Chapter 5

The next day, the Getty Manor had fallen into an eerie silence.

Amara hadn't come around to cause trouble, probably sulking after being reprimanded by Owen the night before.

Owen himself seemed quite upset too, not even coming down for breakfast, remaining confined to his room.

In the vast house, apart from the deliberately lightened footsteps of the staff, only Scarlett and Quincy remained.

"Mom, you seem unhappy today," Quincy's childlike voice broke the silence.

He put down his little fork, his grape-sized eyes clear and innocent, looking directly at Scarlett.

Scarlett's heart clenched. She quickly concealed the gloom that had unconsciously appeared on her face, gently wiping a spot of tomato sauce from the corner of Quincy's mouth, trying to make her voice sound as gentle as usual, "Not at all. Seeing you eat well makes me happy."

Scarlett cut up the fried egg on Quincy's plate and pushed the milk toward him, watching as he ate carefully in small bites. Only then did her desolate heart find a hint of comfort.

Perhaps this was the only reason she was still willing to remain in this cage.

Just then, her phone screen on the table lit up, with a news notification prominently displayed.

She glanced at it instinctively, but it was enough to see the bold, enlarged words in the headline.

[Exclusive Report! Getty Group CEO Thaddeus Keeps Vigil All Night, Lavinia Admitted to Top Private Hospital!]

[Thirteen Years of Devotion! Thaddeus and Lavinia's Intimate Interaction in Hospital Garden, Enviable to All!]

Scarlett's fingertips turned white as she finally clicked on the highest trending link.

A carefully composed high-definition photograph occupied the entire screen, delivering a visual impact far more devastating than Thaddeus's cold words the night before.

The backdrop of the photo was the tranquil garden of Summit Medical Center.

Golden morning light filtered through dense foliage, casting dappled shadows on the grass.

Thaddeus sat sideways on a bench, bending down to drape his suit jacket over Lavinia's shoulders. His figure was upright, his expensive tailored suit outlining his broad shoulders. Those eyes, which always held contempt for her, were now filled with attentiveness and undissolvable tenderness, as if the person in his arms was the most fragile treasure in the world.

Lavinia leaned delicately against him, wearing an oversized hospital gown that made her appear even more small and pitiful.

She tilted her head slightly upward, tears glistening in her eyes, her face bearing a shy expression of fulfilled wishes.

The scene was as beautiful as a meticulously painted oil painting, perfectly illustrating what it means to be "a hero saving his damsel" and "a divine couple."

The accompanying text was written with genuine feeling, elaborately dramatic.

[Thirteen years ago, an accident—she risked everything for him, leaving with a chronic condition and fleeing abroad; thirteen years later, the hero returns, and he stays by her side with devoted care. There's a kind of deep love called Thaddeus and Lavinia.]

[According to reports, Ms. Collins's burn injury is not serious, but she needs to remain hospitalized due to a recurrence of her old illness. Mr. Getty has canceled all work commitments to provide round-the-clock care.]

Thirteen years.

So their entanglement had been going on for that long.

Looking at Thaddeus's gentle profile in the photo, Scarlett felt an emptiness where her heart should be, even the feeling of pain had become numb.

Her three years of careful pleasing, thankless dedication, and lonely waiting in the dead of night—all of it was just a joke, an intrusion into their "great love story."

The whole world was moved by his devotion. Yet no one knew that this deeply affectionate male lead had a lawfully wedded wife at home.

Or perhaps, in the eyes of those in the know, she, "Mrs. Getty," had long been rendered meaningless.

A very faint sound of self-mockery escaped from Scarlett's pale lips.

Suddenly, a wave of nausea churned in her stomach, rising unstoppably toward her throat.

She abruptly covered her mouth, the sudden intense discomfort making her double over. A wave of dizziness followed, causing her vision to darken.

"Mom? What's wrong? Don't scare me!"

Quincy keenly noticed something was wrong, his tiny hand nervously clutching at the hem of her clothes, his voice taking on a tearful tone.

"I'm fine," Scarlett suppressed the surging discomfort, leaning against the table and taking several deep breaths before she could manage to speak.

She soothingly stroked Quincy's head, forcing a pale smile worse than crying, "I'm just a little tired. I'll be better after sitting for a while."

This feeling again.

Over the past few days, these sudden bouts of nausea and indescribable fatigue had occurred several times.

She attributed it to prolonged emotional stress and frequent late nights working on an important voice-over script, depleting her energy, so she hadn't taken it seriously.

Scarlett leaned on the table, trying to slowly stand up to get herself a glass of water.

But as soon as she exerted herself, an overwhelming weakness spread through her limbs, making it impossible to muster any strength.

The darkening vision worsened, and her body swayed uncontrollably, nearly falling to one side.

"Mrs. Getty!" Jada, the servant waiting nearby, exclaimed, rushing over to support her. "What's wrong? You look terrible!"

"I'm fine, Jada," Scarlett managed to stand steady only with Jada's support, "Probably just low blood sugar."

After entrusting the worried Quincy to Jada and seeing him off on the school bus to kindergarten, Scarlett shut herself in the study.

She tried to numb her pierced and wounded heart with work.

But the dense text before her gradually distorted and transformed, eventually morphing into Thaddeus's tender profile from the photograph.

She finally dropped the pen in her hand, letting it roll onto the expensive carpet, burying her face deep in her cold palms, her shoulders beginning to tremble uncontrollably.

That afternoon, Owen called Scarlett to his room, took her hand, and sighed sympathetically.

"Scarlett, I'm sorry for what you're going through."

Scarlett shook her head, forcing a smile worse than crying, "Grandpa, I'm fine."

"That bastard Thaddeus!" Owen struck the floor heavily with his cane. "He must be deceived! Don't worry, I know what I'm doing. The position of granddaughter-in-law in the Getty family is yours alone, no one else's!"

Scarlett remained silent.

She no longer wanted this position.

That night.

Scarlett returned to the Getty Mansion.

The oppressive atmosphere of the Getty Manor had made it hard for her to breathe.

She preferred to be alone in this empty house.

In the dead of night, she lay in bed, tossing and turning.

After some time, her phone on the bedside table suddenly rang, sounding particularly jarring in the quiet night.

She picked up the phone, and the name flashing on the screen was one etched into her very bones.

Thaddeus.

This was the first time he had initiated contact since that family dinner.

Scarlett's heart began to race uncontrollably. She took a deep breath and pressed the answer button.

"What is it?"

"Tomorrow morning at nine, accompany Grandpa to the hospital for his follow-up."

The voice on the other end was completely flat, devoid of any emotion.

No greeting, no explanation.

As if the previous humiliation and hurt had never happened.

Scarlett held the phone, unable to utter a word.

Thaddeus, on the other end, seemed somewhat impatient and added, "You're the only one who knows Grandpa's medical history and daily medications in detail."

"And you're the only one with Dr. Murphy's contact information."

"Don't be late."

With that, before she could respond, the call was abruptly ended.

Listening to the busy tone coming from her phone, Scarlett slowly closed her eyes.

So Thaddeus still remembered her.

Not because she was his wife.

But because, in this family, only she knew best how to play the role of a qualified "granddaughter-in-law."

Thaddeus hated her, despised her.

Yet when needed, he took advantage of her without hesitation.

Scarlett curled up under the covers, burying her face in the pillow, silently laughing.

Yet the tears wouldn't stop.