Remarriage Failed Again Today

Chapter 595: Chapter 595: I Like You a Lot

Annabelle Linton was badly startled. She turned her head and looked...

Oh, my god!

L-Leona Grant?!

Seeing his thunderous expression, as if he were grinding his teeth, Annabelle Linton felt four words flash through her mind—

Annabelle Linton, you’re screwed!

’How does this man walk so silently? And he was eavesdropping on my phone call! But the most important question is, how much did he hear?’

’I don’t think I said anything that bad,’ Annabelle Linton thought. ’But...’

A few words flashed through her mind.

Huh— Her eyes flew wide, and she gasped.

Hearing Annabelle’s gasp, Quentin Holland immediately sat up in bed and asked nervously, "Annabelle, what’s wrong?"

’So it really is a man! And Quentin Holland, no less!’

Leona Grant dropped Annabelle Linton onto the bed. The moment she was free, Annabelle scrambled off the other side, putting as much distance between them as possible.

She decided to end the call first and deal with the fallout later. Annabelle forced a laugh. "Oh, it’s nothing. I just almost tripped. Anyway, it’s getting late..."

"But are you alright?" Quentin Holland cut in nervously before Annabelle could finish.

’My wife doesn’t need some other man worrying about her,’ he thought.

Leona Grant slowly got off the bed and started toward Annabelle Linton.

’I was just kidding around,’ Annabelle thought, ’but when this man gets obsessive, he becomes completely unreasonable!’

’...Best to make a run for it?’

’Good idea!’

Annabelle decided to get out of the room first. Her hand had just touched the doorknob when a much larger one beat her to it.

"CLICK—"

He’d locked it...

Uh oh...

Annabelle watched him nervously. Suddenly, Leona Grant smiled at her.

The next second, he slammed one hand against the door beside her head, trapping her. He leaned in, snatched the phone with his other hand, and pressed it to her ear.

"Annabelle?"

When Quentin Holland didn’t get a response for a long moment, he asked again, his voice hesitant.

Annabelle didn’t dare speak. She tried to snatch the phone back but couldn’t, her mind racing to figure out what to do.

Still getting no response, Quentin Holland grew agitated, thinking she might have been badly hurt in the fall or even fainted. "Annabelle? Annabelle, what’s wrong? Say something! Annabelle Linton!"

Annabelle forced a smile that looked more like a grimace and, thinking fast, said, "I’m fine! It’s getting really late, Mr. Holland. I’m going to head to bed now. My husband is waiting for me. You should get some sleep too!"

After saying that, she even shot Leona Grant a self-congratulatory smile, as if looking for praise.

Hearing the word "husband," Leona Grant’s expression softened slightly, and he gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

But in the next instant, his expression turned impossibly dark again!

"Oh... alright..."

Quentin Holland’s voice was tinged with disappointment. Just as Annabelle felt she had dodged a bullet, he spoke again. "Annabelle, there’s something I need to tell you."

A bad feeling washed over Annabelle. She forced another laugh. "Um, can’t whatever it is wait until tomorrow? It’s really late..."

"It won’t take long. It’s just a few sentences."

Quentin Holland walked to his floor-to-ceiling window and gazed out at the bustling city below. For a moment, a wave of loneliness and emptiness washed over him, filling his heart.

Suddenly, the image of Annabelle’s bright smile appeared in his mind’s eye, and he felt a trace of warmth seep into his cold heart.

He smiled faintly and said in a fond voice, "Annabelle, in this whole world, you’re the only person I feel genuinely lucky to have met. You’re also the first person who has ever felt this important to me. I..."

Quentin Holland paused, his gentle voice coming through the phone. "I really like you. BEEP—"

And with that, he hung up...

Uh...

Dead silence. Absolute, dead silence...

’Mr. Holland, I can afford the phone bill, you really don’t have to be so frugal... Couldn’t you have waited a second longer before hanging up...?’

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