Chapter 51 You Smell so Good

Harold didn't say a word.
Nick continued, "The owner of the car is surnamed Williams, the CEO of Begin Holdings. It's unclear why he was following your car."
Actually, he was clear, but he's involved with Maggie. Being cautious not to upset Harold, Nick didn't go into too much detail.
The incident with the troublemaker at the TV station, Nick was the one who revealed the banner with vulgar words in white print.
Luckily, it was fake. If Maggie had cheated within her marriage, Harold would have become the other man.
Nick had been working with him for some time, and he rarely saw Harold in such an unstable emotional state. The world of power and privilege was never a peaceful place, so they had to be prepared for everything.
Harold had always possessed great composure and remained calm in any situation.
But at that time, his face fell into a stillness as silent as the Dead Sea.
Nick thought, 'They said women are the heroes' tomb. No matter how powerful and accomplished a man is, once he gets involved with a woman, he can't escape.'
"There are different levels of businessmen, and the Williams family can be considered a small-scale power in the district. They have money and some influence, engaged in the real estate industry, taking on projects at the county and town level. They have more than enough in the lower levels but not enough to be taken seriously in higher levels."
Harold flicked his cigarette away, calm and composed. "I understood," Nick glanced at the rearview mirror, "Should we deal with the car following us?"
In the distance, the Swan Lake lit up with observation lights, casting a gleam onto the man's pitch-black pupils. "When people are too idle, trouble is inevitable. We need to keep him occupied."...
When Maggie entered the house, she received a phone call from her mother. Since moving to Washington D.C, her mother had initiated contact only a few times.
She spoke first, "I've deposited some money into your account for emergencies. Now that money is tight..."
Her mother interrupted, "Why did they replace you as the host of the show?"
This was an unexpected turn. Maggie came up with a response in a calm tone, "I've been hosting for over a year, and the novelty has worn off. The TV made some adjustments, and they will assign me to other programs."
A silence hung between them, and her mother gripped the phone tightly. "What about Matt? Are you two still together?"
"No."
Maggie did not offer an explanation and abruptly ended the conversation.
"Come back for a visit during your vacation. I have been having headaches."
"Go to the hospital. I will arrange a full-body checkup for you with a doctor."
Her mother never lied, and Maggie inherited that trait from her. Whenever she made excuses and lied, her tone became stiff and rigid.
Stumbling over her words, she couldn't find the right words to say. She decided to be frank and exploded in anger, "Have you divorced Matt? You made a decision without consulting anyone in the family, thinking you could hide it from me?"
Maggie had expected this. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she struggled to breathe. "Matt and I are just not suitable for each other. Being tied together is torture for me."
There was a noise at the door, Harold entered with a bowl of dark medicine.
Maggie hung up the phone.
"Take the medicine."
The bitter taste spread in the air, comparable to a combination of Sichuan pepper and coptis. Maggie frowned, "I'm feeling better."
She made it clear that she didn't want it, leaning her body back and avoiding it. Harold firmly held her hips with one hand, pushed her onto his lap, and firmly said, "Take a sip, don't waste the medicinal herbs."
The medicine was prepared by a nanny using traditional remedies from their hometown. Maggie always felt that her illness hadn't fully healed, her expression wasn't good, and she was too thin.
Maggie glanced at the dark medicinal soup with cicada shells floating on top. The reflection of her face was distorted and swayed. She clenched her jaw tighter.
Harold seldom showed such great patience. If the bowl's rim didn't fit, he would find another way. He took a sip, then pressed his lips against hers, allowing the liquid to enter her mouth. It was too forceful, and Maggie choked, pushing against his chest, "It's too bitter."
She had taken a shower, and the buttons on her nightgown in the front burst open due to being too tight, letting the water droplets slide into her pale cleavage.
Harold's back tensed, his muscles twitching. The restlessness in his heart was nurtured by the spring scenery and difficult to conceal. He held her waist as she wriggled in his arms, burying his face into her chest.
Papaya's shower gel, when triggered by body temperature, the fragrance became even stronger. Harold's nose was pressed against the soft white flesh, gently sucking and moving, "You smell so good."