Chapter 14 Give Her One More Chance

• Dean's POV:
• As I emerged from the bathroom, I caught Cynthia trying to hide my phone under her clothes.
• I walked over and took the phone from her, my tone icy. "Who called just now?"
• Cynthia's eyes darted nervously. "N-no one ... "
• I checked the call log and saw a missed call from Rachel just a minute ago.
• I shot Cynthia a sharp look.
• She squirmed and said, "Mr. Murray, Rachel asked where you were. I knew you didn't want to see her, so I just told her you were occupied. I didn't mention anything else."
• I set the phone aside, unimpressed by her transparent lie.
• At that moment, one of my business partners, smiling broadly, approached. "Mr. Murray, I'm pleased you're still here. I've reserved a private room at the Twilight Lounge. Care to join us?"
• I glanced at Cynthia. "Ms. Dawson is the primary contact for this project. I'll pass. Enjoy your evening."
• Cynthia quickly interjected, "Mr. Murray … "
• I nodded to my business partner and walked away with determination.
• Once outside the club, I got into the car.
• The driver asked, "Mr. Murray, back to the apartment or Starhaven Manor?"
• I looked at my phone and replied curtly, "Starhaven Manor."
• "Understood."
• Half an hour later, as I stepped out of the car, my phone rang again.
• It was another call from Rachel.
• I answered, but the line was silent.
• I sighed in frustration, adjusting my tie as I sank into the sofa. "Speak."
• After a brief pause, a hesitant voice finally came through. "Are you ... done?"
• "Done with what?"
• There was a moment of silence before she changed the subject. "I'm really sorry about today. Something unexpected came up. I didn't skip it intentionally."
• I scoffed. "Rachel, I waited for you for an hour."
• "I'm really sorry. I had an urgent issue. Can we reschedule for tomorrow? You can pick the time, or I can wait at the courthouse early in the morning. Just let me know when you're available."
• "I'm not as free as you think. I have a business trip to Frostwick tomorrow."
• She sounded disappointed. "Oh, I see. Well, let's talk when you get back."
• I frowned and, after a moment, asked, "Do you want some chocolate?"
• "Hmm?"
• I repeated with irritation, "I'm heading to Frostwick for a business trip. I asked if you wanted some chocolate."
• The last time I visited Frostwick, the local partners had given me several boxes of their renowned chocolates. When I returned, I had casually left them on the coffee table.
• I wasn't much of a sweet tooth, but I remembered Rachel had a fondness for them, so I thought I'd bring some back for her.
• After a brief pause, Rachel replied, "Oh, no thanks."
• I snorted in frustration, annoyed by her lack of enthusiasm, and abruptly ended the call.
• Just moments after hanging up, I called her again. Rachel answered quickly.
• I inquired, "Where's the hangover remedy?"
• "It's in the third cabinet to the left in the kitchen, on the top shelf. But it's a hangover soup that needs to be cooked. If you don't know how to ... "
• My breathing quickened as I waited for her to finish.
• Rachel continued, "Then you should have one of the servants make it."
• I felt a pang of irritation, realizing I had hoped she might assist with the cooking.
• Frustrated, I ended the call again.
• I didn't wake the servants up. Instead, I pressed my aching temples and drank a glass of cold water before heading upstairs.
• Entering the bedroom, I reached for some clothes for the bathroom and was struck by the sight of numerous women's garments that had evidently been left untouched for quite some time.
• Rachel had been gone for nearly a month.
• Earlier that afternoon, I had asked Ted outside the courthouse, "If a woman is adamant about a divorce, besides seeking financial gain, what other reasons could there be?"
• I had been troubled lately. Rachel claimed she didn't want money and simply wanted a divorce, but that excuse seemed weak. Her father's commotion at the Murray Corporation today was evidence of that.
• Yet Rachel's resolve was so strong she didn't even try to leverage the situation, which was confusing.
• Ted had been silent for a while before cautiously suggesting, "Mr. Murray, is there a chance there's some misunderstanding between you and Mrs. Murray?"
• "Misunderstanding?" I pondered and clenched my fists.
• "Yes, if there's any misunderstanding, it needs to be cleared up," Ted said earnestly.
• Was I supposed to beg Rachel for understanding? The thought was unsettling.
• Ted, unaware of my growing frustration, continued, "You should try to be more considerate when speaking to Mrs. Murray. Women are often very sensitive and can become insecure easily.
• "And Mrs. Murray doesn't seem to be motivated solely by money. When her father caused a scene at Murray Corporation, she said your money belonged to you. Moreover, she even got slapped."
• I frowned slightly. "She was slapped?"
• "Yes, it was quite hard. You can even see the handprint."
• After a moment, I said, "Find out how much that man owes and make sure he doesn't come near me again."
• Back in the present, I stood in the bedroom, my gaze fixed on the blue and white striped shirt hanging prominently. I was extremely agitated.
• Was my tone not gentle enough when I called her? Was my attitude wrong?
• She still wanted to press for a divorce!
• I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, resolving to give her one more chance.
• If, upon my return from Frostwick, Rachel remained uncooperative, I'd throw both her and that shirt out.