Requiem of a Broken Heart

Chapter 705:

For a solid five seconds, she just stared, her mind struggling to catch up. Even when she finally spoke, disbelief clung to her voice. “Why… why are you here?”

Norton lifted an eyebrow. “Why can’t I be here? I am your husband, after all.”

“Ugh.” Yvonne let out a dramatic scoff before slamming the door shut without a second’s hesitation.

Almost immediately, her phone rang. “Open the door.” His voice was as commanding as ever, filled with expectation.

Yvonne rolled her eyes and declined the call without a word.

When Norton tried again, she set her phone to silent and tossed it onto the bed.

Outside, Norton paced in frustration, running a hand through his hair. Just then, a hotel server passed by, pushing a cart. Norton’s eyes lit up. The man was dressed in a black uniform, topped with a black mask, blending in almost too well.noveldrama

And just like that, an idea struck Norton.

Keeping his voice low, Norton leaned in and spoke with easy charm. “The woman inside? She’s my wife. I messed up, and now she’s locked me out. I just want to make things right.”

Flashing a disarming grin, he added, “How about a trade? You let me take your place, and I’ll push the cart in instead?”

The server hesitated, wary at first, but after Norton confirmed his identity at the front desk and discreetly slipped him a generous tip, he relented.

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Fresh out of the shower, Yvonne was wrapped in a bathrobe, towel-drying her damp hair when the doorbell rang once again.

Annoyed, she called out, “If it’s you, Norton, save your breath. I’m not in the mood to deal with you right now. And if you’re here to dig for Rachel’s whereabouts on Brian’s behalf, forget it—I’m not telling you a thing.”

“Miss Jimenez, your meal is here,” a polite voice announced from behind the door.

Yvonne’s irritation eased at the familiar response. Outside, at Norton’s subtle cue, the real server quietly stepped away.

Peering through the peephole, Yvonne spotted what appeared to be a regular hotel staff member with a dinner cart. Satisfied, she unlocked the door. “Bring it in.”

With a slight nod, Norton kept his gaze lowered and pushed the cart inside.

Tossing a glance at the cart, Yvonne gave an offhand instruction. “Pour the wine and slice the steak for me, will you? Thanks.” With that, she wandered off to continue drying her hair.

With her hair now half-dry, she moved toward the dining area, her long hair flowing over her shoulders in effortless waves.

Settling at the table, she reached for her glass and took a slow sip of wine. The familiar taste lingered on her tongue, drawing a pleased smile to her lips.

She took another sip, then lazily rested her chin on her hand, watching the “server” carve into her steak with unexpected precision.

She couldn’t deny it—his knife skills were impeccable. Every cut was fluid, precise, almost mesmerizing to watch.

Without realizing it, her gaze lingered a beat too long.

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