Whispers of Destiny: His Belated Love

Facing Rosemary's questioning, the bodyguard didn't even bat an eyelid, still sporting that icy professional demeanor, "We were ordered to protect you."

To protect her? Rosemary wasn't buying that Maxwell was suddenly playing the good Samaritan!

"I don't need anybody's protection. Go back to where you came from and stop loitering at my doorstep."

Just as she was talking, she spotted neighbors peeking out their doors in their direction. But the bodyguard stood his ground, his tone as emotionless as a parrot repeating phrases, "Mr. Templeton said if you don't want us here, he could come in person."

Great, there went her appetite - poof, vanished in thin air! She slammed the door shut with such force that the walls trembled.

Digging out her phone from her purse, Rosemary called Maxwell. The moment he picked up, she unleashed a torrent of fury at him, "Maxwell, call off your people!"

"They're there to keep you safe," the voice on the other end sounded husky as if he had just woken up.

Grinding her teeth, Rosemary retorted, "Not necessary."

"The trending topic this morning made you recognizable. You might attract some unsavory attention; where you live isn't safe."

Maxwell shouldn't have brought that up - it only fueled Rosemary's anger, "You weren't so concerned when you leaked those photos of us leaving the hotel to the media."

Back then, she was cyberbullied to the point where she couldn't even step outside, and while dodging debt collectors, she didn't even have a single voice in the online army to defend her, let alone a bodyguard.

After a few seconds of silence, the man's voice turned dark, "Who told you that?"

With a hint of mockery in her voice, Rosemary said, "Your little sweetheart, of course."

With so many eyes on them last night, Maxwell could cover up everything for his sweetheart. Otherwise, just the fact that Victoria used Maxwell's invite to attend the auction could have been enough for netizens to rip her to shreds and nail her to the pillar of shame as a mistress!

A suppressed, low chuckle came through the phone. After a while, Maxwell said, "The bodyguard issue is non-negotiable unless you want me to move in and personally keep an eye on you."

Rosemary's mind was reeling with rage, "Maxwell, can't you man up and stop clinging to me shamelessly? You could have buried last night's news, but instead, you've made it common knowledge. Are you sick? I don't need protection, and I certainly don't need you to handle my dead body!"

Taking a few deep breaths to calm her oxygen-deprived dizzy head, she added, "I've got plans to go out for dinner. Get your men out of here."

"They won't stop you."

They might not stop her, but they would follow her. Imagine dining with someone, bodyguards flanking like emotionless statue guardians. Who could stay cool with that?

"Maxwell," Rosemary forced herself to stay calm, "are you jealous? You don't want me to have dinner with Hogan, so you pull this stunt to get under my skin?"

"If that's what you want to think, I can't help it."

That wasn't jealousy; it was pure sarcasm, revenge for what she had done. Fuming, she hung up and threw the phone onto the carpet ferociously!

Soon, Yolanda arrived with a suitcase turned makeup bag, changing her shoes while eyeing the men outside, "What's the deal with those two wooden statues at the door?"

Rosemary slumped on the sofa, deflated, "That's Maxwell's crazy doing."

She suspected Maxwell had some unseemly designs on Rosemary - who knew, the man seemed deep and calculating, and she had only interacted with him a few times because of Rosemary, barely exchanging words.

Yolanda opened the suitcase, "Has Hogan said when he's picking you up?"

Rosemary glanced as Yolanda laid out a collection of vials on the coffee table, including some breast enhancement cream, "Why does that sound so weird to me?"

It sounded like she was asking when the groom was coming to fetch the bride!

"Me asking clearly is just to plan better."

Rosemary stopped Yolanda's hand, which was about to apply something to her face, "I'll do it myself, and you can keep your breast and butt enhancers, or hair removal creams to yourself."

"They're all good stuff." Yolanda glanced at Rosemary's chest, "Never mind, you don't need them." Content rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

Any bigger, and clothes wouldn't look good.

As Yolanda watched Rosemary skillfully apply her makeup, she curiously asked, "Do you really have no feelings for Maxwell anymore?"

Rosemary paused while applying sunscreen, "Don't know, but I've never wavered on the idea of divorce since it first crossed my mind. Not every couple divorces because of lost feelings. It's like a discarded toy; it's not because you don't like it, it just feels dirty."

Yolanda nodded in agreement; that made sense.

When Hogan arrived to pick her up, he was covered up even more than Rosemary, the newfound internet sensation. Hat, mask, sunglasses, and a scarf around his neck, the only visible skin was the hand tucked in his pocket.

Gazing at him, Yolanda was dumbfounded, "Are you here to take Rosemary out to lunch or to cast her in a 'Mr. & Mrs. Smith' skit?"

"Knew Rosemary would be all covered up today; just wanted to match her with a couple's set," Hogan's face couldn’t be seen, and his mood was only discernible through his tone of voice.

Hogan tilted his chin, "What's with the two in the back?"

Rosemary frowned, "Did Maxwell rough you up?"

It was more than roughing up; he had been beaten to a pulp. It didn't seem so bad last night, but when he woke up this morning and looked in the mirror, his face was red and swollen, with bruises turning blue in severe spots, looking like a pig's head ready to be cured and hung.

That sneaky man, no wonder he only went for his face last night! Still, he was a man, and he couldn't show weakness in front of the woman he liked no matter how bad it was, "It's nothing. He's just jealous I'm better-looking than him, always picking on, ouch."

Before he could even finish his sentence, Rosemary's hand had already smacked into his belly. Just last night, she had seen Hogan take a kick from Maxwell right there.

She didn't put much muscle into it, but Hogan was caught off-guard. Suddenly taking a hit like that, he couldn't help but yelp in pain.

Rosemary rolled her eyes at him, clearly annoyed, "You call this 'nothing'? Have you even been to the hospital to get it checked out?"

A gut punch could easily lead to internal bleeding!