NovelEnglishChapter 75
Audrey's POV
Honestly, | couldn't believe what | was seeing. One moment Laurel Rose had been standing there, cornered by
irrefutable video evidence of her lies. The next, she'd dropped to her knees with the kind of tic flair that
would have made Broadway directors weep with envy.
I'm sorry! The words burst from her like a perfectly rehearsed soliloquy.
“I apologize for my arrogant behavior at the gate, she continued, words filled with calibrated remorse. And for
falsely accusing you of lying, nearly costing you your job!” Her voice cracked at exactly the right moment, tears
gathering in her eyes with professional timing.
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The security guard shifted uncomfortably, clearly as taken aback by this performance as the rest of us. Laurel
seized the moment, pressing on with increasing fervor.
‘I've always been known for my gentle nature. This is the first tI've ever acted this way, and look how
quickly karma struck... She pressed one hand to her chest, the picture of sincere contrition. “I sincerely
apologize, and to show my remorse, my assistant will contact you with a ten thousand check. Buy yourself
something nice... consider it compensation for my behavior.”
Her body seemed to wilt like a delicate flower as she delivered her final line: “Once again, | am truly sorry!”
| watched the scene unfold with a mix of grudging admiration and bone-deep exhaustion. Three years of
marriage to Blake Parker had taughtto recognize manipulation when | saw it, but even | had to admit -
Laurel was in a class of her own.
But the real performance was yet to come. As if on cue, Laurel's strength seemed to fail her. She slumped
forward, one hand clutching her chest while the other reached weakly for Blake.
“Laurel!” Blake's voice carried genuine alarm. Together with the guard, Blake helped Laurel to her feet. She
swayed tically, clutching his arm as if it were the only thing keeping her upright.
Blake cradled her head against his shoulder, his protective instincts fully engaged. “Charles! Call an ambulance!”
| caught the butler’s instinctive glance toward William Parker, seeking approval before acting on Blake's order.
The old man’s dismissive wave spoke volumes about his thoughts on this latest melo.
As Charles stepped away to make the call, Laurel turned her face into Blake's chest, her voice dropping to a
theatrical whisper. “Blake darling...”
his
Blake leaned down, his ear close to her lips as she whispered something I couldn't catch. Whatever she said
made his expression soften instantly, protective instincts clearly engaged by her performance. | caught
fragments of words that sounded like “records” and “Europe,” but the rest was lost in their private exchange.
Something cold settled in my stomach that had nothing to do with my actual cancer as | watched their intimate
moment. The way she clung to him, the way he bent so attentively to catch her every word - it was a reminder
of everything I'd lost, everything I'd never truly had.
Laurel's gaze suddenly snapped to me, a flash of something darker beneath her tears, “Miss Sinclair, | gave you
the apology you wanted...” Her voice carried just the right note of wounded innocence. “What more do you want
from me?”
| was confused. “What do you mean, what more do | want?” | could feel my brows drawing together, hands
clenching at my sides. “When you wrong someone, you apologize. Isn't that basic decency?”
‘She’s already ill,” Blake's voice was cold. “Why must you keep targeting her?”
“Targeting her?” These words were so cruel. “You call this targeting? | just want her to take responsibility for
what she’s done and apologize for her mistakes...”
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