A Force Love Contract With GANG LEADER

Chapter 64: It’s My Fault



Kate went back to her study and seemed to hear Tristan reprimanding Laura.

Since she came here, she had never heard him speak to Laura in this tone. Kate felt guilty for bringing this trouble to Laura.

After a while, Tristan’s footsteps faded away, and then came the engine sound of his car, and then it was silent again.C0ntent © 2024 (N/ô)velDrama.Org.

Laura knocked on the door and came in. She apologized, “It is my fault. I should not let you help me. And the room…” She changed her mind and said, “Did Mr. Fox blame you?”

“No.”

“OK, then.”

Laura left sulkily. Kate pressed her palm for a while and found it didn’t bleed, and then put a Band-Aid on it.

Tristan didn’t return that night.

It was true he didn’t return this time. And the room was locked.

He sometimes didn’t come back to sleep. Kate knew it was normal. This was just a second home for him. It should be abnormal if he lived here all the time.

When Kate cleaned up for bed, she looked into the person in the mirror. She smiled in the mirror. She had not smiled heartily for a long time, and now her smile felt stiff in the mirror. She saw her dimples and sighed. They were to be blamed.

The next day, the gallery delivered the oil painting and asked where they wanted to hang it. Kate told them to put it away first. After staring at it for some time, she got back to her book, but she could not finish one page for half a day.

At last, she dragged the fat cat sleeping on the couch and said, “Fatty, let’s go for a walk. You can lose some weight as well.” The cat gave out a wail.

On the third day, Kate received an unexpected call. The caller said she was Jessie and wanted to see her.

“Kate White, high school drop-out, came to LA three years ago, has worked as a waitress, supermarket clerk…”

“Tristan Fox graduated from Ivy University, CEO of Chasin Group, Top 10 successful businessmen in California, estimated net worth of…”

In a private compartment of a café with excellent sound insulation, Jessie Harderson used her standard broadcasting tone to fill Kate in on the background of Tristan in sharp contrast to Kate’s.

Kate, who sat opposite from her, frowned slightly and straightened her back.

Jessie smiled and said, “Don’t take this the wrong way. I am not humiliating you. I am showing you the facts, the differences between you two. It is not normally such a big difference. He is not going to marry you.”

Kate replied immediately, “I am not going to marry him either.”

“Oh?” Jessie was startled. “You don’t like him?”

“Of course not.”

Jessie showed some relief, “Then you just did it for money?”

This bold questioning annoyed Kate, and she bit her lips and asked instead, “Are you his wife?”

Seeing Jessie speechless, Kate continued, “No? Then who are you to talk with me about this?” She had lived with that man for a couple of months, and she learned the sharpness in speaking unconsciously.

Jessie wasn’t annoyed at her words. She just said lightly, “How can I be? His wife died many years ago.”

It was Kate’s turn to be surprised this time.

Jessie raised her eyebrows. “You didn’t know?”

Kate shook her head.

“His wife died eight years ago. He didn’t even mention this to you? Then you are just…” Jessie omitted the latter half of the sentence-just a mistress.

Finding this starting point, she continued, “I saw a photo of his wife. She has…” she fixed her eyes on Kate’s face and said word by word, “…a pair of dimples.”

Seeing Kate lower her head, she knew Kate already knew that. This should be worked out then.

“We have known each other for about five years. If it was not because of you, we might be preparing for our wedding. The reason why he wants to be with you is because of some obsession. I will be straight with you. How long does he want you to be with him? How much has he given you? I will give you double if you leave him.”

When they left the café, Jessie offered to send Kate back, but she declined, insisting she wanted to go shopping. Jessie didn’t persist and walked gracefully to the parking lot.

Watching her leave high and mighty, Kate compared her to a white swan. She was extremely proud. Kate expected she would be poured with coffee or pushed hair before she came to meet her.

But she was astonished to hear what she told her. The beautiful woman in the photo was dead. And she had broken the photo frame.

Immersed in her thoughts, Kate walked into a department store.


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