Chapter 8 Going Abroad
The Mancini family held immense power, and the Laperra family had relied on their support for years.
However, at this point, none of that mattered to Hugh anymore.
He went alone to the gates of the Mancini’s manor and knocked. No one responded for a long time. Only after standing there for hours was he finally allowed inside.
The manor was majestic, and Vincenzo’s father, Frederick Mancini, sat at the head of the room with a commanding presence.
After hearing Hugh’s reason for coming, Frederick chuckled coldly.
“If I recall correctly, your wedding happened a month ago,” he said. “And your bride back then doesn’t quite match the name on your lips now.
“So tell me, Hugh, just which wife are you looking for?
“It’s almost funny–I thought there was a misprint on the invitation. Surely no one would actually swap out the bride last minute, that’d be absurd.”
Faced with the absurdity of his own choices, Hugh could only clench his jaw and take the mockery in silence.
However, Frederick did not stop there. “As for the woman you’re looking for, you must mean Eleanor. She’s a wonderful girl. My son’s quite fond of her. They got married just last week and are off enjoying their honeymoon.”
Hugh stood there frozen, unable to process what he had just heard. It took him a long moment before he finally muttered lowly.
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“Impossible. You must not know that Eleanor’s suffering from a terminal illness–she doesn’t have much time left, and she’s contagious.
“There’s no way anyone in their right mind would marry her.”
Frederick only sighed and signaled for his men. “Get him out of here.”
Hugh stumbled away in a daze, struggling to accept that I had married the once–comatose heir of the Mancini family.
Then it clicked, and he remembered the gallery I had mentioned to him before.
He rushed over, only to be greeted with a door slammed in his face by Violette.
“Get lost, you heartless jerk,” she snapped.
“Now you suddenly care about Eleanor? Where were you when she was suffering? When she couldn’t sleep because the medication tortured her body?”
The door slammed shut, leaving Hugh standing outside.
Only then did the reality of my allergic reactions finally hit him. As he recalled how indifferent he had been to me during those years, the weight of regret came crashing down.
He locked himself away, replaying every moment.
He remembered how I kept up a smile to welcome him, while he responded with nothing but indifference.
He cried whenever he remembered. Eventually, he stopped eating and wasted away.
Meanwhile, his mother panicked–not because I was gone, but because no
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Chapter 8 Going Abroad
one was there to manage the company.
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She sobbed and begged Hugh to snap out of it, but he was too lost in his grief to even hear her.
Finally, after days of aimless despair, the call he had been waiting for
came in.
“We just confirmed that Eleanor entered a small African country a few days ago.”
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