Chapter 222

Clifford answered her again, his voice just as serious. “Because I can't marry you."

Those words shattered Yesenia's heart, the pieces sinking into a desolate abyss. A dull, indescribable ache settled in her chest.

She opened her mouth to speak but then lowered her head, realizing that anything more she said would be futile. They'd had this conversation countless times, and each time he responded with the same candid, heartless finality. He was just taking advantage of the fact that she couldn't leave him, wasn't he?

"I understand."

With that, she opened the car door and walked listlessly into the hotel, her silhouette radiating a profound loneliness.

Clifford watched until she disappeared from sight, then leaned back against the car window, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it, the smoke curling into the night air.

...

Latisha had been at the villa for three days, and Clifford still hadn't returned. Every day, Ziven would bring her meals, staying until she finished eating. Dr. Harmon came every afternoon to check on her wounds. The scabs on her face had fallen off, leaving only faint red marks, but the one on her knee still needed more time.

When she was alone, Latisha would lie on the sofa with her arm over her eyes, listening to the television. Suddenly, a news report caught her attention—something about a rising starlet and her mysterious boyfriend.

Latisha turned her head instinctively and saw a few blurry photos on the screen. Despite the poor quality and the digitally obscured faces, she instantly recognized the two people: Yesenia and Clifford.

So that's where he'd been for the past three days. With her.

She looked away, found the remote, and turned off the TV.

Meanwhile, the Lambert Group's stock had been incredibly volatile, dropping almost every day. Any brief recovery would be followed by another catastrophic plunge.

Rumors were flying that the O company was on the verge of collapse, though that was clearly impossible. An enterprise as massive as the Lambert Group was too big to fail. Its bankruptcy would trigger mass unemployment and a financial crisis for countless partner banks.

So collapse was out of the question, which only made the erratic stock behavior more suspicious. Anyone could see that someone was manipulating it.

Wallace summoned Clifford to his study again.

"Look at this. What the hell is going on?" Wallace pointed at the stock chart on his computer. "Who's behind this?"

Clifford frowned, studying the screen for a moment. “I don't know. We're still investigating."

"Clifford, your performance is getting worse and worse. If you don't want to manage this company, then resign and go home! Stop feeding me excuses!”

"Okay."

The single word caught Wallace off guard. "Okay? What do you mean, okay?"

"This is my letter of resignation," Clifford said, pulling an envelope from his coat and placing it on Wallace's desk.

"You..." For a second, Wallace felt a surge of rage so intense he thought he might cough up blood. "Since when did you have a resignation letter ready?"

Clifford replied calmly, "I carry it with me. I figured this day would come sooner or later."

The statement was ambiguous.

Wallace couldn't tell if he meant he

expected the company to face a

crisis that would lead to his

dismissal, or something else

vel

entirely. Regardless, Wallace's face darkened a flicker of guilt mixing with his anger. He snatched the letter, tore it to shreds, and roared, "The board of directors appointed you CEO! If you want to resign, it has to be put to a vote!"

“Oh? But isn't that just a matter of you saying the word?"

"You... you bastard!" Wallace slammed his hand on the desk, rising to his feet and

raising his hand to strike his son.