Chapter 36 Fiorello' Jealousy Erupted
Samwise interpreted Maggie's stunned reaction as an act.
Samwise tugged at the corner of his mouth with a hint of mockery. "Don't you remember what you've done? Maggie, during our dating days, you were playing the field, and now it seems you're still at it, aren't you? Why pretend to be so virtuous? I can turn a blind eye."
Maggie was the one that got away for Samwise, the unattainable that always agitated his heart.
The real reason Samwise sought Maggie now was not just because he never really had her, but also because he was successful in his career and there was a part of him that was showboating and, admittedly, rather smug.
"Samwise, what nonsense are you spouting?" Maggie was very angry. "I never thought that after all these years, you'd become so shameless. Please, leave."
She didn't want to say another word to Samwise.
She was disappointed and heartbroken. She had waited for him for so many years, with a faithful heart, and now, just because she was unwilling, he had the nerve to accuse her unjustly.
Maggie didn't want to make any more fuss. She dropped the matter and turned to enter her apartment complex.
Samwise's face was grim as he sat down in his car and slammed the door shut.
He had no intention of letting Maggie go so easily. Taking out his phone, he made a call. "Keep looking. Find out who that man is."
With anger lacing his voice, Samwise called a private investigator. Afterward, he started his car and drove away. When he came to a traffic light, he caught sight of a Rolls-Royce parked at the curb—and not just any Rolls-Royce, but one of a globally limited edition.
There were only three like it in the world.
Samwise couldn't help but take a few extra looks. With the car windows separating them, he couldn't make out the person sitting inside.
Anyone bold enough to drive such a car not only had money but also a certain level of influence.
Samwise felt a twinge of jealousy. All men love luxury cars, and his own ride couldn't even match a wheel of that Rolls-Royce—especially since it was rented.
To open his law firm, Samwise had already put forward all his family's savings. They had been well-off in the earlier years but could only be considered middle-class, and that was before they had spent a good amount of it.
For appearances during business deals, he could only afford to rent a Maybach.
As for the villa in South Hill, that was just a facade.
Inside the Rolls-Royce, Fiorello had watched the whole scene between Maggie and Samwise. His expression was stern and unreadable.
He had rushed back after finishing up at the company, not expecting to encounter Maggie and her former boyfriend right outside his home.
The driver asked, "Mr. Flores, shall we go back to Cityhomes West or the old mansion?"
"Back to the old mansion," Fiorello replied coolly.
The driver, not daring to say more, started the car and headed toward the old mansion.
...
Back in her own home, Maggie's mind echoed with Samwise's words.
How could she ever play the field?
When Maggie was dating Samwise, she never paid attention to other men.
Why would Samwise say something like that?
Maggie, having calmed down, started to ponder this question as well.
"Do you really not remember what you did?" That was Samwise's exact phrase. Maggie furrowed her brow, realizing she indeed had forgotten some things. A flutter of worry crept into her heart. Could it be that she had truly forgotten?
However, Maggie quickly dismissed the thought. That was impossible. She would never get mixed up with two men at the same time.
Unable to figure it out and not wanting to trouble herself further, Maggie considered that perhaps Samwise was merely speculating wildly and trying to slander her just because he couldn't have her.
As dusk fell, Maggie started to wonder why Fiorello hadn't returned home yet. She sent him a text.
Maggie: [When are you coming back? Are you done with work?]
Inside a grand house in the South Hill villa district, Fiorello was seated in a sky garden, sipping on a freshly brewed coffee. Seeing Maggie's message, the smidgen of jealousy and annoyance he felt began to dissipate.
His pride stopped him from replying right away. As he took another sip, he couldn't help but recall the taro bubble tea Maggie had invited him to drink, making the coffee in his hand seem bland by comparison.
"Fiorello, Fiorello," called Eleanor, dressed in a light-colored designer dress that was both delicate and elegant. "It's so late already, why are you still here? Why haven't you gone back?"
"Back where?" Fiorello asked.
"Back to your home with your wife, of course. Why would you come back by yourself without bringing your wife along? Go back now, don't let your wife worry. Don't be foolish. You're a married man now," Eleanor chided.
Fiorello was at a loss for words.
Unaware of Fiorello's circumstances, Maggie thought he was simply caught up with work. She sent another message.
Maggie: [I've kept dinner warm in the pot for you. Remember to eat when you get back. I'm going to bed.]
Fiorello looked at the message and felt a warmth spread through him.
Maggie had saved dinner for him.
Eleanor craned his neck for a glance and, seeing Maggie's understanding, she promptly picked up Fiorello: "Get back home, don't keep your wife waiting too long. Next time, don't come back without your wife. I get annoyed just seeing you alone."
In the end, Eleanor practically chased Fiorello out.
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