Chapter 176

Let's go home.

Us. Home.

The words fell on George's ears like music from heaven, the most beautiful sound he had ever heard in his life. His mother had died in childbirth. An illegitimate son, he had no family. He had been alone in this world since the day he was born. No one had ever said "us" to him before. And the concept of "home" had never existed for him.

And now, the girl was saying to him, "Let's go home."

As if this villa were their home. A home that belonged to just the two of them.

Even though he knew she was just speaking casually, his joy in that moment reached its peak. A genuine smile, one that came from the very bottom of his heart, spread across his face, reflected in his deep, fathomless eyes.

"Yes, let's go home," he said softly.

They turned and walked back together, side by side, like a couple taking a stroll in the rain.

Still kneeling in the downpour, Joshua was stunned. His eyes were wide as saucers, unable to believe what he was seeing. Marguerite had left with another man. And that man was George.

He scrambled to his feet, screaming hysterically, "Marguerite! Come back! Come back!"

Marguerite didn't turn around, simply covering her ears as she walked. The two figures, one strong and tall, the other slender but not fragile, quickly disappeared through the villa gate.

The gate closed, cutting off Joshua's view completely.

He collapsed back onto the ground, utterly defeated, his face ashen. His hand landed on a sharp pebble, the pain a distant sensation.

He recognized this villa. It was Marguerite's old family home. Why had George come out of there? And why had Marguerite said, "Let's go home"?

Were they living together?

Theobald's words from before suddenly echoed in his mind. "My Marguerite is living with Mr. Spencer!"

So, they really were together?

Joshua gritted his teeth, the veins in his neck bulging. George was a despicable

person. He must have known Marguerite was back first and had taken advantage of her when she was at her most vulnerable.

He had to admit, the George of today-dashing, with a fortune in the billions-was an incredibly tempting prospect. No matter how special Marguerite was she was still just an eighteen-year-old girl. She had been deceived by him, and had actually fallen for him.

She had really moved on. And she had let George into her home.

Joshua clenched his fists, feeling a real, physical pain in his chest for the first time. Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably. He covered his face with his hands, letting the rain beat down on him.

Marguerite was so foolish. George was just a low-life from the slums, an illegitimate son, and a total pervert. How could she fall for someone like him?

Snot and tears mingled on his face. Joshua couldn't accept this reality. The rain soaked him to the bone, and he shivered from the cold. There was no point in kneeling anymore. Marguentes heat was truly no longer his.

But he wouldn't give up. He would carefully consider his next move. He would win her heart back.

In the pouring rain, he pulled himself

up from the ground and cast one last, long look at the villa. Then, he grabbed his umbrella and got into his yellow sports car The door. slammed shut. With a rear of the engine, the car started, made a U-turn, and drove away.