Chapter 3

The next day, I moved into my perfume studio.

When Herbert asked me why, I told him that I was very busy and had to rush on orders.

I was actually very busy at that moment. My mentor, Fiona Jenson, had invited me to take part in a competition, and I was busier than a bee as I worked hard on my entry.

As for my relationship with Herbert, I just didn't have the mental capacity to deal with it yet.

On the final day of the competition, an unknown number called me. It was Michelle, and she requested that we meet up at a cafe.

She sat across from me, exuding the same amount of charm, grace, and elegance I'd felt from Herbert.

Smiling, she then spoke the iciest words possible. "Ms. Summers, if you know what's best for you, you should voluntarily give up what doesn't belong to you before I forcibly pry it away from your hands."

She behaved as if she were already the head of the Fischer family.

However, I refused to back down. I replied with a question of my own. "Even if it doesn't belong to me, who's to say that it belongs to you either?"

Michelle simply sipped on her coffee unhurriedly.

"You lost your parents at a young age and grew up in an orphanage. You were adopted when you turned ten, but your adoptive father was a drunkard. So, what made you think that you even deserved the title of 'Mrs. Fischer'?"

That was a part of my childhood that I never wanted to revisit. Yet, she'd brought it up so abruptly that my mind just blanked out at that moment.

"You've been investigating me!" I exclaimed in shock, accidentally spilling my coffee when my sleeve caught against the rim of the cup.

Michelle merely looked at me with a calm expression and handed me a few paper napkins. As her hand moved about, I caught a whiff of "Forever Love" from her.

As she stood up to leave, she left me with the words, "If you still refuse to acknowledge it, feel free to drop by Riverside Restaurant tomorrow to see it for yourself. We'll be waiting in private room 301."

I hadn't slept well for days, yet I dragged my exhausted body to the private dining room, only to see Michelle gently blowing on something hot in her spoon before feeding it to Herbert.

Herbert simply opened his mouth to accept the food without resistance.

One of his friends jokingly said, "Herb's usually a clean freak, but he's only tolerant when it comes to Chelle."

I immediately thought about that one time Herbert had gotten sick with a fever of 104 degrees and burrowed himself under the covers, looking as pale as a ghost.

I had made him some chicken noodle soup and tried feeding him, but he pushed my hands away. Then, in an extremely nasal voice, he told me, "I'll feed myself."

Back then, I thought that he was just stubbornly independent and didn't want to be a bother to me. Now, I finally realized that he had just thought I was dirty.

I pushed open the door to the private dining room and walked in. I didn't care that showing up like this, uninvited, was a rude thing to do.

I started interrogating Herbert. If he loved Michelle so much, then why had he agreed to be my boyfriend back then and lead me on like this?

My heart had run stone cold. I smiled bitterly as I asked him, "Did you enjoy toying with my feelings for such a long time? Letting me think that you were serious about us? Was it fun?"

Michelle's sharp nails dug into my arm as she pried me off Herbert.

She yelled, "Who gave you the right to speak to Herbie like that? I'm the one he loves. You're just a tapeworm that came out of nowhere. You don't even deserve to be my opponent!"

"You've got no right to meddle in our relationship! And stop it with that holier-than-thou attitude of yours!"

I'd only managed to fire that line back at her before she threw the hot stew all over me.

Michelle then grinned smugly while Herbert just frowned at me. He coldly asked, "Have you finally woken up now, Lyanna Summers?"

At that, I heard my heart break into a million glass pieces.