Chapter 1835: Who Is Your Employer?
Following Roxanne's instructions, Sonya rinsed her hand under cold water for fifteen minutes, instantly relieving the burning pain. Roxanne then carefully applied her homemade burn ointment—which felt like a moisturizer—and used the hairdryer on a cool setting to gently dry it. A refreshing coolness spread across Sonya's hand, providing considerable comfort. Gradually, the redness subsided, revealing the extent of Roxanne's medical skill. Sonya mused that such an ointment could easily become a best-seller.
"I'll serve the soup to the children, Mrs. Farwell. You just rest," Roxanne said, entering the kitchen. She sampled the soup, deeming it delicious before ladling it into bowls and serving each child. Archie thoughtfully brought Sonya a bowl, saying, "Grandma, this is the soup you worked so hard on. You should taste it first!"
Sonya hesitated, but Elias smiled and said, "It's rare you make soup; this is likely a first. You must taste your own creation!" Roxanne immediately served Elias a bowl. The children followed, and even Lucian joined the family for soup.
By nine o'clock, the children needed baths and bedtime, and Sonya reluctantly bid farewell to the three little ones. On the drive home, Elias wholeheartedly praised his wife, encouraging her to continue. He believed Roxanne would eventually forgive her.
"I know, but Roxanne's kindness is the reason. I shouldn't dwell on forgiveness. I should focus on being a good grandmother and mother-in-law. Perhaps I realized this too late, or perhaps the realization came too suddenly," Sonya sighed. She reflected that, as a daughter-in-law, her husband's protection had shielded her from much hardship. Elias said little more, but he believed his wife would improve.
Amidst the pulsing music and swirling bodies of the crowded bar, Elektra felt profoundly uneasy. Always associated with serenity and kindness, she found herself amidst this boisterous scene, sipping glass after glass of tart, slightly bitter red wine. The bar's wine was mediocre, yet its strength dulled her anxieties. She hoped that persevering would provide an escape.
Facing Roxanne, Elektra knew she was outmatched. Her heart, young and passionate, felt helpless. Suddenly, a well-dressed, attractive man approached. Men circling solitary women in bars was commonplace. As he sat down, Elektra snapped coldly, "Excuse me, I didn't invite you. Please leave me alone."
Most would have noticed Elektra's extravagant clothing and the sports car keys on the table, deterring them. These suggested a wealthy, privileged background. However, this man simply smiled faintly, unperturbed by her irritation.
"Excuse me, Ms. Lane? My employer wishes to speak with you about an important matter. Would you meet them?"
"Go away! I don't care who you are. I'm not interested," Elektra dismissed him, her mood sour.
"I think you'll want to meet her. She knows about your troubles and wants to help. You must hate Roxanne Jarvis, right?" the young man teased. His employer had instructed him to mention Roxanne to secure Elektra's agreement. It worked. Elektra's gaze sharpened. "What's your employer's name?"