Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

Her eyes were sharp and clear-cut, with just a hint of a curve at the corners, and the look in them was nothing but teasing, like a little fox that just snuck a taste of something forbidden.

Maxwell's brows started to knit together as he recalled Rosemary's words from before about not letting him have his cake and eat it too.

While he was caught up in that thought, the auctioneer fired up again, counting off with a passion.

Rosemary threw up her paddle once more, bidding the bare minimum just like she was toying with a cat.

The other folks interested in the bracelet caught a whiff of the tension in the air and decided to back off, figuring it wasn't worth making enemies over a piece of jewelry.

Victoria was gritting her teeth, her complexion flipping between pale and flushed, as she realized Rosemary's game. She didn't place another bid, and in the end, the bracelet went to Rosemary.

The auction rolled on, but she stood up and left the scene.

As an art restorer, Rosemary was used to handling the kind of jewelry that ancient nobility wore, intricate and beautifully crafted, far beyond the simple diamond-encrusted baubles of today. She glanced at Pearl, who was still buzzing with excitement, and didn't suggest leaving. Instead, she leaned in and whispered, "Pearl, I'm gonna hit the restroom."

Pearl said, "Alright, have Maxwell go with you."

Rosemary shot that down fast. She'd have to be bonkers to bring Maxwell along to the loo. She thought Victoria had already taken off, but lo and behold, she ran into her again by the sinks.

Talked about bumping into the last person you want to see!

Rosemary washed her hands, her face a mask of calm, not a trace of the cutthroat bidding war that had just taken place.

Victoria clenched her fists, her eyes drilling into her, "Rosemary, did you do that on purpose?"

"Yes."

Without even looking up, Rosemary admitted it plain as day.

"I've never wronged you. I like Maxwell, sure, but I was playing fair and square."

"Fair and square like when you schemed to buy my painting?" Rosemary cut her off, clearly annoyed, "Victoria, just for that, I could squash you like a bug and still not be satisfied."

The whole painting fiasco ended with insufficient evidence and a public apology from a classmate, but it still tarnished her reputation. She'd been turned down by a couple of studios and companies since graduating.

Victoria let out a bitter laugh, "Rosemary, do you know who leaked those photos of you and Maxwell in a hotel room to the media?"

It was Stacey who had confessed. But Victoria's tone hinted at more to the story. Rosemary didn't say a word, and just watched her calmly, waiting for her to spill the beans.

"In Greenwood, who would dare expose Maxwell's dirty laundry without his say-so? And keep it in the headlines for days on end." Victoria looked down her nose at Rosemary, trying to read her face, but all she got back was a stony expression, "Back then, I insisted on going abroad despite his pleas, even willing to break up with him. What do you think his reason was for leaking those photos?"

Rosemary could only think it was to make Victoria jealous and force her back.

"Clinging to a man who doesn't love you, Rosemary, how pathetic."

No sooner had she finished than Rosemary's hand flew up to slap her. Victoria didn't expect the slap, her eyes wide with shock as she stumbled back a few steps.

But she forgot she was in sky-high heels and lost her balance, twisting her ankle. "Ah." She winced in pain, bending down to rub her swollen ankle.

As she did, Rosemary's raised hand was caught by a man's hand that reached over from behind. The grip was firm, undoubtedly male.

She had a hunch about who it was. She turned around; yep, it was Maxwell.

Brows furrowed, his face was a thundercloud, his eyes locked on her.

Rosemary forced a light smile, her tone airy, "You and Victoria, you're a match made in heaven, both so revolting."

Maxwell, confused by the sudden attack, glared back, teeth clenched, "Rosemary, there's a limit to your tantrums. Remember where we are." Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

The journos were lurking around. If they had caught that scene, along with the intentional bidding at the auction, those paparazzi would've twisted the story six ways from Sunday for clicks.

Victoria had a ton of fans. A little spin and Rosemary could be the target of a massive online backlash.

Without waiting for him to explain, Rosemary yanked her hand away, spitting out harsh words, "Since you two are such a great duet, why not just lock it down? For old times' sake, cut me some slack."

Maxwell stared at her, repeating his mantra, "Forget about the divorce. The moment we got hitched, I never planned on swapping our marriage certificate for a divorce paper."

Of course, Rosemary didn't buy it. They got the marriage certificate with the condition that they signed a divorce agreement to be enacted three years later. If he never intended to split, why the agreement?

She pulled out the car keys and threw them at him, "Chew on that. Even ghosts wouldn't believe your story."

She walked away, not sparing another glance for the pair.

Victoria, ankle swollen, kept quiet, just silently standing there. Wearing her injuries silently, not fighting, not fussing, her quiet demeanor more heartbreaking than any tantrum.

Maxwell said, "I'll have someone from the hotel take you home."

"Alright."

As Maxwell chased after Rosemary's retreating figure, Victoria nearly snapped her teeth in rage, but she kept it in check. Only after they were out of sight did she let out a self-mocking smirk.

That moment was caught by a journalist hiding in the shadows.

Rosemary didn't return to the auction hall. She texted Pearl that she was pacing out and left the hotel straight away.

A black SUV was idling right by the hotel's glass doors, the engine humming a low buzz, the car's slightly shaking body blocking most of the entrance.

Just as she was about to curse whoever lacked this basic decency, the window rolled down and there was Hogan, head tilted, "Get in, I'll give you a lift."

"Nah, I'll just grab a cab."

No matter how tight they were back in the day, years apart have added a layer of rust to the friendship.

Rosemary wasn't really into imposing on others. Hogan glanced over her shoulder and noticed Maxwell striding their way. He quipped, "Or maybe you'd rather hitch a ride with him?"

Rosemary turned and locked eyes with Maxwell. Even without a word spoken, Maxwell read the situation loud and clear from her expression, shooting her a “don't you dare” look.

With that last bit of hesitation wiped clean, Rosemary decisively swung open the passenger door of Hogan's car and hopped in.