Chapter 399: The Upside-Down Book

Mia stayed with Maggie until sunset, their conversation focused on escape plans. Maggie seemed more energetic with Mia's company. However, as soon as Mia left, Maggie sighed, gazing around the room.

Nathael didn't return for dinner, leaving Maggie wondering if she had angered him the previous day. Her appetite was poor, and she ate haphazardly, barely tasting her food.

Determined to avoid dwelling on her worries, Maggie retrieved her sketchbook and began designing. She hadn't made much progress on the brooch she owed Timothy, but she found solace in having initial ideas.

She settled onto the sofa, lowered her head, and began sketching. Soon, she became engrossed in her work. Her chaotic thoughts subsided, and the world seemed to quiet.

The brooch for Timothy would have two perspectives. Unlike Nathael's double-sided design, Timothy's brooch could be viewed from both the top and bottom. From the upright position, it resembled an angelic silhouette, transitioning gracefully from light blue to white, with a deep blue hem; all embellished with diamonds. Inverted, it transformed into a demonic figure, enveloped in shades of blue and black, like a midnight harbinger.

The angelic view exuded brightness and hope, while the reversed perspective conveyed a depressed, dull aura, tinged with treachery and temptation, captivating viewers involuntarily.

This concept had been developing for some time, though the precise image and details required numerous revisions.

She drew for over two hours until Nathael returned around nine o'clock, breaking her concentration. She didn't look up, but his presence commanded her attention, her eyes following his movements.

He brought no flowers this time, but he did bring a small cake. He delicately placed it on the coffee table; his dark eyes briefly met hers before he silently went to the bathroom. Hearing the running water, Maggie put down her pencil, sat up, and crouched by the coffee table, examining the cake.

The cake, no larger than her palm—approximately four inches—seemed even smaller due to its heart shape. It was a delicate, clean white, topped with a curved candle and two exquisite, tiny bears. One bear wore a suit; the other wore a white dress.

Maggie chuckled softly, finding it inexplicably adorable. Yet, as she gazed, her eyes welled up.

She knew she shouldn't touch the cake, just as she hadn't touched yesterday's flowers. But she couldn't resist the urge.

Squatting before the coffee table, Maggie stared at the cake for a long time, reaching out several times to untie the ribbon. Each time her fingertips touched it, she paused.

After a seemingly endless struggle, Maggie finally withdrew her hand, forcing herself to look away.

It's only a cake. It tastes the same.

Maggie retreated to the bedroom, trying to distract herself, but inexplicably, her eyes stung, and a powerful urge to cry overwhelmed her.

She felt ashamed of her lack of self-control. How have I become so emotional, unable to control my tears over a cake? Why do I still feel this way as an adult? Pathetic! I'm truly pathetic!

Before Nathael emerged from the bathroom, Maggie climbed onto the bed and picked up a book. She needed something to ease her unease.

However, though she held the book, she didn't turn a page. She feared Nathael would bother her later.

The thought sent shivers down her spine. He was skilled in that regard, but previously, he had always shown restraint. Now, when upset, there seemed to be no limit to his advances.

The mere thought filled Maggie with despair. Wicked, it was truly wicked!

As she considered this, Nathael emerged from the bathroom, wearing black silk pajamas. Their lustrous surface gleamed in the warm light, accentuating his handsome face.

Neither spoke. Nathael picked up some documents and placed them on the bedroom table, as if he still had unfinished business.

Maggie turned a page absentmindedly, but her gaze was drawn to him. His mood seemed slightly improved, but Maggie couldn't tell if it was the calm before the storm or if he had processed his feelings.

At that moment, Maggie's phone rang repeatedly, followed by six or seven text messages.

The sound was sharp in the quiet room. Nathael, pen in hand, paused, his eyelashes fluttering slightly as he avoided looking at her. Maggie set aside her book and picked up her phone to find messages from Lucas, using a virtual number and posing as Mr. Balslev:

"Maggie, are you asleep?"

"Did you successfully break up with him? Do you need my help?"

"I saw a doll while shopping today. I'll buy it for you next time."

A picture of the doll followed.

Maggie skimmed the messages, paying little attention; they were fake.

Mia had devised this strategy. Lucas had worried that Nathael's people might investigate. He believed that even if they were acting, they needed to be convincing. Otherwise, deceiving someone like Nathael, even temporarily, would be impossible.

Mia suggested letting Nathael see the messages inadvertently; this would make Maggie's change of heart more believable. For someone like Nathael, discovering subtle clues would be more persuasive than any spoken words.

But now, looking at these theatrical messages, Maggie felt foolish and ridiculous. Perhaps her reluctance had made her neglect them.

Maggie deleted the messages. She no longer intended to hurt Nathael. If she weren't worried about Timothy and hadn't had a glimmer of hope for survival, she might have preferred enduring another two years with Nathael—solely for his appearance.

Who cares about life, death, love, or hate? Nothing lasts forever.

Lost in thought, Maggie stared at her phone, while Nathael's gaze darkened slightly. He closed his fountain pen. The sound of it clicking shut pulled Maggie back to reality.

How wonderful it would be if people were always predictable.

She automatically glanced at him. When he seemed to notice nothing, she put down her phone, picked up her book, and began to read.

It was past ten when Nathael turned off the lamp and stood. He paused by the bed, his gaze falling on the book in Maggie's hand. He seemed about to speak. Maggie felt uneasy under his gaze. Despite trying to look away, she couldn't help but meet his eyes.

He hesitated before saying gently, "You're holding the book upside down."

3/4

Let's Start All Over Again, Shall We?