Chapter 125
For three years, John had tried every possible way to get his son's forgiveness, but with little success.
When Calliope went upstairs, she also heard the sounds of arguing. She quickened her pace, feeling somewhat relieved when she recognized John's voice, but she was also puzzled by the intensity of the argument.
"Mrs. Moore, shouldn't we go over and try to calm them down?" Jenny asked worriedly.
"No need; it will be fine," Calliope said calmly, having picked up on some nuances from their argument.
"I tell you, I will never forget this! Not unless I'm dead!" Sylvester glared at his father, his eyes burning with rage.
John felt there was nothing left to talk about with his son. Time had not eased the hatred; it had only deepened it.
Suddenly, Sylvester stormed out of the room and saw Calliope standing outside. He sneered. "Get out of my way!"
Calliope glared at him. "Enjoy yourself last night?"
Sylvester smirked provocatively. "Absolutely. She was far better than you. Jealous?"
"You bastard!" Calliope couldn't help but scream in anger.
"Did you just realize who I am today? Haven't I always been like this? Regret marrying me? Too late!" Sylvester walked up to her, looking down at her. He noticed her slightly bulging belly and pushed her aside. "Remember, don't block my way in the future!" Then he strode away.
Calliope clenched her fists. He was the one at fault, yet he had the audacity to throw a fit. What a madman! If only a lightning bolt could strike him down!
When Calliope entered the room and saw the mess all over the floor, she was furious.
"Jenny, replace these sheets, carpets, and everything Nina touched! And get rid of the sofa she sat on too!" Calliope demanded, pointing angrily at the mess.
Jenny looked at Calliope in surprise but hesitated, pointing to the high-end sofa. "But that's Mr. Sylvester Moore's favorite sofa, specially airlifted from Frostholm."
"So what?" Calliope shouted. "If we can't find a replacement for the sofa, then forget it. Just make sure nothing Nina touched remains in this room! Got it?"
Jenny quickly nodded and arranged for the cleanup. Calliope glared at the sheets and called Ava to bring her a pair of scissors. She started cutting them into pieces, cursing under her breath, "Cheating scumbags!"
Jenny shook her head helplessly. Calliope and Sylvester were arguing again. Who knew when they would reconcile?
These days, Sylvester was leaving early and coming back late. Calliope had no idea what he was up to. He spent every day in his office drinking whiskey, looking utterly despondent, not caring about his health at all.
Although he had learned about Calliope's background, he had never brought it up. No one knew what he was thinking.
Michael saw the young couple's quarrel and wanted to help reconcile them. In his eyes, Calliope and Sylvester were the perfect match.
When Michael approached Calliope, she forced a smile, "Mr. Moore, what brings you here?"
"Of course, I'm here because of your little quarrel. I heard you two argued again?" Michael sat down and kindly comforted her. "It's normal for young couples to argue. Don't take it to heart."
"I know, but he doesn't like me at all. How can a marriage like this not have arguments?" Calliope said honestly. From the beginning, it had been a conspiracy, and Sylvester had been unwilling.
Michael sighed. "Young people often have tempers. You two actually complement each other well. I hoped he would settle down soon, but he keeps getting involved with other women. However, his heart will settle down eventually."
"Forget it. I don't care anymore. He can do whatever he wants. I just want to have the child safely," Calliope said, finding an excuse. She didn't want to stay here any longer anyway.
"Calliope, don't lose hope. Things will work out," Michael said before leaving.At the office, Sylvester was downing drink after drink.
"She's just a woman. If it doesn't work out, find another one. Learn from me, and don't get emotionally attached," Robert said.
Sylvester remained silent, continuing to drink.
Suddenly, Robert snatched the glass from Sylvester's hand. "The doctor said you shouldn't be drinking. How much more are you planning to have?"
Sylvester stared at the empty glass and murmured, "Why do people live? For benefits? For money? It's so ironic."
A few days ago, Calliope had asked the same question, but no one had an answer. Everyone seemed to be living in a fog, as if they were existing just for the sake of it.
The fact that they both pondered this question at the same time could be considered a kind of unspoken understanding, right?
"What's gotten into you? You weren't like this before. She's just a woman. I have a few top-notch women here. You can have as many as you want!" Robert worried that if Sylvester kept drinking like this, he would end up with a stomach bleed.
For playboys like them, women were never in short supply, but they always lacked the feeling that could bring peace to their hearts.
"Do you think I'm some kind of trash bin?" Sylvester pushed Robert away and grabbed his glass back.
Robert sighed and finally revealed a big secret. "Actually, Nina approached you on purpose three years ago. I found some evidence to prove it."
Sylvester sneered. "It doesn't matter. I don't want anything to do with her anymore. My pride won't allow it."
"You've always been so self-centered. You didn't know about Nina back then, so how can you be sure Calliope didn't approach you with a hidden agenda?" Robert asked seriously.
Sylvester glanced at Robert and then took a long sip of his drink. "Calliope? It doesn't matter anymore."
What hurt him the most was discovering that Calliope was an illegitimate child.
Hearing Sylvester's response, Robert had nothing more to say. He had met Calliope a few times and felt she wasn't the scheming type.
At the Moore manor, Calliope's phone rang. The hospital called to inform her that the heart donor had passed away. However, she couldn't even come up with twenty thousand dollars, let alone two hundred thousand.
"Can you give me a few more days? I'm trying to raise the money," Calliope said anxiously.
On the other end, the doctor hesitated for a few seconds before telling her the harsh truth, "If a person has been dead for more than six hours, the heart can't be used. Besides, someone has already decided to buy it for four hundred thousand dollars, and the agreement has been signed. Sorry for notifying you so late."
Calliope felt as if the world had collapsed around her. She couldn't believe how cruel fate could be. It had given her hope only to snatch it away. Why offered hope in the first place?
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