Chapter 11

When Milani regained her composure, her expression instantly turned to disdain. She didn't believe for a second that Emmanuel had a wife. Laughing off the idea, she remarked, "You must have gotten the money from loan sharks. Now you want to rub it in my face. That's why you're spouting such lies. What a joke!"

I was at Emmanuel's house yesterday, and it certainly didn't seem like he had a wife. If he does, why would he go on a blind date with me? Doesn't he care about committing bigamy?

Seeing her doubt, Frederick panicked. Emmanuel had to tug on his arm. Saving his mother was the most pressing matter. Why did he care what this woman was saying?

Noticing Emmanuel, Milani didn't hide her sneer. "Emmanuel, I heard you have a wife. Who would marry you? Send me a photo of her so I can see what she looks like."

Naturally, he wouldn't send Milani a photo of Mackenzie just to embarrass her. First, he didn't have a photo of Mackenzie. Second, she wouldn't believe him even if he did. Third, Mackenzie wasn't actually his wife, so what was there to brag about?

He remained silent, pulling Frederick toward the operating room. Their most important task was urging the hospital to operate immediately.

Her amusement grew at his silence. "Hmph! You two are just a couple of broke losers, stubbornly clinging to your pride and dignity!"

That evening after work, Emmanuel headed home on his electric scooter; he couldn't afford a car.

During the journey, he worried about Frederick. They'd scheduled the operation, but it would take Frederick years to repay the money. He could take his time paying off his mother's sixty thousand. But how would Mackenzie react to a years-long delay in repaying the two hundred thousand he owed her?

Preoccupied, he accidentally rammed into a Bentley while turning a corner.

Bang!

The impact threw him to the ground. Looking up, his face fell. Damn it! That's an expensive car!

The Bentley's driver emerged, grim-faced. In an icy tone, he asked, "Are you all right?"

He had sounded his horn before turning, but Emmanuel hadn't slowed down. The driver considered the accident Emmanuel's fault. However, he worried; the area lacked surveillance cameras. If Emmanuel couldn't get up, the police might hold the car liable. Worse, the driver might stage the accident and blackmail his boss.

Concerned, the driver didn't berate Emmanuel, fearing he'd pretend to be severely injured.

"I'm all right! So sorry!" Emmanuel scrambled up. Although his calf was bleeding, he insisted he was fine.

He knew he'd caused the accident, and any compensation would be substantial. He quickly limped away, pushing his scooter, after apologizing.

After he left, Mackenzie emerged from the car, frowning. What was he doing? How could he drive so carelessly? Was he trying to get himself killed?

Unaware the man was her husband, the driver asked, "Ms. Quillen, should we call the police?"

"No need. It's no big deal. Take the car for a touch-up. I'll walk."

"Huh?" The driver was stunned, then nodded. "Very well, Ms. Quillen." He was puzzled. This was her favorite car. Usually, she'd thoroughly investigate, using her connections to get compensation and an apology. Why let this guy off?

When Mackenzie arrived home, she saw Emmanuel treating his calf.

The fall had scraped away a chunk of flesh; the wound was a bloody mess. He didn't flinch while applying antiseptic.

Did this guy even feel pain? Feigning ignorance, she walked over. "What happened to you?"

Startled, he smiled wryly. "Oh, nothing. I hit a Bentley."

"It looks bad. How much compensation did you get?" she asked, half-smiling.

"Compensation? I wasn't paying attention. I'm lucky they didn't arrest me," he admitted frankly.

Her smile widened. So, he knew he was careless.

If he'd blamed others, she would have raged, revealing her identity and making him pay.

But seeing him take responsibility, her anger subsided. She sat beside him and examined his injuries.

His heart raced as he saw her up close, smelling her faint floral fragrance. Was she an angel?

She poked his wound.

He cried out, "Ouch!"

"Oh, so you do feel pain!" she remarked, surprised.

"What are you on about?" He was furious. She could see how hurt he was, yet she poked his wound! She was evil!

"I'm not dead, so yes, I feel pain!" he growled.

She chuckled at his fury. Instead of answering, she asked, "Are you an idiot? With those injuries, why didn't you ask for compensation? Even two hundred thousand, they should pay!"

Her thought was: If he goes to the police and blackmails me for two hundred thousand, I'm helpless.

He pursed his lips. "Didn't I explain? It was my fault."

Mackenzie smiled sweetly, still testing him. "But there are no cameras. What a simpleton!"

He glared. "The heavens know, I know, and they know. How can you say no one knows?"

His answer stunned her. He was genuinely righteous. She couldn't let him know she owned the Bentley.

"By the way, I can't repay the two hundred thousand soon. But I will," he said, seizing the moment. He still didn't explain why he'd borrowed the money.

She saw him differently. He wasn't a self-righteous phony.

She stood, then turned. "Oh, right. If you help me with something, I won't ask for the two hundred thousand."

Emmanuel's eyes lit up. "What is it?"

With Frederick's mother's situation, he'd likely still need to borrow money from Mackenzie. Hearing she wouldn't require repayment, he was naturally curious.