Chapter 987 The Picked-Up Trash
This Christmas, Blake had specifically pushed back all his work commitments just to spend time with Abella. His upcoming schedule was packed—a new album release, concert tours, countless endorsement deals, advertisements, movies, TV series, and variety shows.
"My manager deliberately cleared a slot in my schedule," Blake explained. "Once Abella's identity goes public, we'll definitely get invitations to appear on shows together. My manager is actually meeting with Abella's team about this today."
"You want to take Abella on a reality show?" Everyone looked shocked, and their unanimous response was immediate: "Absolutely not!"
Appearing on reality TV would mean exposing every aspect of Abella's life to public scrutiny. They refused to let their precious princess become fodder for critics and gossips.
"Don't panic, it's just an idea," Blake said calmly.
"No way!" came the collective refusal again.
Blake fell silent, but shot a subtle glance at Abella. She curved her lips slightly, as if they'd reached some secret understanding. She didn't mind—if Blake needed her support, she was willing to tie her career to his and help him achieve global stardom.
Meanwhile, at the estate, Lola had cried herself to sleep in Henry's arms. When she opened her eyes the next morning, only Briar and an unfamiliar servant were keeping watch by her bedside.
"Ms. Lola Medici, you're awake?" Briar was the first to notice, flashing her youthful, endearing smile. "Shall I help you with your morning routine?"
Noticing Lola's curious gaze toward the other servant, Briar cheerfully introduced her. "This is Celestia—we'll both be taking care of you."
Lola nodded, then asked, "Where's Henry?"
"He had an urgent matter to handle, but it's Christmas Day—he'll definitely be back for dinner with you!" Briar assured her.
Both servants immediately brought water, toothbrush, toothpaste, and towels. "Ms. Medici, your bandages can't get wet. Let me help you brush your teeth," Briar offered.
After finishing, Celestia approached with a warm towel. "Ms. Medici, I'll help you wash your face. Does this hurt?"
Her movements were incredibly gentle. Lola shook her head, letting them tend to her. Once her morning routine was complete, Briar and Celestia wheeled in two clothing racks.
"It's Christmas Day, Ms. Medici. Which outfit would you like to wear?" Briar displayed each garment for Lola's consideration. "These are all from Mr. Henry Hall. I watched him scrolling through his phone, selecting each piece personally and having them delivered to the estate. We've had everything cleaned and pressed."
"Speaking of which, Mr. Hall treats you so well," Celestia couldn't help but gush. "We've never seen him care for anyone like this. You're the first, Ms. Medici."
Lola's gaze swept over the beautiful clothes, remembering how the Medici family used to commission the most exquisite custom garments for every Christmas. Compared to those bespoke creations, these outfits—while designer pieces—were clearly several tiers below, mass-produced rather than tailored to her measurements.
Henry probably didn't understand such distinctions. Unlike ordinary families, or even typical wealthy households, the Medici family had always been extravagantly generous, making every holiday spectacular with one-of-a-kind everything.
Compared to previous years filled with joy and celebration, this Christmas left Lola feeling listless. Her voice carried a note of dejection. "No, thank you."
She didn't want to change. What difference would wearing beautiful clothes make in her current state? This year, there would be no friends surrounding her, praising her beauty or envying her couture and lifestyle. No suitors would be dazzled by her elegant appearance. No one would seek her favor or revolve around her.
"You should still change—new year, fresh start. This red outfit would suit Ms. Medici perfectly. You'd look so elegant. Won't you try it?" Briar coaxed.
Under Briar's gentle persuasion, Lola eventually agreed to a black holiday ensemble instead of red—out of respect for her recently deceased biological parents.
Celestia knelt to slip beautiful new shoes onto Lola's feet. Lola was surprised that Henry even knew her exact shoe size.
Briar and Celestia helped her into the wheelchair and took her downstairs for breakfast. After the meal, Briar suggested, "Ms. Medici, since Mr. Hall isn't back yet, shall I take you to the garden for some fresh air? You could see more of the estate."
Lola nodded. In the garden, she was astonished to discover flower beds filled with the same rare varieties that had graced the Medici estate.
"How did Henry know I loved these particular species, and in such variety?" Lola was genuinely amazed.
Had he paid such close attention during his previous visits to the Medici house? But with so many plants and flowers there, how could he possibly know which specific varieties were her favorites?
"According to Mr. Hall, these were all discarded by the Medici family and left outside their gates. He had them collected and brought here," Briar explained matter-of-factly. "That night, along with these flowers, many other items related to you were delivered as well, Ms. Medici."
"What did you say?" Lola's eyes widened in shock. "Take me to see them."
Briar wheeled her to a guest room. The moment the door opened, Lola's gaze fell upon shelves displaying all the trophies, medals, and certificates she'd earned throughout her life. These discarded remnants of her achievements had been cleaned and carefully arranged, as if this room was their true home.
Beyond these accolades lay everything she'd ever given to the Medici family—paintings for her brothers, handwritten letters, birthday cards she'd crafted herself. Every single item was there, not one missing.
"The Medici family threw all of this away?" Tears streamed down Lola's face as disbelief overwhelmed her. They had discarded everything!
With her barely functional fingers, she picked up one of the paintings she'd created for her brother. Having been left outside, the artwork was stained and marked with indelible smudges—much like her happy memories with her brothers, now irreparably damaged and beyond recovery.
Ruined. All of it ruined.
"Yes," Briar confirmed. "These were all thrown away, unwanted. That's why Henry sent vehicles to collect them."
Lola examined the gifts she'd given the Medici family over the years—watches, lighters, decorative pieces. Memories flooded back, and tears poured uncontrollably down her cheeks. How could they do this? How could they bear to?
Even if she had made mistakes, what about the love she'd shown them as a child? They could reject who she was now, but how could they also deny the innocent, pure-hearted child who had seen only them in her world?
Back then, she had truly considered them family. Every painting, every handmade birthday card represented her genuine affection. How could they trample on that sincerity so callously?
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