matter, thanks for that, and for today too. Even though it's hard forto accept, I'm still grateful to you, Hamilton. Thank you." Hamilton let out a chuckle, the warmth in his voice wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. "If you really want to say thanks, how about you cover and cooka meal, Natalia? I've been craving your cooking."