CEO Plus-Size Ex-Wife

Chapter 117: The Thought Of Being Replaced

Mrs. Willow didn't attempt to dissuade Valentine Anderson from visiting his sister; she understood his aversion to assuming another's identity.

"If that's your wish, I'll instruct my informant to track your sister's whereabouts. We can arrange a meeting before our departure." With her piece said, Mrs. Willow rose and strode from the room to the balcony, gazing contemplatively at the sky.

Lost in thought, Valentine Anderson was jolted by a sudden realization, prompting him to tighten his grip into clenched fists.

Lifting his gaze, he noticed Margaret Willow's absence, unaware of when she had left. He made his way to the balcony to join her.

"Tell me about Pascal Willow," he said, taking a deep breath.

Margaret turned with a smile, her curiosity piqued. "Have you decided, then?"

Valentine responded, "Not yet. Before I consider your proposition, I must know who I'm expected to become. It's unreasonable to step into the shoes of someone I know nothing about."

Mrs. Willow paused, reflecting deeply before she looked up and spoke earnestly. "Pascal was my husband and the chairman of Willow Group, heir to the Willow family. He was a man of great trust, especially in his brothers and relatives. Because of this trust, he was betrayed, and it led to his death."

Her fists balled in anger, Margaret continued, "They made sure he couldn't survive. He was killed in a bomb explosion, so cruelly that I couldn't even bid him a proper farewell."

Her voice wavered, and tears reddened her eyes.

Moved by her sorrow, Valentine offered comfort. "You should not cry. Your pain is not lost on me."

Margaret allowed tears to fall, and Valentine, driven by empathy, embraced her, gently patting her back. "Pretend I am your husband, that he is here with you now, in this embrace."

These words, meant to console, brought a faint smile to Margaret's lips, unseen by Valentine, who was solely focused on alleviating her grief.

They remained locked in solace until Valentine, realizing the potential impropriety of his actions, broke away, apologizing with evident anxiety, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disrespect your husband's memory. I just—"

With a chuckle, Margaret interrupted, "There's no need for apologies. Thank you, Valentine. Your words have been a balm to my heart."

After a brief pause, she moved towards the door. "Rest well; we have a long journey ahead of us," she advised before departing, leaving Valentine alone with his thoughts.

Valentine ran a hand through his hair, pacing in frustration, torn by indecision.

Then, abruptly ceasing his restless movement, his expression hardened, his resolve clear as he faced the direction of the Singers' Mansion to the city's west.

After wrapping up a conversation with her international clients, Andrea Singers returned to her bedroom. There, she was taken aback to find Lucas Anderson deeply engrossed in painting. The subjects of his art were none other than the man and woman they had encountered earlier that day — Margret Willow and Pascal Willow.

"Lucas, what are you doing?" Andrea inquired cautiously, her eyes fixed on the canvas that depicted the two strangers they had just met.

Lucas glanced up with a smile, his attention momentarily diverted from the portrait. He hadn't noticed Andrea enter; his focus was entirely on capturing the likenesses of the couple who had appeared at their doorstep.

"Andrea, do you think there's something off about the strangers we met at the gate after we returned from the hospital?" Lucas asked, a furrow forming between his brows.

Andrea considered the thought. The man had seemed familiar in a way that suggested they might be acquaintances, yet she was certain they had never met before. Perhaps she was just being overly cautious.

"They're just harmless strangers, no need to overthink it," Andrea reassured him, "and there's no need to investigate. Let's get some rest; it's late." With that, she began to apply her facial mask.

Hearing Andrea's words, Lucas let go of his suspicions and resolved not to pursue any further inquiries about the couple. "Goodnight, Andrea," he said.

He settled into bed and quickly fell asleep, leaving the unfinished portrait beside him. Andrea glanced over at the painting, feeling an unexplainable discomfort stirring within her.

"This portrait makes me feel uneasy," she muttered to herself before carefully putting it aside and completing her nightly routine.

As the dark clouds parted and the eastern sky was graced with the morning sun, Valentine Anderson and Margret Willow had successfully tracked down Benita Anderson.

Benita was perusing the aisles of a supermarket, accompanied by her mother. Despite the mansion's staff being fully capable of procuring whatever was needed, Benita chose this outing as a means to draw her mother away from the confines of their home.

Valentine and Margret discreetly trailed the pair, feigning interest in various products on the shelves while they pushed their carts. Margret, concerned about Valentine's ability to restrain his emotions upon seeing his sister and mother together, suggested, "Valentine, I think it would be better to approach your sister when she returns to her office."

She feared that an emotional outburst from Valentine might complicate the task of convincing both Benita and Mrs. Anderson of his identity.

Valentine, driven by impatience, countered, "Since she's here, there's no reason to wait."

Having made his decision, he steered his cart directly toward Mrs. Anderson and Benita, who were engrossed in their conversation and oblivious to his approach.

"Mom, have you thought about inviting Lucas to the house?" Benita inquired with genuine curiosity.

With a heavy sigh, Mrs. Anderson responded, "I worry that Lucas might think we're trying to get him to fill Valentine's shoes."

Valentine, overhearing the conversation and the mention of being replaced, felt a surge of anger. His expression darkened like the storm clouds that had just cleared from the sky.