Chapter 302 Cold War! He is Always Lonely!

Their relationship had hit rock bottom.

For a week, Oliver stayed at a hotel and didn't come home. He didn't call Sarah, and Sarah didn't reach out to him either.

As time went on, he started socializing more frequently.

Women began to appear around him.

There were businesswomen, young and pretty girls from clubs, and even some actresses. These women threw themselves at Oliver, some attracted by his looks, others by his money.

Oliver played along with them but never took it seriously.

He still remembered his vows.

As Christmas approached, Sarah showed no signs of backing down. She busied herself with household chores and taking care of the kids, or she was in touch with Everett's wife, working on the gallery opening.

The Windsor Group, at the CEO's office.

Oliver sat on the couch, signed a check, and handed it to Zoey. As he twisted the cap back on his gold pen, he casually asked, "Besides the check, did she ask for anything else?"

Zoey was puzzled. "Anything else?"

Oliver leaned back against the cushion, his long fingers rubbing his chin, and coughed lightly. "Like asking me to come home or something."

Zoey shook her head.

Oliver's mood instantly soured. He waved his hand dismissively. "You can go now."

Just then, a secretary knocked and entered. "Mr. Windsor, Miss Mitchell would like to see you."

Oliver frowned. Miss Mitchell?

He was a smart man and quickly guessed her identity. Normally, he wouldn't bother with such small fry, but he thought about it and decided to see her. "Bring her in."

The secretary smiled sweetly. "Yes, Mr. Windsor."

Soon, the secretary brought in a young woman, who was more than just pretty but had an air of arrogance that didn't suit her age.

As she entered, Oliver, with his long legs crossed, was smoking on the couch. His suit jacket was off, and his well-tailored vest clung to his fit body. The white shirt made his handsome face even more striking.

Felicity had expected Oliver to be a balding middle-aged man over 40. She thought she could easily charm him with her looks and get him to agree to whatever she wanted.

She was confident.

She was the most attractive person in her college department, with countless admirers. She believed that none of the women around Oliver could compare to her.

But when she saw Oliver, she was visibly stunned.

How to describe it,

If Lowell was refined, then Oliver was wild and alluring, exuding a masculine charm that easily made women fantasize.

Felicity was no exception.

After a moment of shock, she pretended to be calm and questioned, "Mr. Windsor, I'm here to ask why you're targeting my boyfriend."

Oliver's blue eyes narrowed. He scrutinized Felicity, trying to find a trace of Lester in her face.

However, Felicity misunderstood.

She thought Oliver was captivated by her looks, which boosted her confidence. At the same time, her heart raced uncontrollably. She felt Oliver's gaze was so intense it could melt her.

After a while, Oliver's voice turned cold, carrying the arrogance of a capitalist. "Who are you? And who is your boyfriend?"

He flicked the ash from his cigarette.

Every move exuded the charm of someone in power.

Felicity was furious. She felt mocked, but she was here to plead, so she had to be patient. "I'm Felicity Mitchell. My boyfriend is Lowell Warren, the hottest star in the entertainment industry these past two years."

"Oh! A celebrity." Oliver's tone was light, with a hint of mockery.

Felicity grew even angrier, she wanted to lash out,

But looking around at the luxurious decor, knowing that a single painting on the wall was worth over a billion dollars,

She knew she couldn't afford to offend Oliver.

In the end, she chose to bow her head. "Mr. Windsor, I'm sorry! If Lowell has offended you in any way, please forgive him. I promise he won't do it again."

Oliver turned and stubbed out his cigarette.

As he stretched his arm, the muscular lines were faintly visible, and the high-end diamond watch at his white cuff blended wildness with refinement, creating a unique masculine charm.

After extinguishing the cigarette, he spoke calmly. "He didn't offend me! He offended my wife! Sarah. Miss Mitchell, you should have heard of that name!"

He laid it out plainly, and Felicity's expression faltered. She said angrily, "Isn't she the one who caused Lester and Alyssa's deaths? The Mitchell family hates her. What's wrong with that?"

Oliver stood up and walked toward her.

Felicity instinctively took a step back.

He stopped in front of her, looking down at her, his voice cold and devoid of warmth. "If someone must be held responsible for Lester's death, it's me! I arranged his marriage to Alyssa. I broke his hand. It was his own fault for not knowing better. Why would he mess with Sarah when he was already married? If he hadn't gotten involved with her, he and his wife wouldn't have ended up dead."

Felicity sneered. "If Lester hadn't provoked her, she'd be blind now."

Oliver adjusted his cuff. "But he did."

He turned to the secretary. "Show her out!"

The secretary immediately escorted Felicity out. "Miss Mitchell, Mr. Windsor's meeting time is up!"

Felicity didn't want to leave. She still tried to plead. "Mr. Windsor, at least issue a statement to restore Lowell's reputation. Otherwise, how can he survive in the entertainment industry..."

Before she finished, a crystal ashtray shattered on the floor.

Felicity was stunned.

Oliver's lips curled into a cold smile. "Reputation? The first time we met, he was eyeing my wife. Who gave him the audacity to do that? Or is it that the men of the Mitchell family just can't control themselves? Go back and tell him this: if he doesn't get himself under control, getting kicked out of the industry will be the least of his worries. Ask him how many lives he thinks he has!"

Felicity was dazed.

It took her a long time to process what Oliver had said.

Lowell eyed his wife? How could that be? Felicity was young and beautiful. How could Lowell be interested in a married woman with children?

She didn't believe it at all.

Felicity left in a hurry.

Oliver looked at Zoey. "Stop the attacks on Lowell. As for his fate... it depends on his luck!"

Zoey asked, "Because of Miss Mitchell's plea?"

Oliver sneered.

No way.

He found such pretentious women annoying.

In the afternoon, he had a golf appointment.

After two rounds, Oliver lost $2 million. Everett, who was with him, warmly patted his shoulder. "Oliver, you are being here but having your heart in another place.! You didn't play well! How about giving me the honor of having a drink to relax later?"

At the mention of relaxing, the men all laughed knowingly.

Oliver smiled faintly.

But he wasn't in the mood, so he politely declined.

On the way back, it started to drizzle.

The black Cayenne's wipers moved back and forth, but as soon as they cleared the rain, new droplets appeared. At a red light, Oliver habitually lit a cigarette and checked his phone.

Sarah still hadn't sent him a message.

No calls either.

He was in a foul mood, his tongue pressing against his cheek, his gaze dark.

The car moved slowly, and by the time he reached the hotel, it was almost dusk. The raindrops on the car window were illuminated by the neon lights, creating a blurry, distorted view.

Oliver turned off the car. He sat inside, playing with his phone. Several times, he almost dialed Sarah's number.

But in the end, he didn't.

He got out of the car, walked through the hotel lobby, and into the elevator, passing through the long, empty corridor... Everything around him was so bustling, yet he felt empty inside.

He thought, if only Sarah would lower her pride, they could reconcile.

But she wouldn't.

Oliver took out his key card, ready to open the door, but his gaze froze.

Ellie was squatting at his door.

She looked disheveled, her wavy hair soaked by the rain, her coat drenched, and her prosthetic limb scattered around her.

Her skirt was half-empty.

Oliver's heart tightened. He walked over slowly, looking down at her, but his tone was gentle. "Why are you back? Didn't we agree you'd stay in Marigoldia?"

Ellie looked up at him, her voice hoarse and pitiful. "Christmas is coming! I am so lonely there, and the servants treat me poorly. They pretend not to hear me... Oliver, please let me come back. I promise I won't interfere with your family life. I just want a home. I won't even ask you to visit me."

She sobbed. "I'm so lonely in Marigoldia."

But Oliver remained unmoved, "You have to leave! I'll have Zoey book the earliest flight for you. And... don't come back again."

He was ruthless, and Ellie cried, covering her face.

But Oliver wasn't completely heartless. Before she left, he booked her a hotel room, called a doctor, and ordered dinner...

Ellie wanted him to stay the night, but he refused.

As he left, Ellie spoke softly behind him. "Oliver, are you happy now? If you are happy, why would you be staying in a hotel? How can a man be happy without a woman to care for him?"

Her words hit Oliver's sore spot.

He paused but didn't stay.

That night, however, the newspapers were filled with his scandal, not with a starlet or a club girl... but with Ellie.

When he took Ellie to the hotel, she sat in his passenger seat.

The photos were candid.

The way he looked at Ellie was captured ambiguously, making it hard to claim innocence.

Their scandal was everywhere, with rumors that the Windsor Group's CEO couldn't forget his old lover, meeting her secretly at night, and even buying her a billion-dollar mansion.

Zoey called, worried. "Mr. Windsor, should we suppress this?"

Oliver had just showered and was wearing a white bathrobe.

He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the endless night, his expression lonely. "No need."

Zoey hesitated.

Oliver hung up. That night, he didn't sleep, drinking and waiting for Sarah's call.

He hoped she'd be jealous.

He hoped she'd ask him to come home. One call from her, and he'd pack up and go home immediately.

But all night, Sarah didn't call.

Ellie came back, but Sarah... seemed indifferent.

As dawn broke, Oliver received a call from Zoey. "Mr. Windsor, it's been raining heavily these days. Flights to Marigoldia are temporarily grounded..."

"Let Ellie stay for now. When the rain stops, send her away." Oliver was in a bad mood and hung up. He downed a large glass of whiskey.

If he had been shameless enough to go back before, now with the Ellie scandal and Sarah's indifference, it was even harder to return.

Two days later, he got drunk at a social event.

He sat in the back seat of the car. When the driver asked where to go, he casually gave an address. When he arrived, he realized it was Ellie's hotel.

Just as he was about to leave,

The hotel room door opened, and Ellie looked surprised. "Oliver, you finally came to see me!"

She stepped forward and hugged him warmly. "Oliver, I missed you so much."
After a One Night Stand with the CEO
Detail
Share
Font Size
40
Bgcolor