Quiana Sutton's forehead throbbed slightly; Charles Foote must have overheard her conversation with Julian Haworth earlier. Why is this man always so elusive?
However, she didn't feel like dealing with him and breezed past him into the newly opened elevator.
As the elevator doors closed, before Charles Foote's face was completely obscured, she faintly heard Julian Haworth's exasperated voice saying: "Why didn't you stop her? I'm not finished talking..."
When the slight clattering sound of the elevator descending echoed, Charles Foote withdrew his gaze, glanced at Julian Haworth's gloomy face, and said softly: "Try not to pick a fight with her each time you see her. It's better for us outsiders to stay out of their marital affairs."
Julian Haworth sneered, "All they have is a marriage certificate, does it signify love or any other emotions?"
Charles Foote was silent for a moment, his youthful face showing an unexpected weariness and loneliness: "How do you know they lack feelings? How do you know Durrell Landon doesn't care for her?"
"Sometimes, liking someone doesn't necessarily need to be said out loud."
Julian Haworth scoffed, "You speak as if you're some great romantic, aren't you also a single dog like me?"
Charles Foote's expression shifted slightly, but in the end, he shook his head and said nothing.
Quiana Sutton returned to the seventh floor where Isabelle Somerville had already emerged from the consultation room. Upon seeing her, she wore an extremely aggrieved expression.
"Quiana, where have you been? Why took you so long to come back?"
Clearly, she had promised to accompany Isabelle but failed to do so, which broke her word.
"Sorry, I got held up by something."
Isabelle Somerville wasn't genuinely complaining, "Alright then, as a penalty, you can fetch my medicine for me later."
Quiana Sutton smiled indulgently, "Okay, I'll agree to anything."
"That's more like it."
-
Charles Foote, standing by the window, saw the departing figures of Quiana Sutton and Isabelle Somerville. Beside him, Julian Haworth was smoking, and the smell wafted to Charles' nose, making him frown slightly.
"Smoking is prohibited in the hospital."
Julian Haworth maintained his playful demeanor, "In my family's hospital, rules are mine to decide."
Charles Foote pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache building, and decided he didn't want to linger anymore, grabbed his coat, and left the office.
He headed to Imperial View Manor.
Honestly, every time he arrived at Imperial View Manor, he felt compelled to reflect.
Imperial View Manor was designed by Samuel Linnel, the most brilliant architect of this century, commissioned by Zeke Landon at great expense. Imperial View Manor isn't merely a manor; it's a work of art.
No matter the angle, no matter the vantage point, it's splendidly beautiful.
The servant informed him that Durrell Landon was currently in the study. Charles Foote nodded slightly to show he understood and headed toward the study.
He lightly knocked on the door, but there was no response. After hesitating, he pushed the door open and entered.
He immediately saw a ray of sunshine spilling through the window, illuminating Durrell Landon's face, highlighting his exquisite features.
This reminded him of Quiana Sutton's words, "How do you know I'm not just charmed by his looks?" He couldn't help but chuckle softly.
This face is indeed enough to make one throw caution to the wind.
Aware of someone entering the study, Durrell Landon glanced up at the person, said nothing, and then lowered his gaze, his dark, mysterious eyes seeming to seal away hidden secrets.
"Do you need something?"
Charles Foote spoke lightly, "I came to check on how you're doing."
Durrell Landon still didn't look up, his handsome face indifferent and aloof: "With Oliver around, I won't die."
When he said this, there was no sadness or joy, not even a trace of emotional fluctuation, making it more chilling.
Charles Foote knew well in his heart that if measured by ability, Durrell Landon was completely on par with Zeke Landon. To avoid suspicion, he opted to immerse himself in the entertainment industry.
After all, Zeke Landon was his half-brother. If Durrell also entered Universal Corporation, the Landon Family would likely face turmoil and chaos, something Durrell didn't wish to see.
He walked a few steps forward, saw an unfinished large calligraphy piece sprawled before Durrell Landon, its characters bold and powerful, surpassing even those of renowned calligraphers.
Though incomplete, one could still discern the outlines of these two characters—Quiana Sutton.
He curiously asked:
"Durrell, have you remembered her?"
"No, I've simply conducted a simple investigation and confirmed she is indeed my wife."
Charles Foote hesitated for a moment but still spoke:
"Do you wish to regain those memories?"
Durrell Landon said nothing, leaving it unclear whether he wanted to regain or forget.
Charles Foote found Durrell Landon's intentions hard to gauge, but recalling his promise to Quiana Sutton, he continued: "Oliver suggested if there are familiar people around to trigger your memory, perhaps you could regain it quickly. If you wish to restore your memories, why not bring her to Imperial View Manor? Spending time together might help you remember something?"
Hearing this, Durrell Landon pressed his lips together, a soft smile curling momentarily, seeming to spread a faint scent throughout the room, but as he spoke, freezing the atmosphere:
"What qualifies her to stay at Imperial View Manor?"
"Whether she's qualified is naturally up to you."
Durrell Landon didn't respond, simply picked up a brush and traced the characters of Quiana Sutton on the rice paper until they were complete.
Afterward, he got up and left the study...
Charles Foote saw the characters Quiana Sutton on the rice paper, raised his brow, understanding everything in his heart.
-
The two returned home, Isabelle Somerville tried to persuade Quiana Sutton to stay a few more days, and unable to refuse, Quiana agreed, but mentioned she needed to return to her apartment to pick up some personal items.
Upon returning to her apartment, Quiana Sutton adeptly entered the code, and as soon as the door opened, the already cramped space felt more oppressive.
Her eyes immediately fell upon Durrell Landon seated on the sofa and an unknown man standing nearby.
This man wore glasses with golden rims, a faint smile on his lips, seeming like a gentle spring breeze, appearing completely harmless.
This was Oliver Gale's first meeting with Quiana Sutton. His passion for medicine led him to study abroad early on, completely oblivious to Durrell Landon's secret marriage. Had it not been for Julian Haworth slipping up yesterday, he still would have been in the dark.
Seeing Quiana Sutton now, he was utterly shocked, never having seen someone whose beauty and presence weren't overshadowed by Durrell Landon.
This woman wasn't simple.
This was his first impression.
Quiana Sutton withdrew her gaze and sat boldly before Durrell Landon. As they were on the brink of divorce, she didn't care much for appearances, asked:
"What's the reason for seeking me out?"
Durrell Landon frowned slightly, seemingly displeased with her actions, yet his tone remained flat,
"I don't like doing anything without clarity."
She raised a brow, "So?"
"Thus, until my memory is restored, I won't sign the divorce papers."
She scoffed, "If you never regain your memory, are we supposed to remain bound by this empty marriage vow for life?"
Durrell Landon spoke indifferently, "I don't mind!"
Quiana Sutton felt like fainting; she minded greatly, immensely so. She had no desire to become a lifelong widow.
She flatly refused, "No, I won't."