Chapter 8
He didn’t return until after 9 p.m. Rosalie had been waiting and she was growing anxious, fearing something might have
happened. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a phone. Thus, she was unable to contact him.
Rosalie left her rental home and walked toward the main entrance of the residential area. She constantly looked around, hoping
to catch a glimpse of the figure she longed to see.
After a period of waiting, she finally saw a familiar figure walking toward her.
“Jon!” She breathed a sigh of relief as the figure approached.
Jonathan saw her approaching figure and was slightly taken aback.
He watched her rush to him, gasping for breath. Her face was flushed red due to the cold weather, but her eyes were bright.
“Thank goodness you’re finally back,” Rosalie uttered.
“Rosie, were you waiting for me?” Jonathan asked as he lightly brushed his fingers against her cold cheek. Feeling the coldness
of her cheek from the tips of his fingers, he realized she must have been waiting for quite some time.
“Yes, it’s so late and you weren’t back yet. I was so worried. Thankfully, you’re back safe and sound,” she said with a smile.
His gaze shifted slightly. She was worried about Jon, but not Jonathan of the Youngblood Group. He wondered if she would still
worry about him if she knew he was Jonathan Youngblood.
With a smile, he said. “I was distributing the flyers and it took some time. Your hands must be cold, right? Let me warm them up
for you.” As he said that, he gently held her icy hands and rubbed them between his palms, just as she did last time.
Gradually, Rosalie felt her hands warming up. Despite the cold day, it felt very warm.
Jon, I’m glad to have you,” she murmured.
He smirked and teased, “You must remember saying this. I hope you won’t regret it in the future.”
She replied, “I won’t regret it. Well, my hands are warm now. Let’s go back inside. I’ll reheat the food. She led him into the
residential area, oblivious to the black car parked around the corner of the street at the entrance.
At that moment, Carlos, who was sitting in the car, couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. Jonathan was warming a
woman’s hand. Carlos thought, “Well, that action could be called hand-warming. I suppose.”
He had never seen Jonathan treating any woman in such a manner, not even toward Melanie, who was once his fiancée. Even
she had never been treated like this.
Yet, Jonathan was doing this for Rosalie. She was the perpetrator of Melanie’s car accident!
Recalling Jonathan’s previous visit to the club to pick up Rosalie, who was drunk, Carlos couldn’t make sense of it.
What exactly was Jonathan thinking? And how much space did Rosalie occupy in his heart?
The next day, while reporting the schedule and work matters to Jonathan in the CEO’s Office, Carlos couldn’t help but glance at
Jonathan’s hands.
Jonathan’s hands were remarkably elegant, with long fingers and distinct joints. Even Carlos, being a man himself, found that
Jonathan’s hands were truly beautiful.
Carlos had witnessed those hands mercilessly choking someone’s neck, almost taking his life. Jonathan allowed blood to drench
them without hesitation. It sent shivers down one’s spine.
However, he had never seen those hands warming another pair of hands. Especially not when the owner of those hands was a
woman who had been in prison.
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Chapter 8
“Is there something wrong with my hands?” Jonathan’s voice suddenly sounded right beside Carlos ear.
“It’s nothing.” Carlos snapped out of it and quickly averted his gaze. He handed a card to Jonathan, saying. “This is an invitation
from the Hamilton family. They’re forming a marriage of convenience with the Xanthos family. In two weeks’ time, Yvette
Hamilton and Zachary Xanthos will be engaged. Mr. Hamilton hopes that you can attend.”
“Engagement?” Jonathan glanced at the invitation.
He naturally understood the intention behind the Hamilton family sending this invitation. After all. Melanie, the eldest daughter of
the Hamilton family who had died, was his fiancée. Moreover, Zachary and Rosalie who caused the accident. were once in a
relationship. The Hamilton family wanted to gauge his stance on this. “Let’s go and check it out.”
Carlos noted it down.
In the afternoon, Carlos accompanied Jonathan to a private hospital in the city. Access to this hospital was typically limited to
only the wealthy and affluent.
Standing outside the hospital room, Carlos watched as Jonathan opened the door and walked in with measured steps.
Carlos knew that the old man in the ward used to be a dominant figure in the city, controlling every aspect of Strico’s affairs. Yet,
his only son had run away from home for the sake of a woman.
Years later, only an urn of ashes and a child returned to the Youngblood family instead.
In the ward, Jonathan gazed at the old man on the bed. He looked at the man he should call grandfather. He wore a hospital
gown with a drip hanging from the back of his hand. His frail body had weakened over time. He appeared somewhat
emaciated
“You’re here.” Leonard uttered, looking at his only grandson.
“Yes, I’m here,” Jonathan replied.
Leonard and Jonathan faced each other in silence, seemingly accustomed to this kind of “soundless” interaction.
After a while, Leonard broke the silence. “I heard from my secretary that the Hamilton family and the Xanthos family are forming
a marriage of convenience. Even during his hospitalization, his secretary would report important matters to him daily.
“The engagement is in two weeks. I’ve received the invitation,” Jonathan responded.
“Do you plan to attend?” Leonard questioned.
“Why not?” he asked in response.
Leonard stared at Jonathan intently all of a sudden. After a long paiise, the former burst into laughter. “Good. You’re unlike your
father.”
Since Melanie’s death. Jonathan hadn’t dated any women in the past three years. Leonard was worried that Jonathan might end
up like his father, entangled in his own emotions for one woman and unable to accept the marriage of convenience between the
Hamilton family and the Xanthos family.
After all, Zachary’s ex-girlfriend was the one who caused Melanie’s death.
Jonathan naturally understood what Leonard meant by “unlike.” He stated. “Yes, I’m not him, and I won’t be like him.”
Leonard suddenly grabbed Jonathan’s wrist. His wrinkled fingers clung to his grandson’s wrist tightly as if he was exerting all his
strength. “Remember what you said today. Never become like him. If only he had listened to me back then, he wouldn’t have...
Leonard gritted his teeth, and a trace of hatred flashed in his eyes. His finger left deep red marks on Jonathan’s wrist.
However, Jonathan seemed almost impervious to pain. A faint, mocking smile curved at the corner of his lips. He wouldn’t
Chapter 8
sacrifice everything for a woman, nor would he bow down and become subservient to one.