The driver glanced at me meaningfully and gestured for me to proceed, so I hurriedly followed Fitzwilliam Darcy into the car. After getting in, I couldnt help but steal glances at Darcy. He sat there, eyes straight ahead, as if I wasnt even there, and I finally began to relax a bit.
"Maam, where do you reside?" the driver asked, looking at me through the rearview mirror.
"Two blocks past the World Trade Building, at The Luxe Garden," I replied.
The car glided out of the garage, and my gaze kept flickering towards Darcy. He had a very handsome face, with fine features that werent greasy, deep-set eyes, a strong nose, and sharply defined jawlines. Such a face would be a waste if he didnt belong on the silver screen.
"Do you find me handsome?" he suddenly turned his head, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
My heart raced, and my face burned with embarrassment, caught in the act of staring. "Yes," I blurted out without thinking.
The driver chuckled, and I glanced at Darcy, whose expression remained unchanged, his attention already averted from me.
I wondered if he was annoyed by my response.
"Who did you used to work for?" he asked abruptly, his handsome face illuminated by the fleeting neon lights outside, making him even more enchanting.
I quickly dispelled the mess thoughts from my mind and answered respectfully, "I used to work under Manager Amy Pond."
I remembered that Amy was expelled from The Imperial Joy because she had caused trouble with a big boss, but I didnt know why she had left in the end.
"I do recall this Manager Pond. It wasnt easy working under her, was it?"
Darcys perceptive gaze made me feel exposed, and I awkwardly laughed, recounting the story of how Amy had framed and used me.
Darcy listened quietly without commenting, and it wasnt until I was about to get out of the car that he spoke again: "How did she use you to save her own life?"
I felt as if all the blood in my body had cooled. The experience of that night was a scar buried deep in my heart, filthy and despicable. To this day, I dont know who Amy sold me to, or what crime I was framed for.
Darcy didnt press me further when he saw my reluctance to talk. He simply warned, "Edward Cullen is not someone to be trifled with. Be more cautious in the future."
I knew Edward was wary of Darcy, but after the humiliation he suffered because of me tonight, he would definitely seek revenge covertly, even if he dared not do anything openly.
A warm feeling welled up in my heart, and I smiled and nodded, "Thank you, Mr. Darcy... Maybe Ill treat you to a meal someday!"
As soon as I said it, I bit my lip in frustration. A man like him probably had many big bosses vying for a meal with him. It was presumptuous of me to think I could just invite him like that.
But I told myself it was just a way to express my gratitude. Of course, Darcy seemed not to have heard it at all, already turning his head to rest his eyes.
"Maam, we have arrived," the driver announced, respectfully opening the door for me to exit.
I thanked Darcy once more, and he suddenly opened his eyes and asked, "Whats your name?"
"Jane," I replied nervously, avoiding his gaze.
"Hmm?"
"Elizabeth, my name is Elizabeth Bennet."
For some reason, I blurted out my real name to this irresistible man, a secret I had hidden for years, now exposed unexpectedly.
I fled the car like I was escaping from a crime scene, but I could feel his cool gaze on me the entire time. I didnt hear the car start up, and my heart pounded in my chest as I ran towards my apartment.
"Mom!" Suddenly, a child appeared in front of me, arms wide.
I was startled and instinctively looked back. The Hummer had just made a U-turn and was driving away.
I hoped he hadnt seen.
I didnt know what I was afraid of, but subconsciously, I didnt want my child and family to have anything to do with my work, especially not with someone like Fitzwilliam Darcy.
"Elizabeth!" My mother rushed towards me with the child in her arms, her eyes red with tears.
"Whats wrong?" I felt the childs forehead, which was alarmingly hot.
"Mom, whats going on? Why is Charlie feverish?" I picked up Charlie and rushed out.
My mother was a rural woman with little knowledge. Seeing me so anxious, she panicked and cried, "He had a bit of a fever this morning. I thought he would get better after taking some fever medicine, but his temperature just kept rising. He was crying for you and refused to go to the hospital. Your phone wasnt reachable, and I didnt even know where the hospital was, so we just waited downstairs for you."
Of course, they couldnt reach my phone because I had given them a number that I rarely used, not the one from the club.
After finally hailing a taxi, my mother was sobbing, and I patted her back, trying to comfort her, but I started crying too. It felt like someone was pinching my heart.
Charlie was an unexpected result of Amys scheme. I had planned to terminate the pregnancy but was delayed due to my poor health at the time. Later, when my mother found out, she forced me to carry the child.
My mother claimed that the child was too developed and that aborting him would have killed me. I knew her words had no medical basis, but I followed her advice, perhaps because deep down, I wanted this child.
Because he was born out of an accident, I named him Charlie Bucket.
"I couldnt reach you on the phone, and I didnt know what to do..." My mother kept blaming herself.
I held Charlie and shook my head, "Mom, this isnt your fault. Which child doesnt get sick when theyre little?"
My mother had come from the countryside to take care of Charlie for a year. An old woman who had never seen a subway had to endure the unfamiliar citys unease and fear, and also take care of me and the child. What qualifications did I have to blame her?
Every time I brought home a thick stack of money, I could find some comfort in my heart.
I kept telling myself that all of this was worth it, at least to provide a better life for my mother and Charlie.
When we arrived at the hospital, it was almost dawn. Charlie was rushed into the emergency room, and my mother and I stood outside, both crying uncontrollably.
"Mom, its okay, everything will be okay," I wiped my mothers tears for her. She recognized the letters ICU and looked terrified when she saw them.
Because my father was pushed in here and never came out alive.
"Its going to cost a lot of money. Do you still have money?"
"I have it, Mom, I still have money," I couldnt help but cry, holding my mother. Besides money, I couldnt give them anything else.
"Your money didnt come from the wind. You took so much two years ago to treat your fathers illness. How can you still have it now?" My mother pulled me away, questioning seriously.
Although she didnt have much education, she was very meticulous. I couldnt let her find out about my job. "And the smell of alcohol on you, Elizabeth, you cant be confused." My mother said and started crying again.
I quickly helped her sit down, "Mom, where are you going? The money for the childs treatment must be given by his father."
At that time, I told my mother that I had broken up with Charlies father, so I gave birth to the child alone. The unmarried pregnancy made my mother unable to raise her head in the village. No matter how much money I gave them, it couldnt erase the shame they were pointed at.
"But the child is like this, and he doesnt even come to see him?" My mother finally believed a bit.
"We have broken up. Its already very kind of him to contribute money," I said.
"You are such a hard-working child," my mother hugged me, wanting to cry but not daring to cry out loud, her body convulsing with sobs.
Wasnt I hard-working? When I just graduated from university, I, like every college student, looked forward to a bright future. But my father fell ill, and I knelt in front of the boss with my diploma and ID card, and since then, I have been on a road of no return.
I waited until it was almost light outside, and the door to the emergency room opened.
The doctor, looking tired, took off his mask: "Family members of Charlie Bucket."
I quickly stood up, almost falling over because of the numbness in my legs from sitting for so long, and rushed to the doctor: "I am Charlies mother."
"The child almost didnt make it. What kind of parents are you?" The doctor frowned at me.
Although I had changed into casual clothes, the smell of alcohol on me was still unbearable,