My One-month Marriage With Mr. Hawkins

Feeling quite confused, Florence asked, “Dad, what’s Stanford busy with?”

Alexander’s hand holding the chopsticks paused, a trace of embarrassment flashing through his eyes.

Pressing his lips, he looked hesitantly. He didn’t answer.

Victoria cast him a glance and answered with a smile, “He’s busy with his business. Although we are isolated from the outworld, we still operate on a lot of businesses in secret. If there’s any bigger issue, your brother needs to take care of it by himself.”

As she spoke, Victoria picked up a piece of eggplant and put it in Florence’s bowl.

“All right, Flory, those things should be left for the men to worry. As women, we should be worry-free. Good girl, go ahead with your breakfast.”

Since Victoria said so, Florence couldn’t insist on questioning.

However, for some reason, she felt quite uneasy.

In the following three days, Ernest didn’t show up in Florence’s room at all.

He was super busy every day. He would only reply to her after receiving her messages for a long while. All his replies were quite short. He had never told her what he was busying with exactly.

Florence held the phone all day long. She couldn’t go out of the villa. She felt more and more wronged.

Tammy brought her a glass of milk in her room, only to find that Florence was sitting in front of the window in a daze. She gazed at the darkness outside it without a blink.

“Little Miss,” Tammy called her gently.

She walked to Florence. “It’s already ten. I don’t think Mr. Hawkins would come here tonight. You should go to bed now. Please don’t sit here. The wind is so strong.”

Florence sat stiffly, shaking her head weakly.

“I felt a bit hot, so I want to be cooled down by the wind. Tammy, you can go to bed now.”

She didn’t have any other things to do now. She could only sit by the window, persistently expecting Ernest who would probably appear.

Since it was this late, basically he would never show up again tonight.

Tammy heaved a sigh. She stared at Florence with complicated feelings in her eyes for a long while.

After hesitating for a while, she whispered, “Little Miss, do you think if Mr. Hawkins had given up?”

Florence was taken aback.

Tammy added, “As far as I know, Mr. Hawkins is one of the Turner family, which has more complicated relationships and interests. Although they always appoint one successor, all of them are quite ambitious. Their internal competition is quite fierce.

the family, so he has snatched the successor’s qualification from

The Turner family must have put a lot of pressure on him. I can’t imagine how many burdens are on Mr.

She had known that Ernest was in a lot of difficulties, but she had never expected that he would be

to imagine how he had gone through the

was

slightly changed. She thought

a pressure, anyone would choose to give up, which

the novelty. Mr. Hawkins has been after you all the

his goal, his persistence would

such pressure, it was quite natural for him

shook slightly. For some reason, she found it difficult to breathe

face, she stubbornly shook

isn’t that

isn’t that kind of man as well. However, judging from his attitude these days... Little Miss,

a low voice. Her words were full of care

lips tightly,

man. She believed that his love for her wouldn’t be so

contact with her. He even seemed quite cold and didn’t

she was, Florence still felt uneasy and panicked. She wondered what was in

depressed, sitting by the window until

“Ding-dong.”

tone for the

phone and saw a message

message suddenly, asking her

messages to greet her in the morning and at night

“goodnight” that made her extremely

sending her a “goodnight” and asking her to go to be, he would keep silent for

even had no idea what on earth he was

want to interrupt him. After receiving his “goodnight”, she would also reply to him “goodnight” and go to bed

however, she felt so

her cell phone and sent him a message: “I can’t

after the message was sent, she heard the ringing tone. It

the incoming call, Florence felt delighted,

phone call from him in

swiped to answer. Suppressing the joy in her

“Why can’t you sleep?”

low,