My One-month Marriage With Mr. Hawkins

With her mind entangled in messy thoughts and her restless heart racing with anxiety, Florence hailed a cab to the company instead of taking the subway.

She did not report to the Design Department upon her arrival but instead make her way up to the floor where the President’s office was located.

As soon as she stepped out of the lift, she unexpectedly bumped into Timothy who was heading towards her.

Florence asked promptly, “Is Mr. Hawkins in, Timothy?”

“You’re here to see Mr. Hawkins?” Timothy gazed at her with an obscure look in his eyes and pursed his lips into a smile. He continued shortly, “I was just going to look for you. Mr. Hawkins is waiting for you on the rooftop. You may head up there to meet with him.”

What did Ernest want with her? Florence brushed away her thoughts for now as she needed to speak to him too.

After escorting her up to the rooftop, Timothy did not step out from the lift but instead went back down right away.

An open air café was situated on the rooftop and it was open for the employees to enjoy their break.

However, the cafe was hushed at the moment with no one in sight, and even the waiters were nowhere to be seen.

Florence strode into the cafe and found Ernest at the spot where the best panoramic view could be enjoyed from the rooftop.

He was seated in elegant manners, his side profile ever so captivating and magnificent.

Florence was slightly anxious from thinking about what she had to say. She took a deep breath, mustered her courage and marched towards him.

She sat down across him, and asked out of politeness, “Are you looking for me, Mr. Hawkins?”

Ernest put down the coffee cup in his hand, his glance at her constituted complex emotions that could not be apprehended. The stare lasted for a while and he finally said with husky tone, “The man you met at the Style Hotel that night…”

“You knew about that night?” Florence was utterly confounded, to the extent that her sweeping eyelashes were fluttering in shock.

In hindsight, she recalled that the man in the hotel that night seemed to be someone of great influence and prestige too. As the man behind the curtain for the Style Hotel, Ernest would have known about this incident after that man had brought about a turmoil in the hotel, exhausting every attempt to uncover her identity. It was no surprise that Ernest would get hold of her identity quicker than that man.

to you about the matter that night too.

face darkened as he implicitly realized something might not be right after noticing the earnest imploration and fear in

to spill to him about

be discovered by that man and I do not want anything to do with him in the future as well. However, I dropped my diamond-stud earrings in the room in the Style Hotel the other day which could lead to my identity being revealed, and I really do not wish for him to get hold of them. Mr. Hawkins, could you help me out by getting the earrings for me? Or else, I can get them myself as

voice getting hoarser, “You do not wish to be

the next sentence coldly, “Do you

while I was drunk and unconscious. What difference is there

replied with no hesitation, her expression displaying detestation and a bit of fear. How she wished she could have given him a thrashing if not for the extreme danger that the man emitted, and the feeling that she could not

expression; his thin lips pursed tightly while he sat bolt upright

quiet. She persistently asked with a hint of worry in her tone, "You will do me this favour right, Mr. Hawkins? I am now your fiancée nominally, so it will hurt your reputation if it was found out that

would be hurt? How nice of her to have think this through for him.

at Florence with brooding and enigmatic eyes which

feel more and more conscience-stricken. There seemed to be nothing that could be called

head, she continued while still befuddled, “Mr.

will hand you the earrings.” He stood up after finishing his words,

let out a huge

that he would pass on the earrings to her, but she knew his awareness of this incident would make investigation in the Style Hotel for that man

her identity would be

attaining the title of the President’s

among all

crowded with countless men and women displaying their feverish dance moves. The scene in the club

numerous seats to head to

Flory, let’s

don’t know how

I

stopped abruptly after taking a few steps forward. Her eyes were fixated on the VIP deck

a few young men were seated on the grand and

lights danced on his body, making him seemed utterly