Like others, she had found out about her brother's marital problems through the media. Despite her unyielding persistence her brother still refused to breath a word of what had transpired between Charlene and him except that they were separating and her sister-in-law had moved into their apartment by the beach. As much as she prayed for the two, she knew some things could not be forced; love in particular was one of them.
More than anyone else, she knew only too well the pain of ill-fated love.
In the meantime, imprisoned in his own home by the constant cluster of reporters, her brother could only attend to business remotely, on matters he could not attend to personally her husband and her shared the inherited responsibility.
As soon as their car was within the proximity of the apartment complex where they dwelled, a huge crowd of reporters came forth, surrounding them. The flashing from the cameras and the knocking on their windows, made Gillian grow uneasy.
Confined to their car, unable to exit, her husband called building security for assistance while he angrily glared through the glass windows.
Had the media been just as fierce to her husband seven years ago?
Had she been too selfish to consider the aftermath that followed?
Endless questions greeted her the moment she stepped out of the vehicle and into her husband's protective arms while the building security team of six surrounded them, protecting them from the aggressive reporters coming from all sides.
"Mrs. Chen, how do you feel about your brother's marital problems?"
"Are your brother-in-law's marital problems affecting his work performance, Mr. Chen? Will this affect Chung Enterprises' stock price?
"Does Mr. and Mrs. Chung know about your sister-in-law's infidelity yet, Mrs. Chen?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Chen, please look this way."
Unconsciously, she leaned closer into her husband's safe embrace while he guided her forward as the team of security guards pushed the reporters back, weeding a path for them. As they about reached the entrance of the building, a forceful middle-aged male reporter pushed through two guards, accidentally shoving his camera right into her.
"Ahhh," she cried in pain, while the culprit continued to take her picture, one shot after another, not at all remorseful for his actions. Instantly, the arms of her husband loosened from around her body as he flew toward the male reporter, his left hand gripping the collar of the other's shirt while his right hand swiftly brushed the large camera to the floor. Then to her surprise, he threw a strong punch, causing the elder man to fall to the ground.
"Don't you dare come near my wife! That goes for all of you!"
*
Once inside the expensive compounds of his penthouse, Edison let out a frustrated growl.
How could he have failed to protect her?
How could he have not seen that reporter coming?
His tolerance for the pestering media fell another notch when he took another glance at his wife resting on the couch, the bruise located on the corner of her forehead becoming more evident. Drawing a deep breath, his anger grew once again, wishing he had punched the rude reporter a few more times.
"I'll get you some ice," he offered.
Taking a seat beside her petite figure, he placed the small ice pack on her forehead. Unconsciously, his gaze lingered on her delicate features, taking in each contour of her beautiful profile until his eyes met hers; each drawn in by the other's mesmerizing gaze.
Unknowingly, Edison began leaning forward, decreasing the distance between the two with each passing second; his nostrils filled with the soft floral scent of her perfume. Meanwhile, his wife's long lashes fluttered several times before finally concealing her adoring eyes; silently offering herself to him.
Edison's gaze swept across her beautiful features once more, his heart growing with yearning and raw desire. There was nothing he wanted more than to taste her sweet lips. Mere inches from his destination, he suddenly turned away; the memories of Amanda making him suffocate with fear and hostility.
Women were all the same.
He had sworn never to trust another woman again.
Rising from the couch, he made his way to the balcony windows where his eyes landed on the crowd of reporters far below.
After several minutes, movement from behind alerted him of his wife's presence.
"The reporters. Were they the same way after I had left?" The tone of her voice was soft and uncertain.
The unexpected question brought a twisted smirk to his lips, recalling all the occasions he endured the harassment from the media. "Why the sudden interest?"
His eyes bored into her uncertain face, noting how she uncomfortably looked away.
"When I decided to leave seven years ago. All I knew was I couldn't marry a man I barely knew. I couldn't let my life be dictated by others," she drew in a deep breath, "I never thought about the aftermath. I certainly never thought about you. I'm sorry."
Her apology caught him by surprise.
The ever-so prideful Gillian Chung was apologizing to him.
"It's a little too late for an apology, don't you think?" Despite his softening heart, he refused to let her or anyone else see his weaker side. "Be prepared to pay with the rest of your life."
In response to his words, his wife's lips pursed together remorsefully, bringing unease to his heart.
Did he really want her to pay?
*
Inside the brightly-lit office, his eyes trailed along the male figure as it headed over to the small open bar. 'What's happening over in Chung Enterprises?"
"Nothing unusual. Kenny Chung has been out of the office the last few weeks. Edison Chen has taken over most of his responsibilities," he answered.
The smirk that appeared on the other man's face made him inwardly hurl in disgust. There was nothing more he hated than a man that stole another man's wife.
Had it not been for their mutual interest in seeing the destruction of Chung Enterprises, he would not bother wasting another minute speaking to the man. But he knew better than to voice his opinion. There was a greater goal to be accomplished and he was not about to jeopardize that.
During numerous meetings he watched in raged jealousy as his former fiance smiled and nodded affectionately, clinging onto her husband's every word.
Once upon a time, those endearing expressions had been reserved for him only. He will never forget the pain he endured from her betrayal.
For that very reason, when Nicholas approached him one night at the bar he frequented, proposing a way of destroying Chung Enterprises, he did not hesitate to accept. He had lost hope that Gillian would realize her grave mistake and return to his side.
He had misjudged her.
She had chosen wealth and power over him.
She had broken their bond.
If money and power were what she cared about, he would make sure she endured the pain of losing both.
"Has anyone been suspicious of our plans?" Nicholas asked before emptying the entire glass of vodka into his mouth.
His head shook slightly. "No, I know Gillian very well. She may be smart but she's too trusting. She will never able to guess the true motive behind our collaboration."
"Good," the other nodded approvingly, barely able to contain his delight.
Rising from his seat, he began towards the door. "If there's nothing else, I'll be in my office."
How often have even the greatest men fallen victims from their own clouded emotions?
How often are mistakes realized only after it is too late?
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