Married To My Ex's Brother, Reborn Miraculously
Chapter 69: Anne’s agony

Chapter 69: Anne’s agony

Augustine felt a pang in his heart as he watched her cry. He understood how difficult life had been for her. From a young age, she had endured immense hardship.

His own eyes grew misty, and though he longed to comfort her, to promise that he would always protect her, the words wouldn’t come.

His throat tightened. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

Anne leaned against him. "I always thought that as long as Papa was here, I could endure everything. I could ignore the pain and keep smiling for him. But now, seeing him like this... And with my mother’s resentment toward me only growing, I don’t know how to go on."

"Shh..." he whispered, gently wiping away her tears and tilting her chin up. "Don’t go back there, no matter what they say. It’s not safe."

Anne nodded slightly. Ever since her father had fallen into a coma, she had started distancing herself. Now, it was time to cut ties completely.

"I just want Papa to wake up soon," she murmured.

"He will," Augustine reassured her. "For now, stop crying and focus on yourself. The company is hiring for a new project, and the interview is in two days. Prepare yourself."

A small smile broke through her sadness. "I’ll give it my best."

Augustine’s chest swelled with affection. He gently tucked a few strands of her hair behind her ear. "I know you will."

Their eyes met, and in that moment, neither of them moved away, nor did they break their gaze. His gaze, warm and unwavering, held hers captive, drawing her in as if nothing else in the world existed. The distance between them shrank, their breaths mingling as he slowly leaned in.

Anne’s pulse quickened. His musky cologne surrounded her, a heady mix of sandalwood and something uniquely him, intoxicating her senses and clouding her thoughts. Her lips tingled as he leaned even closer, mere inches away.

A delicate shiver ran down her spine, her body attuned to the charged energy crackling between them.

She closed her eyes in anticipation. In that instant, all she could think about was the moment his lips would meet hers.

Ring-Ring-Ring...

The sharp ringing of the phone shattered the moment, pulling them back to reality. They instantly pulled away, awkwardness settling between them.

"I-I... need to check the phone," Augustine stammered, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached into his pocket.

Anne leaned back in her seat, her face growing warm. She adjusted her dress and ran her fingers through her hair, trying to compose herself, but the rapid beating of her heart refused to slow.

Meanwhile, Augustine pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen. His expression shifted in an instant. It was a number he hadn’t seen in years—one from the Beaumont family mansion, a place he had nearly erased from his memory.

His jaw tensed before he exhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain composed.

"Hello?" His voice came out low and cold.

"I am the butler from the Beaumont family mansion," a formal voice responded. "The old master has returned, and he wishes to see you. He is inviting you for dinner."

A surge of anger simmered beneath Augustine’s calm exterior, though the only outward sign was the tightening of his grip on the phone.

He had severed all ties with the Beaumont family the moment they stopped sending him financial support while he was abroad. He had no desire to reconnect, let alone sit down for a meal with them. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to outright refuse his grandfather’s request.

"Okay, I’ll be there."

Without further discussion, he ended the call and turned to find Anne watching him intently.

"Are you heading back to the office?" she asked, curiosity lacing her voice.

Instead of answering directly, Augustine pushed aside his frustration and offered her a reassuring smile. "I’ll come back early and have dinner with you," he promised.

With that, he started the engine and drove away.

~~~~~~~~~~~

When Lorie stepped through the front door, her breath hitched at the scene before her.

The living room was in utter chaos, as if a violent storm had torn through it. Shattered glass from the central table lay scattered across the floor. The flower vase lay in ruins, its porcelain shards mingling with the wilted petals and spilled water. Other decorative items were either knocked over or reduced to fragments, their once-elegant forms now unrecognizable.

The furniture was in disarray—chairs toppled, cushions strewn across the floor, and a cabinet door hanging off its hinges as if it had been yanked open with brute force. A lamp lay on its side, its shade dented, its bulb flickering weakly.

Amid the wreckage, her mother sat frozen on the sofa, her posture rigid, her hands clutching the fabric of her dress. Her eyes were wide and vacant, staring at nothing, her face drained of color. She looked like a woman who had seen a ghost that had hollowed out the warmth from her soul, leaving only raw terror in its place.

Lorie’s pulse pounded in her ears as she took a hesitant step forward. "Mom?" she whispered, but her mother didn’t respond. Didn’t even blink. Whatever had happened here had shaken her to the core.

"Mom!" Lorie called out again, shaking Patricia by her shoulder urgently.

Patricia gasped, snapping out of her trance, her breath still uneven.

"What happened here?" Lorie demanded, her voice frantic as she sat down beside her, searching her eyes. "Who did all this?"

Patricia’s face remained pale as she stared ahead. "A man—just one man. He stormed in, took down all three of Mr. Robert’s guards like they were nothing, and then... he took Anne."

Lorie’s brows furrowed in disbelief. "What? That’s impossible. There is no way a single man could take on three of Mr. Robert’s guards and win. You must have been too shaken to see clearly."

Patricia shuddered as she recalled Augustine’s menacing glare, his cold, lethal presence. "No," she whispered, still gripped by fear. "He wasn’t just any man. He was like a demon. The way he looked at me when he demanded the key... I thought I was going to die."

She clutched her arms, her body trembling. "Now we’re in deep trouble. Mr. Robert will come looking for Anne, and when he does... what are we going to tell him?"

A chill ran down Lorie’s spine. Mr. Robert wasn’t known for patience or mercy. If they didn’t have Anne, they’d have to offer him something else.

Patricia suddenly grabbed Lorie’s hands, desperation flickering in her eyes. "What if we return the money?" she suggested quickly. "If we give back every penny we took from him, maybe he’ll let us go."

But Lorie’s face stiffened, and she pulled her hands away. Her gaze darted to the side, avoiding her mother’s hopeful stare.

"That’s not possible," she muttered.

"Lorie, don’t be foolish. We can’t risk going against Mr. Robert. We have to give the money back before it’s too late."

"I can’t," Lorie snapped, irritation creeping into her voice.

"Why not?" Patricia snapped back impatiently.

Lorie hesitated, then finally confessed, "Because... I already spent half of it."