Chapter 10
Bella had woken up, but her eyes looked somewhat hollow.
Her little face was pale, even her lips had no color.
I held Bella’s still–weak form, wanting to give her more comfort.
“It’s okay, we’ve escaped. You’ll get better soon.”
“Right, Bella?” My throat felt choked up.
Bella’s condition was truly worrying.
Maverick asked the doctor, who could only sigh.
“This child is only three years old but went through such trauma. She’s already very strong.”
“The child needs familiar, close people around her at all times–she’ll gradually improve.”
Maverick’s eyes were full of heartache and guilt: “I’ll watch over her.”
“I’ll never abandon her or leave her alone again.”
The way he looked at Bella was so sad.
But I had the strange illusion he was looking at me: “Is he talking to me?”
With Derek on the run and Chloe arrested, my case fell back to Maverick.
And now Bella couldn’t be separated from Maverick.
After repeatedly confirming Bella was physically fine, Maverick arranged for discharge.
Maverick held Bella, his voice gentle: “Bella, come home with me.”
My nose stung–he’d said those same words to me once.
After that, I had a home again.
I looked at Bella, still in a daze, and said softly: “My Bella, you’re going to be okay.”
The car drove all the way to Maverick’s villa.
When passing the neighboring house, Maverick didn’t let Bella see that villa.
Maverick arranged Bella’s living space in his villa and coaxed her to sleep.
He sat nearby, looking through investigation emails about Derek’s villa that his assistant had sent over.
“Paisley, I shouldn’t have forced you to marry.”
Maverick held his hanging head as tears dripped onto the desk.
Looking at the grieving man before me, my heart ached.
“Uncle, so you really do regret driving me away and forcing me to marry.”
13:14
My Murderer Hubby vs. My Regretful Sugar Daddy!
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Chapter 10
Maverick had already wiped his tears and stood up, opening a hidden compartment in the bookshelf behind him.
Seeing how purposefully he moved, I was somewhat puzzled.
Inside was a thick diary that looked rather old.
Opening the first page revealed a letter tucked inside–one Maverick had written to me.
I was curious what he’d written.
But Maverick didn’t open the letter. Instead, he opened the diary.
It was filled with Maverick’s handwriting and photos of him and me.
In every photo of the two of us, Maverick’s eyes were always on me.
Maverick flipped through page by page, his fingers occasionally lingering on my image in the photos.
I seemed to relive the happiest time of my life through his records.
Maverick stopped when he reached the page about my twentieth birthday.
“Paisley, if… if I hadn’t rejected you that day, you’d definitely still be okay now.”
His tears fell onto the pages as his voice broke.
“Paisley, I like you. I do like you. I should have told you that.”
I grew more shocked listening to him, covering my mouth: “Uncle likes me? How is that possible!”
“But you clearly despised me back then, acting like you regretted ever adopting me.”
Maverick’s voice continued.
“But you were someone I
