Chapter 484 Read Me, Remember Me
The winter night cut to the bone, wind sharp as a knife.
Matthew stood in the hallway, feeling powerless for the first time in his life. A voice broke the silence behind him, "Mr. Moore?"
"Who's there?" Matthew whirled around.
A delivery man stood holding a tombstone, offering it with careful hands. "This is from Ms. Miller. She sends her condolences."
A storm brewed in Matthew's eyes. He hurled it to the ground, trampling it in an uncharacteristic display of rage. The message was clear: if he continued pursuing Oliver, Sarah would target Nicholas again.
She was truly ruthless.
Aaron rushed over, stunned by the scene. "What happened?"
Matthew tilted his head back slightly. "Pause the interrogation of Oliver, but keep him detained on some pretext. And create some problems for the Windsor Group."
Aaron, sensing the situation, cautiously advised, "They're still family. Perhaps we should leave room for reconciliation?"
Matthew's face darkened. "Reconciliation? When she pushed Nicholas to attempt suicide, she left no room for that! She's declared war. I want to see how capable she is without Oliver by her side."
Aaron sighed quietly.
Later, as he got into his car to handle the matter, Aaron discovered Sarah already in the back seat.
Glancing at the driver's impassive face, Aaron realized the man had been bought by Oliver long ago. Unfazed, he smoothed his trousers. "Mrs. Windsor's little stunt really upset Matthew."
Sarah smiled faintly.
She took a check from her purse and extended it to Aaron. When he hesitated, she spoke softly, "I don't know why you betrayed Matthew in the past, but someone with your qualifications isn't likely Oliver's plant. Which means you're someone else's eyes and ears—perhaps Matthew's superior, or his rival."
"That doesn't concern me. My husband is just a businessman. Our conflict with Matthew is personal. Whatever power struggles you're involved in, they're not our affair. One transaction, a lifetime of luxury—the figure on this check says it all."
In the dim car interior, Sarah's face was pale, but Aaron caught a glimpse of Matthew's determination in her expression.
He opened the check—the amount was staggering: five hundred million dollars.
Aaron hesitated. Sarah's eyes glistened as she spoke candidly, "My husband is suffering. This amount is simply to keep him alive. I won't ask anything else of you."
Aaron felt a stirring in his heart. He too had once been young and deeply in love, though unrequited. Sarah and Oliver's devotion made him both envious and nostalgic.
Finally, he accepted the check. "You can count on me, Mrs. Windsor."
Night slowly retreated.
Sarah stepped out of the car. Under the distant stars, she adjusted her expensive coat—no longer the socialite from the Moore family.
She was Oliver's wife now.
Sarah returned to the mansion at five in the morning.
Claire, having put both children to bed, had been anxiously waiting in the hall. Hearing the car, she rushed out. "Sarah, any news about Oliver?"
Though anxious herself, Sarah knew she needed to be the family's pillar in Oliver's absence—to protect the children from harm and worry.
She gently took Claire's arm. "He's safe."
Claire's tension eased slightly.
"Get some rest," Sarah said softly. "I have a plan. I believe we'll get him out soon."
Claire finally relaxed completely. Though she once resented Oliver for hurting Sarah, during those four years they had depended on each other, raising Nicole together. In Claire's heart, Oliver and Sarah held equal places of affection.
Dawn began breaking on the horizon.
Too exhausted to continue, Claire went to bed.
The mansion remained brightly lit as Sarah climbed the stairs to the master bedroom's walk-in closet. She opened a large cabinet containing two imposing safes.
The combination was the first three digits of their birthdays.
Sarah opened them gently.
One safe contained sets of exquisite jewelry—all recently commissioned by Oliver, which Sarah had never seen before. A card inside read: [New Year's gifts for my wife.]
Sarah covered her mouth. That sweet fool.
The other safe held confidential Windsor Group documents. On the top shelf sat a carefully placed manila envelope.
Sarah took it down and opened it.
Inside lay a thick stack of classified documents and a handwritten letter from Oliver addressed to her.
[Sarah,
As you read these words, imagine I am sitting beside you, speaking softly in your ear.
I always hoped you would never have to open this file. If you are reading this, it means both I and the Windsor Group are facing grave danger. There are truths here I would trust only to you—or to Grace, though her life has taken a different path now.
There was a time when I thought little of my own life. But after we truly became husband and wife, I found myself longing to live, to stay by your side for as long as I could.
I have always believed that a husband's duty is to protect and cherish his wife. It pains me deeply to know that I have drawn you into this storm. If there is a day when we meet again, I hope I can make it up to you.
Please, do not weep for me. The thought of your tears breaks my heart more than anything else.
With all my love,
Oliver
October 18th]
October 18th—their wedding day.
Sarah clutched Oliver's letter in both hands, weeping uncontrollably.
Perhaps until now, she had never fully let go of the pain he once caused her. But in this moment, all her lingering resentment was finally, gently smoothed away by the tender hand of time.
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