Chapter 106

George cautiously inquired, “Master Lucius, why didn’t you tell Ms. Violet that you went to see her?

Lucius responded with a dismissive snort, “Who said I went to see her?”

His ambiguous responses perplexed George, who believed his employer ought to have been more forthright with Violet about his visit.

He found himself frustrated by Lucius’s lack of emotional Intelligence, and was more invested in resolving the situation than his employer.

Despite his denial, Lucius was dissatisfied.

He silently berated himself, wondering how even the butler could discern his true intentions, yet Violet seemed oblivious. Her apparent avoidance since his arrival perplexed him. Did she genuinely not want to see him that much?

Lucius’s frustration only grew with these thoughts.

“What’s the plan now, Master Lucius?” George queried.

“Let’s just head back,” Lucius replied, signaling an end to the discussion.

Naomi took Violet’s advice and quit her work after some internal conflicts, though she could only leave until the month’s end.

Violet was running an errand when she walked by the mall where Naomi worked as a cleaner.

She noticed Naomi stooping down to sweep the floor from a distance, and swiftly approached her.

“Mom!”

Naomi’s face instantly brightened at the sight of Violet. “Oh, Vivi!”

Noting that it was almost noon, Violet proposed, “When do you finish work? Let’s grab lunch together.”

“I’ll be done after finishing up here,” Naomi replied, pausing to massage her back before resuming her task.

Violet seized Naomi’s mop, and started mopping herself.

Naomi hurried to take it back. “A young girl like you shouldn’t be doing this. Let me take that.”

Violet playfully countered, “What’s wrong with a young girl mopping?”

+15 BONOS Naomi, helpless, patted Violet’s head, but didn’t dispute it. She watched from the side, with evident joy and pride.

A passerby cleaner asked Naomi, “Is she your daughter?”

Naomi nodded with pride. “Yes, she is.”

Violet took note of her smug expression, and found it comforting. She began mopping even more diligently.

This conversation was overheard not only by Violet but also by Oliver, who had come down the stairs.

Oliver, having observed this scene from afar, remained hidden in a discreet spot, surprised to see Violet with Naomi and intrigued by their interaction.

Violet was preoccupied with her work, and didn’t notice him. She worked so hard that sweat beaded on her forehead.

In the meantime, the woman Violet referred to as her mother was tenderly wiping the sweat from her forehead with a tissue periodically.

Violet looked up at her and flashed a radiant smile, revealing her sparkling white teeth.

Oliver experienced an unexpected tightness in his chest, feeling strangely captivated by her smile. He quickly gathered himself, and walked away.

His phone rang at that moment; it was Emily.

Their conversation was brief, and just before hanging up, Oliver casually asked, “Has your sister…

found her birth mother?”

“Not at all. I heard from mom that her birth mother vowed never to return to Balaka City or contact her in this lifetime.”

“Really?”

“Why do you ask?” Emily’s voice sharpened, sensing something amiss.

“It’s nothing, just a question,” Oliver replied, shaking his head. He then ended the call and headed in a different direction.

“Vivi, does that man know you? He’s been watching you for some time,” Naomi’s question interrupted Violet’s work.

When she looked up, she spotted it was Oliver.

+15 BOHOS Oliver’s gaze upon her was cold and distant, a change since Emily blamed her for the damage to her vocal cords. Since his awakening, this man has never looked at her with the warmth he once had.

Noticing her glance, Oliver came over and asked, “Can we talk?”

Violet was hesitant, but Naomi grabbed the mop away, and suggested, “There’s a café over there. It’s quiet enough for you two to converse there.”

Keen to keep their troubled history hidden from Naomi, Violet headed towards the café, with Oliver following. He was on a call, giving instructions to his staff to send a wrapped cup to the café.

The two entered the café one after the other, and found a table to sit at comfortably. The atmosphere was tense.

Without consulting Violet, Oliver ordered two lattes, knowing from their past that she liked this flavor.

Violet held her latte, uncertain about how to engage with Oliver.

A staff member from the mall approached, handing Oliver a transparent box containing a cup. “Mr.

Young, your cup.”

The sight of the cup sparked a glimmer in Violet’s eyes. She had bought that cup for Oliver during his coma, and had used it to give him water for a whole year.

“Oliver, you…”

Oliver interrupted her and asked sharply, “Did you just call that woman Mom?”

Upon hearing his question, Violet affirmed with a nod. “Yes.”

Her gaze stayed locked on the cup, emblematic of all the affection she held for him. The care he showed for it, even going as far as to wrap it, made her ponder…

“That woman’s probably not your biological mother, is she?” he asked directly.

Brought back to reality by his odd tone, Violet acknowledged, “No, she isn’t my biological mother.”

Oliver’s face grew somber, and he reprimanded her, “What are you trying to do, Violet? You’re causing pain to your own sister while showing kindness to someone unrelated by blood. I can’t make sense of you.”