Chapter 958 Hoping She Squanders
Abella noticed his emotional state and smiled as she explained, "I didn't know you were my brother back then, so I hadn't had the chance to design anything specifically for you. I just happened to pass by QY and picked out a few pieces that would suit you... nothing custom-made. I'll make time to create something special for you."
"Then make me several outfits!" Dennis refused to be outdone by Ethan, who had been deliberately flaunting the clothes Abella designed for him—such childish behavior!
"Are you trying to exhaust Abella? She's swamped with work every day. You should be grateful for whatever she can manage..." Ethan protested.
"Since you're so concerned about overworking Abella, why don't you give me some of the outfits she designed for you? You're always away on missions anyway—it's not like you have time to wear them at home."
"As if you're home any more often than I am."
"I could take them with me to Britonia!"
Watching her brothers bicker, Abella intervened with gentle exasperation. "Enough, both of you. I'll make time to design for everyone—no one gets left out. I need to go upstairs and process some audio files now."
"Abella..." Ethan called out urgently, stopping her mid-stride. "I'm sorry for all the pain you endured before. If I had known what kind of person she truly was, I would have thrown her out of the Medici Villa back in our school days."
The memory still haunted him—Lola's friends had been spreading vicious rumors about Abella behind her back, which Camila had overheard and reported to Ethan. When he confronted Lola at school, her tearful breakdown and desperate pleas had softened his heart. He had chosen not to tell the family, giving her what he thought was a chance at redemption.
If only he had known she would become so utterly depraved, so unrecognizable... He should never have shown mercy, never let eighteen years of shared history cloud his judgment. Now his misplaced compassion had nearly cost Abella her life.
"Don't blame yourself, Ethan. None of us—not a single person in this household—could have predicted she would become such a monster. Besides, I wasn't seriously hurt," Abella reassured him.
"That's not true—the wound on your arm hasn't healed yet," Dennis immediately contradicted her. "Have you been applying the medication properly these past few days? If it's difficult to change the dressing yourself..."
"Don't worry, Dennis. Phillipe helps me with it."
Dennis felt a sharp pang of disappointment at her words.
"Abella's injured? When did this happen?" Ethan had only seen the surveillance footage from the front of the abandoned building—he knew nothing about the explosion or Dennis pulling Abella to safety.
"Dennis injured his head and back saving me, and his surgical incision from the heart operation probably reopened too," Abella explained, turning her concerned gaze to Dennis. "I'll get you some healing ointment later—it'll help you recover faster and more completely."
"Those scratches are nothing to me," Dennis said dismissively, though his heart warmed at her concern. He ruffled her hair affectionately. "Go handle your work. Don't worry about me—I could take a direct hit from artillery and still be standing!"
"Just wait a moment, Dennis." Abella extended her hand expectantly. "My tablet, please."
Dennis immediately returned the device he'd been holding.
As Ethan watched Abella disappear upstairs, he couldn't help but ask, "What exactly happened between you two?"
The realization that Abella and Dennis had shared a life-or-death experience gnawed at him. Did that mean their bond was deeper than his own relationship with her?
"Tell me about the school incident first, then I'll share what Abella and I went through," Dennis proposed. He had caught fragments of their earlier conversation and was curious about the details—and perhaps a bit regretful that he had returned home so late, missing opportunities to create meaningful memories with Abella.
No sooner had Abella reached her room than Phillipe's call came through.
"What are you working on? I haven't heard from you in hours," his voice carried gentle concern.
Abella recounted the day's events before explaining, "I'm processing audio files now."
"I'll let you focus then," Phillipe said reluctantly, unwilling to interrupt her work. "I'll call you back later."
"Alright."
After she hung up, Phillipe stared at his phone screen, which displayed a flood of WhatsApp messages from his family. They had been bombarding him with questions: Had he invited Abella to spend Christmas with the Bourbon family? What was her answer? Did she have other holiday plans? They wanted to take her traveling abroad, but what should they get her for Christmas? What were her current interests?
Growing impatient with Phillipe's silence, Ryan was the first to call directly.
"What on earth are you so busy with that you can't answer a simple message?" Ryan's frustration was palpable.
"I'm waiting for Abella to finish her work before asking," Phillipe replied calmly.
"Christmas is practically here and she's still working? Is this business-related? You call yourself her fiancé, but you're not even helping shoulder her burden! All you do is wait around passively. What was the point of all the Bourbon family's investment in your education if you can't even assist with her work? You're failing miserably as a future husband!"
Phillipe remained silent under the criticism.
"Working at this hour, at her age—the weight on her shoulders is already crushing," Ryan continued, his voice heavy with concern. "I can't exactly tell her to drop everything and just enjoy life... she'd find that meaningless and empty. How can we get her to slow down, to live for herself for once?"
He would be thrilled if she chose a life of leisure and luxury, but knowing Abella's driven nature, she would never stop pushing herself.
"She knows her limits. I'll ask her when she's finished," Phillipe assured him.
"Make sure she's taking care of herself—drinking enough water, eating fruit, not pushing too hard. Christmas is coming..." Ryan rattled off a litany of concerns before sighing to his wife as he prepared to hang up. "Abella's still working... Maybe we should pull some strings, get her some lucrative contracts so she can earn what she needs faster and take a break."
Perhaps if she reached her financial goals sooner, she might allow herself some rest—even just a few days would be something.
Before Phillipe could object to any interference in Abella's work, the line went dead.
Abella had just finished processing the audio when urgent knocking interrupted her brief respite.
"Ms. Medici, the master collapsed after hearing about Miss Lola's actions—he's unconscious!" a servant gasped.
Abella opened her door, puzzled. Her grandfather had learned about Lola's betrayal days ago—why would he suddenly collapse now?
"Your grandparents have arrived..." the servant panted, struggling to catch her breath.
Understanding dawned on Abella as she hurried downstairs, the servant trailing behind her with breathless explanations.
"They arrived over an hour ago. When Mr. Ethan Medici and Mr. Dennis Medici mentioned you were working upstairs, they insisted we not disturb you... They wanted to wait until you were finished before asking you to come down. But when they heard the full extent of Miss Lola's betrayal, the master fainted from shock, and the mistress is still weeping."
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