Chapter 8 – Divorced! Now What to Do?

Brettley did not know whether to laugh or to cry. He said helplessly,

“Daddy never cries.”

Nellie leaned against the headboard of the bed as she wrung her small hands together, as if she hesitated to say something. After a moment, she raised her head, looked at his face, all cold lines and hard edges.

“When Mommy left Daddy, did you not even cry then?”

Brettley stiffened at her words. He looked at her meaningfully but said nothing else. A moment later, he stood up,

“Go to sleep, I still have some work to do.”

Nellie pursed her lips as her small hands clutched at the edges of her blanket.

“But Daddy…”

“Be good.”

The man opened the door without looking back.

“Daddy will find the right person to take care of you.”

With that, the man took his long legs and walked away. Nellie laid on the small bed as she tossed and turned, worried and confused. What could she do? She seemed to have made her Daddy mad again… …… Bethan prepared a simple lunch for Neil; she had no appetite at all. Even though Nellie kept sending her messages to assure her of her safety, it was the first time her daughter had left her side, and it worried her still. After lunch, Neil carried his bag and left.

“Mommy, Auntie Anne is waiting for me downstairs. I’m going to school now!”

Bethan nodded as she sent him off downstairs. Neil had always been smart. Before returning, he had already signed himself up for art lessons. The

center was near Anne’s hospital, so she picked him up on her way after work. Bethan felt safe as she sent her son to Anne. After all, they had been through life-and-death situations together.

After sending Neil off, Bethan returned home and cleared away the dishes after she sent Neil off, but just as she finished, the doorbell rang.

She just moved in yesterday. Who would visit her? Did Neil forget something? She sighed helplessly and opened the door as she complained,

“When will you be able to…”

The words died on her throat the moment the door opened—a tall man stood outside. Brettley wore a gray windbreaker. He seemed aloof and indifferent.

“Hello.”

Different from the domineering attitude he displayed in Blue Bay Villa, he was surprisingly calm.

“Ms. Bethan, I’d like to have a chat with you.”

Bethan crossed her arms at her chest and leaned against the door as her eyes swept across his face calmly.

“What about?”

The corridors of the rental apartment were cramped and dark, and the wet smell mixed in the air made Brettley very uncomfortable. The man scrunched his eyebrows slightly.

“Can we talk inside?”

“No.”

Bethan changed her posture, blocking him.

“Mr. Morrison, whatever you have to say, just say it here.

“I’m a single woman, and I think it’s better for you not to come in, just in case you try to say that I’m plotting against you.”

Brettley screwed his eyebrows tightly together at her words. She was the first woman who dared to talk to him like that, and this woman was a maid who applied to help him take care of his daughter! Under normal circumstances, he would fling his hands out and leave, warning her who she was dealing with. The circumstances were different, alas.

He still remembered that the woman in front of him was Nellie’s favorite, thus he said again indifferently,

“Bethan, you’ve been hired. From now on, you’ll continue taking care of Nellie’s daily life.”

Bethan’s lips twisted into a disbelieving frown.

“Mr. Morrison, are you playing a joke on me? A woman like me, who behaved suspiciously toward you, that even my name is ripped off of your ex-wife, are you sure you want to hire me?”

Brettley knew that Bethan had treated her before mocking him. The man narrowed his eyes slightly. If it was not for the fact that Nellie had just come home and he did not understand the child’s temper, he would not put his pride down and hire this dubious woman. He had read up on her on his way to her apartment.

As a woman who just returned from abroad, she had no monetary issues, yet the first job she applied for after returning home was for a position as a servant at Blue Bay Villa? If not him and not the Morrison Group, what was her target?

“Wow.”

Just as the two of them were locked in a stalemate in the doorway, an exclamation of surprise from her neighbors drifted from the corridor.

“That’s… Mr. Morrison, right?”

Brettley was a successful businessman who always appeared in the financial news. Only a few in Banyan City did not know him. The voice of the man behind him made Brettley’s brows scrunch together fiercely. In the next second, he grabbed Bethan’s arm and pulled her aside, striding into the door. Slam! The door closed loudly. A neighbor’s voice came from outside the door,

“Are you mistaken?”

“How can a VIP like Mr. Morrison come to a poor community like ours and be refused entry by a woman?”

“Mr. Morrison has a fiancée, and they’ve been engaged for five years…”

Their voices gradually faded. After they disappeared, Bethan turned to Brettley, her arms crossed over her chest.

“They have a point,

Mr. Morrison. A man like you shouldn’t come to a poor community like ours.”

Brettley raised his head and silently swept his gaze across the furnishings in the apartment. Paintings were on the wall, the green plants on the table, and a teddy bear sat on the cupboard in the entryway.

With a daze, he felt as if he returned to the past—to six years ago. When he and Bethan just got married, she busied herself in the house.

“We need to hang some paintings here to make it look nicer!”

“The green plants here, and it will give you a breath of fresh air!”

“I put a little bear on the cupboard in the entry, so you’ll feel like there’s someone greeting you as soon as you enter the door…”

Brettley lowered his head as gazed at the woman who also had beautiful eyes like Bethan Peterson. This woman, whose name was also Bethan, seemed to be intentionally imitating Bethan. From the way she walked, her figure, to her favorite ornaments; she was imitating all of it! It was easy to find out what Bethan Peterson liked. Bethan Peterson was an artist with quite a generous fame as she enjoyed sharing about her life and inspiration on social media sites. Everything that appeared on the internet would stay on the internet. As long as she wanted to, she could easily find out about Bethan Peterson’s interests and habits. His gaze fell onto the teapot. He laughed emotionlessly as he gracefully sat on the sofa.

“Ms. Bethan likes to drink coffee, too?”

Bethan frowned, merely humming in reply. Brettley raised his cup and took a sip before a cold smile slowly surfaced. It was Arabica, but his wife Bethan Peterson’s favorite was Robusta. He raised his head, fingers gently rubbing against the exterior of the cup.

“What a pity, Ms. Bethan. Not only did you imitate my wife’s habits and behavior, you even designed your place to fill it with my wife’s touch…

“But alas, the coffee gave you away. My wife likes to drink coffee, but like me, she prefers Robusta.

She never drinks Arabica beans.”

Bethan paused and understood the meaning behind his words. She laughed.

“I see your ex-wife likes Robusta.”

When they were together, she accidentally found out he liked Robusta, so she told him she liked Robusta as well. If he paid more attention, however, he would have realized that the beans she enjoyed were Arabica beans.

“As I expected, you’re doing this on purpose.”

He set down his cup as it smashed into the glass tabletop, and it clattered loudly. Brettley’s deep eyes stared at her coldly.

“Going through all this effort to imitate my wife, what do you want? ‘I idolize her, so I want to be like her.’ Is that it? ‘I idolize you, so I want to imitate her to please you.’

“Which one of these two would you prefer?”

Brettley squinted his eyes at her.

“If your aim is to approach me, I suggest you give up now.”

Bethan yawned, looking bored and uninterested.

“That’s because you never loved her. No matter how much I imitate her, you won’t be interested, am I right?”

Brettley glared at her coldly, though he remained silent. His gaze did not faze as she instead opened her mouth and continued,

“Mr. Morrison, tell me: If I wanted to please you, shouldn’t I try imitating your fiancée instead? Since she can turn you from an ex-brother- in-law to a fiancé now, you must love her deeply.”

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