Chapter 3
After saying this, Rosalind stood up awkwardly, her tone humble.
"Ms. Vance, I'm sorry I didn't inform you beforehand. If you don't agree, I'll leave immediately!"
Before Elena could speak, Victor immediately stood up and blocked Rosalind's way, his eyes filled with tension.
Elena understood immediately, "It seems Miss Shaw is tacitly assuming I will refuse?"
“But you were chosen by Vincnet as his teacher, so of course I have no objection.”
Vincent nodded in satisfaction, then turned his gaze to Rosalind.
"Miss Shaw, go upstairs and choose a room. The housekeeper will help you tidy up."
Rosalind immediately chose the room at the end of the second-floor corridor.
"Mr. Sinclair, may I stay in this room?"
"I've always lived in a room without windows, and I really love this room where the sunlight can shine in!"
This was Elena's studio.
Vincent was possessive and didn't like her going out in public.
Especially after having her son, she gave up her career in order to take care of him wholeheartedly.
This studio was her only solace; she came here to paint and design whenever she had free time.
Vincent's gaze unconsciously fell on Elena, a hint of hesitation flashing in his eyes.
But Rosalind's expectant gaze and her son's coquettishness temporarily took the lead .
Vincent hesitated before speaking, "Elena, shall I have someone move your things to the next room?"
“That room is bigger and more suitable for you to draw for fun.”
Elena simply looked at him quietly.
Every corner and every pattern in this studio was designed by Vincent himself.
He once held her hand and made a promise.
"I'm sorry that you had to give up your dreams for this family, but no matter how many times you give up, I will pick them up for you."
He said this was our secret base, a sacred place that belonged only to her
But now, Vincent had personally given this room to someone else.
Vincent felt a little uncomfortable under her gaze.
"Elena, this is Rosalind's first time visiting our home. As the lady of the house, shouldn't you be more magnanimous?"
Elena nodded calmly. "I understand."
Vincent breathed a sigh of relief and was about to call the servants when Rosalind gently stopped him.
“Mr. Sinclair, Miss Vance stays at home every day, so she must know the layout of the house best.”
"How about I trouble Miss Vance to tidy up the room for me, so that the housekeeper won't be careless and break anything in the room?"
Victor grabbed Rosalind's hand and immediately echoed.
"Exactly! Mom is a housewife, and she's the best at tidying up!"
"Aunt Rosalind, you are a great designer. Your hands are for drawing. Let Mom do these things.”
Vincent nodded. "Victor is right. Elena, just pack up yourself, it won't take much time."
They all seemed to have forgotten that before she became a wife and mother, she was also an excellent designer.
Elena silently began to tidy up.
She carefully packed away her sketches, brushes, paints, and other items that carried her dreams into a box.
When she moved the last box, the pain in her back made it almost impossible for her to straighten up.
"Mom! Aunt Rosalind is eating at home for the first time, hurry up and make a big meal!"
Elena silently served the dishes.
Vincent carefully served food to Rosalind.
Victor went out of his way to piling the best food into her bowl, saying, "Aunt Rosalind , eat more!"
After an exhausting day, Elena sat on the corner of the table, like a forgotten, invisible person.
Late at night, Elena slumped wearily into her bed.
A burning hot arm wrapped around her waist, and Vincent's hoarse, lustful breath brushed against her ear.
"Honey, we haven't done this so long."
Elena stiffened and gently pushed him away. "I'm tired."
Vincent propped himself up and looked at her pale face.
He sighed, pulled back the covers, and was about to lie down again when his phone suddenly vibrated.
Vincent quickly got up.
"There's an urgent online meeting, I'm going to the study. You go to sleep first."
As soon as Vincent left, Elena received a text message.
"Excuse me. It's so hot in the room, and I can't find the air conditioner remote. Could you please bring it to me? Just leave it by the door."A strange premonition swirled in her mind.
Elena put on her bathrobe and walked towards her original studio.
"Mmm...that feels so good...a little harder..."
"Vincnet ... how about we give Victor a little sister..."
Elena peered through the crack in the door.
She met Rosalind's provocative gaze precisely.
Rosalind willingly embraced the more intense thrusts, her red lips parting silently as she clearly uttered, "So...hot..."
Inside the room, Vincent pinned Rosalind tightly against the desk, burying his face in her neck and licking and biting her , letting out familiar panting breaths.
...
From that day on, Elena received photos from Rosalind every day.
Vincent's sleeping profile rested against her bare shoulder.
Ambiguous marks on the messy bed sheets.
Sometimes it's even a short video of a few minutes.
Elena was so bothered by this that she couldn't sleep well every night.
Another sleepless morning. With a splitting headache, Elena barely managed to get Victor to kindergarten and almost missed it.
Victor jumped out of the car, his little face long and drawn. "How come Mom can't even do this little thing right?"
"Mom, don't get down! You're so slow!"
Elena could only sit in the car.
Outside the car, Victor pulled Vincent up with one hand and naturally took Rosalind's hand with the other , saying with a proud expression.
"Look! These are my mom and dad!"
Vincent did not refute.
On the way back, Rosalind, in the passenger seat , turned around and put on a fake apology.
"Oh dear, Miss Vance, the child is just talking nonsense without thinking. Don't take it to heart."
Vincent, who was driving, chimed in, "Victor was upset because he was almost late. Elena, don't hold it against a child."
A wave of soreness and tightness rose in her heart without noticing.
Elena slowly recovered and turned her head to look out the window.
She wouldn't take it to heart anymore.
Before long, she would no longer be his mother.
She didn't want any of those people who didn't care about her.
Two weeks later, she would take her mother away forever.