[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":10},["ShallowReactive",2],{"viewer-data-2603220ECDF1-599":3},{"id":4,"number":5,"name":6,"content":7,"isLocked":8,"price":9,"hasRead":8},599,41,"Chapter 41: The Morning He Forgot to Leave","\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\u003Cchapter_title>\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The Morning He Forgot to Leave\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\u003C/chapter_title>\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\u003Ctranslation>\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman Griffin pulled on a pair of slate-gray pajamas and climbed into bed.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">In a few hours, the new system launch event would begin. He had already delegated the heavy lifting at the company, yet as he drifted toward sleep, he habitually picked up his tablet to fire off a few final messages.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette Ellis turned off her bedside lamp first.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Seeing the room plunge into darkness, he reflexively locked his screen. Violette was curled on her side under the duvet. Sensing his hesitation, she cracked open one heavy, exhausted eyelid. \"Are you turning in?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Yes.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The moment he answered, he realized he’d only sent half of his last message. He sat back up. \"I need to head to the study for a moment. Get some sleep.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette managed a sleepy nod, but her eyes were already dragging shut, heavy as lead, before he’d even reached the bedroom door. He spent five minutes clearing his inbox. When he returned, she was already dead to the world, curled peacefully on the left side of the bed.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">***\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">With no lingering burdens on her mind, Violette slept remarkably well. She woke up at 10:30 a.m., having clocked a solid eight hours.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Her stomach felt hollow. She rolled out of bed and made for the kitchen with a bare, sleep-tousled face. As expected, there was breakfast warming in the steamer, though no sticky note was left behind. She tilted her head, listening, and was startled by the low murmur of a man’s voice coming from the study.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Wait. Roman was home?\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Wasn’t today the big day for V-Oasis? She had booked a delivery from the florist days ago. Since Roman was allergic to fresh flowers, she’d compromised and ordered a money tree. It was scheduled to be delivered to the launch event under the name of an \"anonymous Ms. S.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">When the phone call ended, Violette knocked on the study door. Roman opened it almost immediately.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Couldn't sleep in a little longer?\" he asked.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette shook her head.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Ate breakfast yet?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She shook her head again.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman let out a soft, dry laugh. \"What’s wrong? Have you become a silent, decorative bride?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">What an outdated trope. Typical of him.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette leaned against the doorframe. \"Why didn’t you go to the office?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Someone keeps looking at me like I’m some kind of heartless capitalist,\" Roman said with a mock-weary shrug. \"Twig, I’m offended.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Her intention hadn't been to drive him to work, but as he uttered the name \"Twig,\" her face flushed a deep, burning crimson, and she reflexively touched her ear. She asked, \"How did you even know that name?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"My sources are simple. Either I heard it from you, or your parents mentioned it by accident.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">For some reason, Roman’s tone felt incredibly measured—almost deliberate. She searched his face for a hint of guile, but his expression was as unreadable as ever.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Did my parents tell you?\" Violette asked.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Fill your stomach first.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He wasn't ready to talk. He ushered her toward the dining room. As Violette ate, Roman picked up the conversation again. He explained that he’d been chatting with Charles Ellis in the living room once, and Charles had let the name slip. When Roman probed further, Charles had laughed, saying, \"We all called her that when she was a little girl. As she got older, she developed some kind of temper and refused to let anyone call her that anymore.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman had laughed it off then, mentioning that he’d had his own rebellious phase at that age, but he’d tucked the name away.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">—Twig.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He finished the story and looked at her. \"Twig is a lovely name. Do you hate it when I call you that?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The sound made her skin prickle. \"No.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"The spring grass is as green as silk, the Qin mulberry bows its verdant twigs,\" Roman recited slowly. \"It is truly a beautiful name.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette felt a sudden, sharp ache in her chest. She froze, lifting her gaze to meet his.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Why are you looking at me like that?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She quickly dropped her eyes, her pulse hammering against her ribs. Was it fate? They had actually used the same line of poetry to interpret the meaning of her name.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">How strange. Was Deepwater having a heatwave? Had the city drifted closer to the equator?\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette fanned her face with her hand. \"I just... I think your poetry reading is, well... quite pleasant.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">It wasn't just his reading; it was the way his voice made anything he said sound like a benediction. His privileged upbringing gave him an inherent, effortless grace—he was always composed, always deliberate. To Violette, he was the picture of a refined gentleman, though she had no idea that to others, that same calm, cold tone was as chilling as a frost-covered mountain peak.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">With the \"mountain peak\" home, she didn't bring up the launch event again.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">That afternoon, they wandered through the Deepwater Art Gallery. By the time they stepped out, the sun was already bleeding into the horizon.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette was just wondering how they should handle dinner when Roman said, \"It’s New Year’s Day. Want to head over to my place for a meal?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She stood frozen on the sidewalk. \"Why didn't you tell me sooner?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"If I had told you early, you would have spent the whole day spiraling,\" Roman said. \"It’s just a meal. Home cooking. No reason to be nervous.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">So that was why he’d taken the day off.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">But could a dinner at the Griffin estate ever be considered \"home cooking\"? Violette felt her nerves fraying. \"We should... we should stop by the mall. I need to buy a gift.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Not necessary,\" Roman said. \"I’ve already got something in the trunk.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He had truly covered every base. For him, this was just a simple dinner. For her, it felt like an inspection.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The Bentley glided out of the city, winding around South Lake and up into the hills. Past the halfway point, the landscape was punctuated by security checkpoints and high-end private gated zones. Beyond the layers of security lay vast, sweeping golf greens. From the higher elevations, one could overlook the urban sprawl and the shimmering surface of South Lake. Below, tucked into the shoreline, was a small private dock where a few monohull yachts bobbed on the water.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">All of it was Griffin property.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The car climbed until it reached a cluster of white-walled, peaked-roof villas in a subtropical style. The property was encircled by infinity pools; the water’s surface shimmered, reflecting the black lacquer of the Bentley like scattered stars.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Seeing the old butler waiting quietly under the portico, Violette felt her palms turn damp. \"Is there going to be a crowd today?\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman reached across the center console and caught her hand. \"Not many. Just family.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Just family\" sounded like an army to her. She took a deep breath, trying to keep the faces of the Griffin clan from flashing through her mind. Having a father-in-law who wouldn't even crack a smile at his own son's wedding was already terrifying enough.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She couldn't bring herself to think about Patrick Griffin’s stern, unyielding expression.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Perhaps sensing how much she was telegraphing her anxiety, Roman didn't let go of her hand once they stepped out of the car. She tried to pull away twice, but he only tightened his grip.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Try to behave,\" she hissed under her breath, pasting on a polite smile.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">He squeezed her hand even harder. \"If my parents see how close we are, they’ll only be relieved.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette knew less about the Griffin family than she did about Roman. She still couldn't fathom how a family of such status had agreed to this marriage. Even if, as he claimed, his family was anxious for him to settle down, there were plenty of better candidates than her—especially considering her messy, tangled history with Blake Pierce.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Don't worry,\" Roman murmured. \"My father is actually quite kind.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette nodded like a bobblehead doll. \"Uh-huh, sure.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Internally, she was screaming: *That’s such a pathetic attempt at comfort, Roman. Do you even believe that yourself?*\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">When Patrick Griffin appeared on the porch, offered a single, stiff nod to Violette, and then immediately turned his cold gaze on Roman with a clipped \"Come to the study,\" Violette stopped believing entirely.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Roman didn't seem bothered. He politely declined the servants, escorted her to the living room, and leaned down to press a lingering kiss to her temple as a goodbye.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Usually, his little gestures helped her relax. Not today.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Violette’s senses were heightened to the point of pain. She heard the soft thud of footsteps climbing the stairs toward the study, then a pause. She looked up and, through the white jade balustrades of the landing, caught a glimpse of Patrick Griffin’s impeccably tailored trousers.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She felt like she was going to faint right there on the rug.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\u003Cnew_glossary>\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">[]\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\u003C/new_glossary>\u003C/p>",false,0,1774272918454]