The Man I Couldn’t Escape Chapter 07
The Weber’s mansion.
Logan Weber, Rayden’s grandfather, sat at the head of the table. “Why didn’t you bring Leila?”
Rayden’s hand, holding the wine glass, paused almost imperceptibly.
Unbidden, the image surfaced before his eyes: a week ago at the police station, Lorelei’s eyes, reddened by anger and despair.
A strange tightness seized his chest, and he instinctively felt stifled.
“Did you upset Leila again? I knew it.”
“Hurry up and make it up to Leila!”
“If you can’t, then don’t bother coming next time.”
Logan snorted coldly, his expression turning sour.
Rayden released the wine glass. “Leila isn’t really angry.”
“I’ll talk to her properly when I get back.”
Over the past three years, he had come to understand her temperament—cold on the outside, warm within. Perhaps it was her upbringing; she had never even spoken harshly.
“Don’t always take advantage of Leila’s good temper, do you hear me?”
Rayden glanced at the wedding ring on his finger, not noticing the unconscious softening of his expression. He replied quietly, “Mm.”
Rayden glanced at the wedding ring on his finger, not noticing the unconscious softening of his expression. He replied quietly, “Mm.”
After dinner, Rayden walked toward the balcony with a cigarette.
As he exhaled smoke, a sudden thought stirred in his heart.
Three years ago, on Market Street, he had met Lorelei for the first time.
He had forced her to stay by his side. He didn’t deny it; he had indeed wanted to spite Natasha. But aside from Lorelei, if he had to choose another woman back then, he couldn’t guarantee he could have kept up the act.
The cigarette butt fell onto the windowsill, and a sudden thought crossed his mind.
Perhaps… it wouldn’t be so bad if this act never ended.
With that thought, Rayden immediately called his assistant.
“Mr. Weber?”
“…I need you to take care of something for me.”
“Next week is my third wedding anniversary with Leila.”
“That yacht I bought last time, have someone engrave Leila’s name on it. Also, make sure the rooftop on San Francisco Centre is decorated properly. No roses—Leila doesn’t like them. You can lay some artificial snow, she…”
The assistant took note of everything. “Understood, Mr. Weber.”
“So, what excuse do you want to use to leave early this time, or at which part do you want an incident to happen? I can arrange it.”
Rayden froze for a moment, his fingertips stiffening.
“None of that is necessary,” he said coldly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “It won’t be necessary in the future either, understand?!”
The assistant paused on the other end. “…Understood, Mr. Weber.”
The call ended, and Rayden was about to turn off the screen.
Just then, a message from Natasha popped up.
Between the lines, she was still blaming him for not bringing her to the Weber’s mansion.
After a long silence, Rayden went downstairs, got in his car, and left.
At the Serrano’s mansion, shards of glass were scattered at Natasha’s feet. When she saw Rayden enter, her eyes were red as she pressed her lips together.
“You’re all still upset about me going abroad, aren’t you?”
Looking at the mess before him, Rayden frowned almost imperceptibly. After a moment of silence, he looked at her. “It’s all in the past.”
“Then why won’t you take me there?!”
“I’m about to be your wife, about to be a member of the Weber family. Why can’t I go with you to the Weber’s mansion?!”
Rayden’s frown deepened, as if he didn’t understand her words.
“Our past is over. I’ve let it go. I’m married, and I never thought about divorce, let alone remarriage.”
The vase suddenly slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor.
Natasha looked up in disbelief, tears streaming down her face. But Rayden no longer went to comfort her as he used to.
The door closed. He answered a work call and turned to leave.
A week seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.
By evening, the entire Pier 7 was covered in ‘snowflakes.’ Countless passersby stopped to watch, and some even squeezed to the front for a better view.
Amid dazzling lights, a luxurious yacht slowly docked.
“Lorelei… why does that name sound so familiar?”
“No way? Is this Mr. Weber… preparing this for that woman?”
“Who would’ve thought, Mr. Weber is such a romantic. After all that happened, he still doesn’t mind that woman…”
Rayden looked at his assistant beside him.
“Before Leila arrives, remove all the photos from trending topics.”
“If Leila hears any rumors later, you can forget about your salary this month. Pack your things and get out.”
The assistant unconsciously wiped his sweat and hurried off to handle it.
He waited for who knew how long, but Lorelei still hadn’t arrived.
Rayden’s palm, clutching his phone, was gradually soaked with sweat. Staring at the silent chat window and dozens of missed call alerts, a strange anxiety pressed on his chest.
Just as he opened his contacts again, footsteps sounded behind him. He breathed a sigh of relief, lips curving into a smile, and turned around immediately.
“Leila, you…”
He was interrupted by a deep male voice.
“Are you Rayden?”