It was as if Henry anticipated what Xavier was about to say. “I just like to sit like this. It has nothing to do with anyone else. Mind your own business.”
“Why are you getting so worked up when I haven’t even mentioned anyone?” Xavier burst out laughing. He glanced at Weston, who was absorbed in his newspaper, then blew a smoke ring, holding the cigarette nonchalantly between his fingers. “There’s really nothing you can do with this nephew of mine. He can’t shake his capitalist attitude, no matter where he goes.”
Henry followed Xavier’s gaze to Weston, who was reading leisurely, then shook his head and smiled. “He’s not like us. He has a woman to take care of.”
Xavier raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Guinevere is the daughter of the Cohens, and she’s a popular star. Does she really need him to support her?”
Henry chuckled but didn’t respond. He could tell that Weston’s eyes told a different story, one that spoke volumes more than words ever could.
Having spent years in the business world, Xavier wasn’t as naïve as he seemed. He could read Henry’s expression, sensing that there was more to the story than just Weston’s relationship with Guinevere. “Hmm? Do you have a different opinion about our perfect couple?”
Henry pushed his wheelchair closer to the balcony railing, reaching out to touch the potted plants that adorned it. Among them was the Easter Lily Cactus, the one he’d kept the longest. It was about to bloom.
He ran his pale, slender fingers over the cactus’s sharp spikes, lost in thought. Guinevere had visited his ward earlier, asking him to help investigate the woman from Lowe Garden. He would never refuse her. Glancing at Xavier, he asked, “You’re his uncle. You must have heard about that woman from Lowe Garden, right?”
Xavier straightened up, sensing something deeper in Henry’s question. He knew that Weston had visited Lowe Garden a while ago. It wasn’t unusual for him to go there for business, and it was common for him to spend time with women at such places. But this time, something had been different. Weston had never asked anyone to accompany him in a private room, but that day, he had. He even paid for the alcohol, which was unusual for him. Because of this, the price to hire the woman had skyrocketed.
It was a topic still being discussed by some, which meant Guinevere was likely aware of it. Xavier felt a shift in the air, sensing that something was off. “Hmm…” he murmured, massaging his temples. He had already heard that someone had visited Henry earlier. Given the connections between the three of them, he guessed it must have been Guinevere. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. “Never in my life did I think I’d see Weston get caught up in love.”
“If he really does have another woman…” Xavier teased, the arch of his lips betraying his intrigue. “Now, that would be interesting.”
As he spoke, he playfully extended his foot and nudged Henry’s wheelchair. “If Weston and Guinevere ever fall out, you’ll finally have your chance.”
Everyone knew the history between the two men. They had once turned against each other over a woman. Henry had openly pursued Guinevere, but it had been one-sided. She had been completely devoted to Weston, seeing Henry only as a backup. If Weston were to fall for another woman, Henry would finally be able to take his place.
Xavier’s words were laced with mockery, but Henry didn’t let them get under his skin. Just as he reached out to adjust the cactus, a sharp pain pricked his fingertip. He had been distracted while handling the plant, not noticing the spikes. A small drop of blood appeared on his fingertip.
Seeing this, Xavier reached out to take the cactus from Henry’s hands. “You’ve been cooped up in the hospital for so long that you’re starting to fiddle with these useless things. You’ve never had a green thumb. Why don’t you give them to the nurses? At least you’ll make a good impression on them.”
Before Xavier could touch the plant, Henry suddenly grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
Skip to content