Chapter 412 Oliver, Jokes On You
The spring breeze was intoxicating, and shards of glass lay scattered around.
Under the dim light, Oliver's face was a mask of despair. In that moment, a whirlwind of thoughts raced through his mind.
He realized Sarah wasn't that man's daughter.
He also thought he could have been happy. Sarah was never the daughter of his enemy; she was innocent from the start.
Back then, watching her fall in love had been thrilling.
Now, it was agonizing.
Oliver raised his hands and looked at Sarah again. His eyes were filled with bitterness, his heart heavy with sorrow. All these years of joy and pain had been a one-man show.
Sarah was Matthew's daughter.
This fact shattered him. The most unbearable reality was knowing that Sarah entering the Moore family meant she would likely part ways with him, Oliver.
That was Matthew's intention.
At that moment, Oliver no longer looked as confident and spirited as he was.
He watched Sarah in the night and asked softly, "Sarah, do we still have a chance?"
Sarah's hand twitched.
He didn't let go.
He held her delicate hand, thinking that Sarah was still his wife. How could she stop being his wife just because she became Matthew's daughter?
He wouldn't let go. He couldn't let go.
He stared at her, and she looked back at him.
After a long while, she whispered, "I never wanted you."
She said it so gently, "I don't want you anymore."
She wore a blue designer dress, looking as beautiful and shy as ever. But she didn't want him anymore. She said it without a trace of reluctance, as if announcing their final ending.
Oliver took a step back.
Behind him was an ancient laurel tree, its leaves blocking most of the light, leaving only a few scattered spots on his handsome face, flickering.
Even at this moment, he still held Sarah's hand tightly, unwilling to let go.
Nearby, Isabella said softly, "Mr. Windsor, whatever you have to say, save it for another day. Tonight is important for both Dad and Sarah. You should understand that, Mr. Windsor. You don't seem like someone who gets caught up in romantic entanglements."
Oliver suddenly let go.
The blue figure gradually faded away. He stood behind her, and after a long time, he clutched his aching heart.
Across the way, there was joy and laughter.
But he stood in the shadows, trying to grasp the remnants of their relationship. But Sarah had said she didn't want him anymore.
He walked to the bustling crowd.
He watched as she was cherished by the powerful Matthew. From now on, she was the only precious daughter of the Moore family. Even Claire held Jacob on stage, proudly announcing that he was the third-generation young master of the Moore family. Nicole was also brought on stage, and Matthew personally put a lucky charm on her.
But no one mentioned him, Sarah's husband.
Of course!
He was just a guest in the Moore family, not family!
A waiter passed by, and Oliver grabbed a glass of red wine, downing it in one gulp.
He drank a lot, eventually unable to stand.
Zoey supported him, gently comforting him, "Mrs. Windsor becoming the daughter of the Moore family doesn't change your marriage. Mr. Windsor, there's a long road ahead."
"Marriage?"
Oliver repeated the word.
Then he laughed softly, "Does she still see me as her husband? I've begged her for so long, and she won't even look at me. She returned to the Moore family to get away from me, didn't she?"
He raised his glass, looking at the deep red liquid.
He murmured to Zoey, "If I were sober now, I should divorce Sarah immediately, return her to the Moore family, and let her live comfortably. Because of Jacob, the Windsor Group would receive some benefits from Mr. Moore... But Zoey, I've had too much to drink. How can I be sober?"
He wasn't sober. He didn't want to let go.
Night fell.
Sarah checked on the two children and returned to the master bedroom to wash up and remove her makeup.
She changed out of her expensive dress, took off her jewelry, and used half a bottle of shampoo to wash out the hair gel. She stepped out of the bathroom in a moon-white silk robe.
Despite a busy day, she still insisted on her skincare routine.
In the large mirror,
In the large mirror, her hair fell over her shoulders, her skin glowing softly. Thanks to a comfortable life, she looked gentle and relaxed. As she reached for her skincare products, her expression was serene.
The wind rustled the window panes, making a soft, whispering sound.
Sarah didn't pay it any mind.
She continued applying her skincare products and even played classical music. She enjoyed the quiet night.
The window was opened by someone.
Oliver stood at the window, his chiseled features highlighted by the night, making him look even more striking. His hair moved with the night breeze, and his eyes, deep and unfathomable, were fixed on her.
Sarah looked at him too.
She leaned back in her chair, not daring to move. She couldn't predict what he would do.
After a while, Oliver spoke hoarsely, "Should I congratulate you, Mrs. Windsor?"
He climbed through the window.
He locked the doors and windows, came to her, and before she could react, he grabbed her wrists. He half-held her, and they both fell onto the soft sofa.
He smelled of alcohol,
But his eyes were exceptionally clear, filled with a crazed desire and longing for her. He thought it and did it.
He kissed her neck wildly.
Sarah struggled frantically, refusing to submit.
Oliver's eyes turned red.
Sarah gasped for breath.
She didn't want him!
Her body didn't want him!
Oliver stopped. His blue eyes stared at her. He didn't continue. He slowly pressed his body against hers, his face close to her ear.
He was so hot, his breath scorching.
He murmured, "You went back to the Moore family to divorce me, didn't you?"
"Yes!"
Sarah answered firmly.
He was dazed for a moment, then asked again, "Is that so?"
"Yes! I want to divorce you. I want to leave you! That's why I went back to the Moore family. From now on, I'll have many family members and lots of love..."
"And you?"
"What have you given me? Besides hurt, just countless women outside! You always say you like me, but you don't. You only like this body."
"Over time, your hatred faded."
"So, I lost my appeal to you."
"So you left me at Dawnstar."
Sarah lay back, almost whispering, "After all these years, you still don't understand what liking someone means?"
"And you do?"
"You learned it from Lester?"
"You raised his child, and I accepted it. I even treated that child well... Sarah, in your heart, am I just a despicable man who only thinks about having sex with you?"
"Yes!"
The doors and windows were locked.
There was no wind in the bedroom, but Oliver felt a chill on his forehead. He suddenly let go of her, pulling away from her side. He sat next to her, speaking softly, "You don't need to call anyone. I'll leave right away."
He sat under the pale pink glass lamp, his eyes red, like a child without a home.
He pleaded with her one last time, "Sarah, can you give me one more chance? I won't do anything you don't like. I'll give you everything you want. There won't be any more women. I won't sleep with anyone else... Can you?"
Sarah was still lying on the sofa, her legs weak.
She murmured, "No."
The moonlight was as pale as water.
Their circumstances had changed.
After Oliver left, he went to a club and drank himself into a stupor. The manager there knew him well and had seen the news, knowing that his wife had become the Moore family's daughter and now lived at the Moore Mansion, not returning home.
The manager was very considerate.
He sat next to Oliver, comforting him with "Mr. Windsor" at every turn. He signaled to the girl at the door, saying, "She just graduated, was looking for a job, and only stayed here temporarily."
He added, "Very clean!"
Oliver wasn't interested. He waved them away, but then he froze.
The girl looked a lot like Sarah in her early twenties.
Actually, his Sarah was only 25, but after marriage and childbirth, she wasn't as fresh and tender. Her demeanor was gentle and composed, no longer timid and shy.
Oliver leaned back on the sofa, his voice slurred, "Let her in."
The manager smirked.
He knew men couldn't resist such temptation! The same face, a younger body, and clean. What man wouldn't like that?
The girl walked in.
The manager whispered, "Take good care of Mr. Windsor."
The girl timidly agreed. The manager had already instructed her that no matter what Mr. Windsor wanted to do, she couldn't resist. Not only couldn't she resist, but she had to act happy.
The manager said the customer paid for happiness, no sulking allowed.
The private room door closed.
The girl's slender legs under her flower-bud skirt trembled.
She was scared.
Oliver leaned on the sofa, not drinking anymore. He looked at her with a complex gaze, as if he wanted to devour her.
She couldn't read his intentions, so she knelt by his feet, pouring him a drink.
Her slender fingers held the glass, trembling as she brought it to his lips.
It was her first time serving a man.
Oliver didn't move, still staring at her. The wine spilled, wetting her dress. Her wrist was caught by the man. He didn't touch her, just commanded, "Say you love me."
What?
The girl didn't understand.
The manager only said the man paid for happiness. She thought it was about physical things.
But just saying sweet words, wasn't that easier money?
She was thinking, and Oliver took out several stacks of pink bills, stuffing them into her dress. It was humiliating, but she knew it was better than dealing with a rich man's perversions.
She covered her chest, cautiously, whispering like a mosquito.
"I love you."
Soft and sweet, very pleasing.
Oliver suddenly pressed her to his shoulder.
The girl's soft lips touched his ear. His voice was husky, "Call me Oliver, say you love me..."
The girl trembled, calling his name, over and over.
She kept saying she loved him.
Oliver was drunk. He thought the girl in his arms was his Sarah. He held the back of her head, kissing her hard, but then he saw the stack of bills on her chest.
She was a girl from the pleasure house!
Not his Sarah!
Oliver suddenly let go.
He panted, his blue eyes still filled with unspent desire. After a while, he said hoarsely, "Leave! Tell the manager I'm not in the mood tonight..."
The girl was about to cry.
Oliver looked at her. Maybe because her pitiful look reminded him of Sarah, his heart softened. He told her to stay but didn't touch her. He let her sleep on the corner sofa.
He sat on the sofa, drinking strong liquor all night.
At dawn, there was an urgent knock on the private room door.
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