Chapter 212
When Gina heard this, she glanced at her son. Her expression instantly changed. Gina had been Silas’s mistress before marrying into the Allen family. Before Owen, Silas had a daughter, Alyssa Allen, with his first wife. Unlike Owen, Alyssa excelled academically from a young age, studying abroad and proving herself capable. However, after Silas and his ex-wife divorced, Alyssa lived independently and remained distant from them. Their relationship grew strained over time. Owen, however, was less capable, so Silas still entrusted many company matters to his eldest daughter. Silas remained unaware of Owen's activities, but Gina did.
At the mention of Alyssa taking advantage, Gina's expression hardened. “Got it. Don’t worry. I’ll handle them,” she said.
Owen breathed a sigh of relief. He and Gina had spent over ten years securing their position within the Allen family. At this critical juncture, they couldn't allow Alyssa to reap the rewards of their efforts.
At Icovine Estate, Emma was preparing for bed while Liam worked in his study. Levi was providing a debriefing over the phone, detailing serious matters including financial statements and competitor analysis. Suddenly, Liam asked, “What kind of wedding gowns do women usually like?”
Levi was taken aback. He hesitated, then realized Liam hadn’t been paying attention. Politely, he said, “Mr. Hall, are you concerned Madam dislikes the gowns you selected?”
Liam couldn’t articulate his feelings. While Emma had seemed happy trying on gowns at the bridal shop, he hadn’t seen the expected excitement. He merely hummed in response, his displeasure evident.
Levi offered comfort, “Perhaps Madam isn’t fully prepared, Mr. Hall. Don’t worry; the dresses you chose are exquisite. I, myself, would be tempted.”
Liam listened, then slowly said, “Do you think your taste is comparable to hers?”
Levi was speechless, feeling subtly dismissed without concrete reason. Liam, seeing the conversation was unproductive, hung up. Regardless of others' preferences, Emma's opinion was paramount.
Alone in his study, Liam wasn't worried about Emma disliking the gowns; she could design her own. Effort and expense were inconsequential if it pleased her.
His true concern, unspoken, was that Emma didn't want to marry him. This thought led him to the window, where he lit a cigarette, the smoke offering a moment of solace. After composing himself, he returned to the room, determined not to let his anxiety affect Emma.
However, Liam overheard a phone conversation from the bedroom. Emma, emerging from the shower, spoke, “…the one you gave me before was too small. It’s not enough. If I don’t prepare properly, Liam will be disappointed… It’s troublesome! That’s because you’re single. You don’t understand our relationship.”
Liam, slightly surprised, didn't understand her words, wondering what she was planning. He wasn't in a hurry to eat.
At that moment, Emma rushed to the computer, her knee striking the table corner. She hissed in pain, then transferred funds online.
Liam's heart ached. He sent her to open the door and sew. She opened her mail and downloaded photos—magnificent wedding gowns. She meticulously examined details, clearly prioritizing her selection. Liam’s anxiety abated. Emma, it turned out, had been quietly reciprocating his feelings in her own way.
Liam watched Emma's back, overwhelmed with emotion. He inhaled deeply and approached her. Before she could react, his arms encircled her waist, his lips gently touching the back of her neck.
Emma leaned into him, asking softly, "Hubby, when did you get home?"
Liam buried his face in her hair, his eyes brimming with emotion. Emma, wrapped only in a towel, adjusted it to prevent it from slipping. Liam inhaled her delicate fragrance. She seemed unperturbed, her words charming: "I’m secretly working hard. This way, I can choose your wedding gown properly."
Before she could finish, he lifted her into bed. "Careful. Don't catch a cold," he murmured, his touch lingering on her exposed skin. He saw her slight tremor and noted it was indeed cold.
Liam’s heart ached anew.
Emma giggled. "I'm just trying to secretly work hard to amaze you."
Liam remained silent, his gaze fixed on her knee. His touch caused her to flinch, and she explained the injury. Liam’s eyes narrowed. Then, Emma sneezed. "You've caught a cold," he stated. Emma's eyes darted away. "No way!"
"You need to warm up," Liam said. He anticipated covering her with a blanket, but instead, he undid his tie and gently lifted her into his arms. The warmest thing, he knew, wasn't clothes, but his embrace.