Chapter 47
If he truly can’t keep his promise, I could always walk home. Southern Hill isn’t too large, and it’s not like it’s an impossible walk. Besides, it would be great if he could really clear my name from this plagiarism accusation.
With that thought, Myra fell silent, her gaze drifting out the car window. Tony, noticing her downcast expression, arched a brow, his eyes briefly glancing at her.
The car soon entered the mansion area, surrounded by sprawling gardens. Southern Hill was home to many affluent families, but none had a mansion as grand as the Hart Residence, which stood out in the area.
It took nearly five minutes to drive from the main gate to the towering European-style building. A large swan-shaped fountain stood proudly outside, with a grand mansion beyond it, white walls and red bricks framed by trees. It looked majestic and intricate at the same time.
Even Myra, who had seen various types of mansions, couldn’t help but marvel inwardly. The Hart Family truly was the most prestigious in Bradfort City.
Tony, who had been resting with his eyes closed, opened them and met her gaze. She quickly spoke up before he could say anything. “You go ahead and take care of your matters, Director Hart. I’ll take a stroll in the garden while I wait for you.”
She was defensive, probably due to his earlier joke about marriage. If I go inside with him, how will I explain my presence to his family, especially to Old Master Hart? I want to avoid any unnecessary embarrassment.
Tony frowned slightly at her words but didn’t argue. “The garden’s pretty large, so take your phone with you. I’ll call you when I’m done,” he said, a touch of nonchalance in his tone.
Myra nodded, subconsciously tightening her grip on her phone.
A small smile tugged at Tony’s lips as he observed her reaction. Before stepping out of the car, he reached toward her, brushing his hand across her forehead.
“Are you running a fever?” he asked, his tone calm.
Myra’s face turned crimson, and she suddenly felt annoyed by his earlier gesture. What was he doing? I thought he was just checking for dirt in my hair. But no—he had actually touched my forehead.
Her skin tingled where his hand had been, and she couldn’t shake the warmth that lingered. Annoyed but flustered, she quickly opened the car door and stepped out.
The Hart Residence garden was enormous, and as the evening lights came on, the bushes and flowers around her were bathed in a soft, romantic glow. The pebble paths and fresh air were almost enchanting. But after a brief walk, she realized she had become disoriented.
She sighed, irritated with herself. I should’ve known better. The garden was huge, and now I’m lost.
Just as she considered sitting down to wait, she heard a faint sound—a soft sobbing. Following the sound, she found a young boy, around eight years old, sitting by a flower bush, his face streaked with tears.
“My parents—why do they have to divorce? Sob… Sob… I don’t want them to…” he mumbled quietly.
The sight of him tugged at Myra’s heartstrings. She froze, memories of her own childhood rushing back. She remembered running to the garden years ago, crying out to a god she thought existed, begging for her parents to stop their divorce.
Without thinking, Myra stepped closer to the boy.
“Who’s there?” he looked up, startled. He quickly wiped his eyes, his handsome face tightening in embarrassment. “I didn’t cry! Some sand just got in my eyes.”
Myra smiled warmly, understanding how he felt. She didn’t call him out on his lie, recognizing the same vulnerability she once had. The boy’s face reminded her of Tony’s—he likely belonged to the Hart family.
She smiled at him. “I’m lost. Can you help me get back to the fountain?”
The boy frowned, confused. “Are you a guest?”
“Well… I suppose so,” she replied, thinking that since Director Hart invited her, she could consider herself a guest. “I was just taking a walk, but I got turned around.”
“This is my great-grandfather’s house,” he said matter-of-factly, “so it’s huge. Don’t feel bad—I got lost here the first time too.”
Myra’s gentle expression seemed to ease his tension. He jumped off the stairs, determined. “I heard Uncle Tony’s coming back tonight. You must be his guest! Come on—I’ll take you back to the fountain.”
She couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. The boy quickly walked ahead, leading the way.
In no time, they arrived back at the fountain. But there was no sign of Tony or Leo—only a few security guards nearby.
“I’ll wait with you here until Uncle Tony comes back,” the boy said, concern flickering in his eyes.
His kindness touched Myra. She reached out to ruffle his hair, remembering how her own mother used to do the same. The boy stiffened at first but then relaxed under her touch.
“What’s your name?” he asked hesitantly, looking up at her.
“Myra. Myra Stark,” she replied, her smile gentle. “You can just call me Myra.”
The boy blinked in surprise. “Are you Uncle Tony’s girlfriend?”
Myra laughed lightly, surprised by his bluntness. “No,” she replied quickly. “I’m not.”
“Oh…” He pouted slightly, clearly disappointed.
Seeing his expression, Myra flicked his forehead playfully. “You’re just a kid. Do you even know what a ‘girlfriend’ is?”
He immediately backed away, feigning indignation. “Of course I do! But you’re not my uncle’s girlfriend, so I’m staying away from you!”
Her smile deepened at his antics.
Just as she was about to respond, a soft voice called from behind. “Henry!”