But despite his apprehension, he didn’t find panic or disgust in Sprout’s eyes.
Instead, he saw a glimmer of shyness and anticipation slowly surfacing.
In that moment, he understood.
Their year together hadn’t been in vain; Sprout actually had feelings for him too—even if it was just the most innocent and naive affection of a young girl.
“Mhm!” Sprout pursed her lips and nodded, her eyes downcast as she didn’t dare to look at him.
“But…
but you have to wait until I graduate and come of age…”
The orphanage provided every child with a normal education.
According to the rules, orphans could only stay until they turned eighteen.
Regardless of their academic performance, once they reached that age, they had to leave, enter society, and make a living on their own.
Sprout’s voice was as soft as a whisper, but Silas Sutton caught every single word.
The light that had pierced his heart was actually willing to accept him.
In that moment, a wave of wild ecstasy washed over him!
“Okay!
I’ll wait.
I’ll wait until you graduate.
When that time comes, I’ll give you a grand wedding,” he vowed.
Hearing his own heart pounding, he pulled her into a tight embrace.
“But you…
you don’t even know my name yet.
I’m not some ‘big hooligan.’ My name is—”
Sprout looked up from his embrace and interrupted him, blinking her large, starry eyes.
“We’re both just abandoned weeds.
Do names really matter?
As long as it’s you…”
“As long as it’s you!”
Her meaning couldn’t be clearer.
Names didn’t matter.
Status and past didn’t matter.
She simply loved him for who he was.
Silas was so thrilled he wanted to throw his head back and laugh, but Sprout was an orphan.
Her words—”We’re both just abandoned weeds”—instantly made his heartache overshadow his urge to cheer.
He hugged her frail body even tighter, silently vowing to treat her well for the rest of his life.
He would never let her feel like an abandoned weed again.
But just a few months after making that vow, he suddenly vanished.
For three whole years!
Three years later.
“Chief, we’re here,” Kyle said, still accustomed to calling him by his old title.
Kyle’s voice pulled Silas out of his reverie.
He looked up to see that the car had already stopped at the entrance of The Sovereign Hotel.
Outside the resplendent revolving doors, two neat rows of subordinates stood bowing in wait.
Sean Crane stepped out first to open the door for him, while Ryan Rhodes was already boisterously clearing the way up ahead.
Silas took a deep breath.
He carefully tucked his notebook into his leather bag, zipped it up, and tucked it under his arm before bending down to step out of the car.
The hotel manager trotted over to greet him.
“Mr.
Sutton, welcome back!
Everything has been prepared exactly to your liking!”
Silas nodded.
He smoothed out his dirty, wrinkled clothes and walked into the hotel, flanked by the crowd.
The hotel boasted a luxurious interior.
The marble floors were polished to a mirror-like shine, the crystal chandeliers were dazzlingly bright, and the air was filled with the scent of high-end fragrance.
This was his world—prosperous, extravagant, and steeped in the aura of power and money.
Yet, his mind was still fixated on that dilapidated orphanage with ivy crawling up its walls.
He thought of the post-rain sunshine and Sprout’s pure smile as she handed him the four-leaf clover.
After tonight, first thing tomorrow morning, he was going to see her.
He thought, “It’s been three years.
Sprout, how are you?
Do you still remember me?”
The elevator slowly ascended, its mirrored walls reflecting his tall, straight posture and deep gaze.
Silas fixed his slightly messy hair in the reflection, his lips curling into a smile that was a mix of anticipation and nervousness.
After taking a shower in his hotel room, changing into a fresh outfit, and resting for a short while, Silas was urged down to attend his welcome banquet.
Having not seen him for three years, his subordinates and lackeys enthusiastically took turns greeting and toasting him.
The welcome banquet lasted late into the night.
Ultimately, a heavily intoxicated Silas was escorted back to his villa by Ryan, Sean, and the others.
Early the next morning, the sun streamed through the large, bright French windows, casting warm pools of light onto the teak floor of Silas’s bedroom.
Silas stretched lazily.
As he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the handcrafted Italian crystal chandelier on the ceiling.
The light refracted back and forth across hundreds of crystal facets, forcing him to narrow his eyes at the glare.
He wasn’t groggy with sleep.
On the contrary, his eyes were overly clear, as if he hadn’t slept a wink all night, or perhaps as if he had just broken free from an all-too-real dream.
In the dream, Sprout had been sitting on that bluestone rock, barefoot.
Her ankles were so slender they looked as if they would snap with the slightest pressure.
She had turned to smile at him, her eyes curving into little crescents.
That was how he remembered her.
Fifteen years old, thin and small like a child, but with astonishingly bright eyes.
Then, the tone of the dream shifted.
Sprout’s features had matured into the exact look he had imagined countless times.
Her lips moved, murmuring something he couldn’t quite catch.
She simply reached out with her small, pale hands to touch his face, his chest…
Her fingertips were slightly cool, yet the sensation was so real it made him shudder.
Silas sat up abruptly, the silk sheets slipping down to his waist.
“Damn it!” he cursed under his breath, holding a hand to his forehead.
His voice carried the hoarseness of someone who had just woken up.
He looked down at his own hands.
His knuckles had grown coarser from his three years in prison, and the scar on his arm stood out starkly in the morning light.
He quickly rolled out of bed and haphazardly threw on an ivory-white bathrobe.
Without even tying the belt, he prepared to destroy the evidence.
Just as he was frantically yanking the sheets off, bunching them up to stuff under the bed—
“Chief!
Rise and shine!”
Ryan’s voice was accompanied by the sound of knocking—not a gentle tapping, but an unceremonious BAM BAM BAM.
“We agreed we’re going to pick up your lady today!” Ryan’s voice was full of excitement, as if he were going to pick up his own girlfriend.
“Sean has everything ready, and Kyle’s car is already waiting at the door.”
Silas’s heart leaped in panic.
His face instantly flushed red all the way down to his neck, and he instinctively hugged the crumpled sheets to his chest.
“Hold—hold on a second!” he shouted, unable to hide the frantic edge in his voice.
Unfortunately, it was too late.
The doorknob turned, and Ryan poked his head in, wearing his signature wicked grin.
Right behind him was Sean, looking as scholarly yet shrewd as ever.
Given their tight-knit bond, they came and went freely in this villa.
The two of them hadn’t planned on waiting outside at all and simply pushed their way in.
Silas was still standing by the bed, clutching the highly suspicious bundle of sheets.
His robe hung open, exposing his firm chest and abs.
The morning light struck him from the side, gilding him with a golden halo, but it also mercilessly highlighted the sheer awkwardness on his face—an expression blending embarrassment, mortification, and a hint of helplessness.
“Chief, what’s wrong with you?”
Seeing him standing perfectly still with a highly suspicious look on his face, Ryan’s eyes instantly widened into saucers as he stepped into the room.
He halted in his tracks.
His gaze slid from Silas’s flustered face down to the bunched-up bedsheets in his arms, and then back up to his face.
Looking as though he had just discovered a new continent, his lips twitched.
“Huh?
No way!” Ryan’s voice jumped an octave, dripping with undisguised teasing.
“What am I looking at!
The head of Cosmos Group!
Our omnipotent Silas Sutton!
Actually…
actually…”