Chapter 135 Charles
After chatting for a bit, Emma hopped into a nearby Bentley.
The driver had initially dismissed the car as empty due to its immobility. His assumption was quickly overturned when Emma appeared and Tate stepped out of the car to invite her.
No wonder the Bentley seemed so familiar—it was from the Russell family. So George had set Emma up with two cars. Rich folks really thought differently.
Once inside, Emma didn't bother talking to the driver. All she needed to know was that this car was sent by her "boyfriend."
Thinking about him, Emma felt a warm feeling wash over. Three years ago, if it hadn't been for their teamwork, she might not have made it off that cold operating table.
The Bentley cruised smoothly and quickly, and before long, Emma arrived at the Bayside Hotel for the celebration. The place was decked out in luxury, buzzing with guests in fancy outfits, their chatter and laughter filling the air.
As Emma walked into the lobby, it felt like time stopped for a second.
All eyes were on her. She wore a stunning evening gown, dark as the night sky, with flowing lines that highlighted her curves. The dress was simple yet elegant, showing off her graceful vibe.
Her hair was styled up, showing off her delicate collarbones, with a few loose curls adding a soft touch.
Her makeup was light, yet flawlessly applied, enhancing her natural beauty. A faint blush graced her cheeks, lending her an even more enchanting charm. She smiled slightly, like a spring breeze, warming the room.
Guests turned their heads, whispering and admiring her beauty. Some even paused mid-sip, staring at her.
"Who is she?" a lady in a glamorous dress asked, a hint of envy in her eyes.
"Don't you know? She's Isabella, the founder of Miss Lady."
"She's talented and beautiful. Why does God favor her so much?"
The murmurs of admiration reached Emma's ears. She had become someone to admire through her own hard work, no longer the Emma who was mocked everywhere she went.
Indeed, it was better for a woman to rely on herself than on a man.
When Emma's and George's eyes met, she felt no flutter, just a chill.
George, looking sharp in his suit, exuded elegance, but she didn't care. Even though his eyes sparkled with warmth, Emma just looked at him indifferently.
"Ms. Taylor, you're here," George said with a slight smile, stepping forward.
His voice was warm, but to Emma, it felt distant.
"Yes. Congratulations, Mr. Russell," Emma replied coldly.
She was here to expose Anna's true nature, not to rekindle anything with George.
George, however, seemed oblivious to Emma's coldness. He extended his arm, signaling for Emma to take it.
Emma laughed genuinely because of George's funny action. When they were married, George had never approached her voluntarily, but now he was trying to be friendly.
She thought, 'George, where's your Anna? You get engaged to her and now you abandon her.'
Although Emma still harbored hatred for Anna, at this moment, she suddenly felt that Anna was also pitiful. They were both victims of George's manipulation.
Emma pushed George's arm away, keeping a safe distance from him. George looked hurt, his eyes downcast, showing a hint of fragile loneliness.
Back in the day, Emma would've been heartbroken, but now she just thought George was a master at pretending.
"Ms. Taylor, can I ask you a favor?"
"What is it?"
"Could you pretend to be my ex-wife Emma and comfort my grandfather?"
Emma hesitated. No matter how George treated her, Charles had always cared about her. During the tough times with George, she had resented Charles for not stepping in to protect her.
But then she saw Charles in the hospital, lying in bed, and realized his health had been poor for years. He spent most of his time in the hospital.
Three years ago, when she suddenly died, Charles must have been deeply affected.
From George's words, it seemed they hadn't told Charles about her supposed death. So, visiting him as an old friend wouldn't hurt.
"Visiting him is the least I can do."
Outside the banquet hall, the celebration's noise was constant, with music and laughter blending together.
But in this luxuriously decorated room, the atmosphere was calm. Charles sat on the sofa, a hint of tranquility in his eyes, enjoying the peace.
Charles slowly sipped his water. As the head of the family, he carried many responsibilities and expectations, and moments of solitude made him feel relaxed.
"Grandpa, I'm here to see you." It was Emma's voice.
Charles's hand holding the teacup paused. That bastard George had hurt Emma deeply and made her divorce him.
'Is she still willing to come back and see me?' he thought.
Charles looked at the door in disbelief. The door slowly opened. A beautiful, lively girl appeared at the entrance. It was Emma.
In this quiet room, Charles looked at Emma, his eyes filled with warmth.
"Emma, it's my fault. If I had known it would end like this, I wouldn't have forced you and George together." Charles's voice carried a hint of regret, his face full of remorse and pain.
"It's okay, Grandpa." Emma smiled slightly, but a complex emotion surged in her heart.
"I've always considered you my granddaughter," Charles said slowly, his tone filled with endless warmth and concern. "I've missed you all these years. But I didn't dare to have them look for you, afraid of disturbing your new life."
Emma felt a warmth in her heart, her eyes slightly moist. Charles's genuine care and love for her were incredibly precious to her.
"Grandpa, I've missed you too." Emma responded softly.
"Seeing you again before I die brings me great comfort." Charles's voice carried a hint of fatigue, but more of satisfaction and peace.
"Grandpa, how is your health?" Emma asked with concern.
"I'm fine. Seeing you puts my mind at ease." Charles smiled warmly, then suddenly asked, "Emma, have you found a boyfriend these years?"
"Grandpa? Why are you asking this?"
"A good girl like you deserves someone to take care of you. You divorced George, and that's George's loss. You shouldn't give up on future happiness because of George!"
Emma quietly looked at the kind Charles, feeling moved. Charles truly saw her as his own granddaughter.
Emma's phone suddenly rang. She glanced at it and then back at Charles, an apologetic look on her face. Charles smiled and waved his hand, encouraging her to attend to her matters.
"Young people should have fun. Go ahead!" Charles smiled.
"I'll be right back. I'll come back to talk to you later." Emma had to leave; she was about to start her plan.
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