Chapter 480 What a Joke
After finishing her meal, Anne was ready to head back to her room.
Willard called out to stop her. "Wait."
Anne ignored him and kept walking, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She stumbled, losing her balance and falling into his arms. Instinctively, she reached out to steady herself and felt something beneath her hand—something that was gradually changing.
Anne jerked away as if she'd been burned. She'd forgotten about the fireplace behind her, and as she stumbled backward toward the flames, a strong force pulled her away. There was a loud crash as she landed on something both soft and firm—Willard's chest. His large frame completely shielded her as they fell.
Before she could react, Quinton arrived with several staff members in tow.
Quinton called out, "Quick, put out the fire! Call the doctor!"
Anne was pulled to her feet in a daze. Only then did she see the scene on the ground clearly. The fireplace had been knocked over, coals scattered across the floor. In the lamplight, she could see Willard's clothes riddled with burn holes, some still smoldering with small flames. She could hardly imagine what his back looked like.
Yet she couldn't bring herself to say anything caring. If he hadn't been grabbing and pulling at her, she wouldn't have fallen, and he wouldn't have crashed into the fireplace.
The doctor arrived quickly, gave Willard emergency treatment, then had Quinton help move him to his room. Anne followed without thinking, unable to process what had happened.
Willard lay face-down on the bed as the doctor carefully removed his burned clothing. He didn't make a sound, but Anne could see him shudder involuntarily when the tweezers touched the areas where fabric had melted to skin.
It must have been excruciating.
She stood nearby with tears in her eyes, unsure what expression to wear or how she should feel.
Quinton glanced at her, thinking Willard was certainly ruthless with himself when it came to winning back his wife.
"Ma'am, you should go rest. I'll keep watch here."
Anne stared at Willard on the bed, wringing her hands and hesitating whether to leave.
"Go get some rest," Willard spoke up, his voice hoarse and trembling slightly.
Anne took a step forward, then reminded herself she'd done nothing wrong. In the end, she turned and left.
Willard watched her go and gave a bitter smile, full of self-mockery.
Quinton stepped forward, looking at the burns on Willard's arms and torso, and sighed. "Sir, this is really..."
His words died under Willard's cold stare, and he wisely retreated to the side.
After treating the wounds, the doctor prepared an IV drip, but Willard stopped him. He tried to get up and change clothes, but the doctor quickly intervened.
"Sir, you can't wear clothes over these wounds right now. The fabric will stick to them again."
Willard glanced at him. "Wrap them with gauze."
The doctor, bound by professional ethics, protested: "Sir, the wounds just received medication. Actually, leaving them exposed is better for healing..."
His words trailed off under Willard's cold gaze. He reluctantly took gauze from his medical bag and began wrapping the wounds.
But he couldn't help adding, "Sir, you really should have the anti-inflammatory IV. It will heal faster..."
This time Willard didn't object. "Later."
After the doctor finished bandaging, Willard changed clothes and went outside. Quinton followed, knowing what Willard intended to do.
"Sir, let me ask Ms. Waverly to come to the beach."
"No need."
Willard walked to the beach where Quinton and his men had arranged fireworks in the sand. Willard's long, nimble fingers flicked open a lighter and ignited the first firework.
Fireworks exploded across the dark sky in brilliant, dazzling colors. Willard looked up toward a specific direction. In the moment the fireworks lit up the night, a silhouette appeared in a window.
Anne couldn't sleep because of what had happened to Willard. As she tossed and turned in bed, her window suddenly blazed with light. She walked to the window and opened it to see fireworks blooming in the night sky.
There seemed to be several figures on the beach, but Willard's tall frame was unmistakable even from this distance.
At first, she was too distracted to watch the fireworks. It wasn't until Willard pointed to the sky that she looked up — and saw the fireworks spelling out the words: "Ann, I'm sorry. Happy Birthday!"
Anne had planned to celebrate this birthday with Lyndon and Elissa. Being brought here by Willard, she'd completely forgotten about her birthday. She glanced at the time—exactly midnight. Her birthday had begun.
The night sky fell silent once more, the moon and stars emerging from behind the smoke. With the bright lights gone, Anne could no longer make out Willard from afar.
The truth was, she had never truly seen him clearly. Her youthful understanding of him now felt like a cruel joke, and she wasn't even sure if what she'd felt back then had truly been love.
Willard, seeing the curtains drawn, lit a cigarette before heading back to his bedroom. The doctor quietly reapplied the medication and restarted the IV. Noticing the heaviness in Willard's mood, he stepped back to the doorway, waiting in silence for the drip to finish.
That night, with only a wall between them, neither found sleep.
Hope didn't crawl out of bed until noon—Jerry had already left for the office. After lunch, she got ready to visit Elissa.
Elissa was home alone. Francis had promised to focus on work properly, and unless it was time for a prenatal checkup, he didn't need to hover at home. Felix would report if anything happened.
"What did Francis say?"
Elissa recounted yesterday's conversation. Hope noticed the marks on her neck and teased, "Looks like you didn't get much information, but you certainly got thoroughly ravished."
Hope pulled her collar closed and swatted at her. "Of course I got information—I gave him incentive. He wouldn't dare hold back."
Elissa drew out a long "Ohhh." She cupped her ear and leaned in. "Quick, I'm all ears."
Hope laughed and swatted her again, then repeated what Jerry had told her. "It's basically the same as what Francis said. He thinks I shouldn't interfere—it's useless. Willard isn't ordinary, and they need to settle things completely."
Elissa fanned herself leisurely with a fan, just smiling at the news.
Hope knew her well enough not to press the topic. She asked what dessert Elissa wanted.
Elissa rubbed her belly and glanced outside. "Nothing. It's too hot."
The weather was warming fast, and Elissa felt it more keenly than most. But unlike others, she had to go easy on cold treats.
"I know you're feeling down. How about I get some shaved ice? You can have just a couple bites?"
Elissa's eyes lit up. "I want some other things too. Can you get them for me?"
Hope refused. "Just the shaved ice. If you don't want it, then nothing at all. It's too hot for me to go shopping, and if you have Felix go, Francis will definitely find out."
Elissa grabbed her hands and shook them back and forth. "Hope, you're the best! I also want some grilled skewers. Please?"
Hope replied, "Didn't Francis grill some for you at home?"
Elissa protested, "That's different. Street food has that special smoky flavor."
Hope said dryly, "Street food isn't very hygienic."
Elissa talked to her belly, "Son, you'd better be extra nice to your future mother-in-law. Mommy can't help you—Mommy's powerless…"
Hope poked her forehead. "Cut it out. Stop being so dramatic. And you don't even know if it's a boy."
Elissa said, "I want our kids to be family. My baby can feel his mom's wishes and will definitely want to make them come true."
"Ridiculous logic." Hope went off to buy what Elissa wanted.
As soon as she got in the car, Jerry called.
"You slacking off again?"
Jerry chuckled. "I can't even call my own wife now?"
Hope had driven herself. She turned on the AC, eager to get the shopping done. "I can't talk now. I'll be home tonight."
Jerry heard the engine starting. "Going out?"
Hope hummed in response. "You know exactly where I go."
Jerry glanced at Francis beside him. "Buy whatever you want—it's on me."
Hope said directly, "Francis is with you, isn't he? Is this guilt? Because of Anne?"
Jerry laughed. "Honey, some things are better left unsaid."
Francis wasn't really at fault. His whole attention was on Elissa, and even though Anne was his sister, he couldn't watch her constantly. Besides, Anne couldn't stay under their watchful eyes forever just to avoid Willard. She had to live her life.
"I'm hanging up. Get back to work."
After the call ended, Jerry pocketed his phone. He sat across from Francis and drained the perfectly temperatured tea from Francis's cup in one gulp.
Francis gave him a flat look and reached for another cup.
Jerry kicked his shin. "Willard's on some private island now. He's not using anyone he knows domestically—the island's owner is foreign. How are you planning to explain this to Lyndon?"
Francis sipped his tea. The heat made everyone irritable, even in the perfectly air-conditioned office. He set down his cup with measured control. "My words won't matter. He needs to see Elissa himself."
Jerry snorted. "Lyndon came back with me and still hasn't gone to see Elissa. That shows he doesn't want her to worry. In the end, he'll still come to you."
Francis reflexively reached for cigarettes, found none, and asked Jerry, "Got any mints?"
Jerry replied, "Who eats that stuff?"
Francis couldn't be bothered with him.
He'd accomplished what he came for and got up to leave.
Jerry called after him, "What am I, a hotel? Come and go as you please? I risked my wife giving me the cold shoulder to get you information, and you're leaving without showing some appreciation?"
"How else should I show appreciation?" Francis paused at the door. "Our businesses are all intertwined—we make countless money together. What more do you want?"
Jerry leaned back on the sofa, arms spread casually across the back. He crossed his legs with a smirk. "Daughters need to be raised well—of course I need to make more money."
Francis didn't bother arguing. Jerry had enough money to raise a dozen daughters lavishly. He was just making conversation.
"I'm leaving."
"Don't let me keep you."
Anne woke up at dawn, dozed fitfully for a while, and didn't get up until nearly noon. After thinking it over, she went to check on Willard.
He wasn't in his bedroom, so she asked the staff downstairs. A servant pointed toward the kitchen. She walked over to find Willard chopping vegetables, his exposed wrist wrapped in layers of gauze. His lips were pale, his eyes weary, yet he was still cooking?
Anne pressed her lips together. She hadn't slept well either and didn't look much better. After standing there for several seconds, she turned and left.
If he didn't care about his own body, why should she?
Willard caught her movement in his peripheral vision but didn't call out, continuing his work.
Quinton watched the entire exchange, worried about Willard's condition—he was still running a fever.
"Sir, please go rest. I'll arrange for someone else to cook and have it sent up to you. Besides, Ms. Waverly won't care anyway... You should really take care of yourself. Otherwise, if something happens to you, she could marry someone else."
After speaking, Quinton quickly dodged but still got kicked. Even sick, Willard's strength was considerable. Quinton bit back any sound and limped to a safer distance.
'Serves him right for not being able to win back his wife,' he thought.
When Hope returned with the food, she shared some with Felix when she saw him.
Felix was delighted to have treats. "Don't worry, Mrs. Hammer. I won't tell my boss."
"Smart man."
Hope entered the passcode and went inside. Elissa was already waiting by the door.
"Quick!"
"No rush," Hope said, setting everything on the dining table. "I already bribed Felix at the door. Francis knows you're eating this stuff."
Elissa had just scooped some shaved ice. "What?"
Hope smiled. "He controls your diet for your own good, but he definitely feels bad seeing you unhappy too."
Elissa took a satisfying bite, her mood immediately lifting. She waved her spoon in the air with a knowing look. "He feels guilty about Anne."
Hope took the spoon away. "Okay, two bites done."
Elissa smacked her lips and looked at Hope pleadingly.
Hope pushed the shaved ice aside and opened another bag. "Have some grilled skewers instead. Your favorite place wasn't open yet, so I specially found the owner and begged her to grill these for you. Full of love—they must taste amazing. Try them."
Elissa picked up a grilled mushroom skewer but kept staring at the shaved ice in the distance.
Hope turned sideways, propping her head on her hand to block Elissa's view.
Elissa bit into the mushroom with frustration. "Can I have just one more bite? Please, dear Hope?"
Hope shook her head. "Absolutely not."
Elissa sighed. "I'm never having another baby after this one."
Hope laughed at how pitiful she looked. She scooped up one more spoonful and held it to Elissa's mouth. "Last bite, okay?"
"I knew you were the best!" Elissa swallowed it in one gulp. "Refreshing!"
Hope quickly disposed of the remaining shaved ice to keep Elissa from obsessing over it. The cold gave her brain freeze, making her temples throb.
Elissa burst out laughing.
Hope rubbed her temples. "The things I suffer for you."
"Yes, yes, absolutely." Elissa handed her a meat skewer. "Quick, eat this to recover."
They smiled at each other, but then Elissa's mood turned melancholy again.
"I'm still so worried about Anne. But I can't keep thinking about her, or I'll be tempted to go find her."
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