“…”
Rafael sat and watched her face.
No one in the President’s office had been able to sleep peacefully these past few days, and Carrie was no different, veiled and without a trace of makeup, with a very faint mark showing on one side of her face.
After so many years, that mark was still faintly visible, showing how hard she had cut for Paige back then.
He looked on and gave a mocking laugh, “If I sold Paige again, you’d hate me, wouldn’t you?”
At that, Carrie shook her head, “Sister Paige taught me that I can’t look at a President’s position with my own, I don’t hate you, not to mention I know that you’re under a lot of pressure right now because of my Peak Club origins.”
Rafael glanced sideways at the old butler, who bowed his head and wordlessly backed out, closing the door softly behind him.
Only two people remained in the office.
Rafael rises from his position and walks around the desk to Carrie, leaning against the edge of the desk, his eyes looking deep into hers, “Mouthing off and using honorifics to me, I will always be the high and mighty President in your eyes.”
“…”
Carrie looks down.
Rafael reaches out and grabs her wrist in one hand and pulls her to him, Carrie looks up at him with vibrating eyes.
“Carrie, that night, do you really think, I don’t remember anything?” Rafael said as he lowered his head to her ear, his voice low.
“…”
Carrie shuddered, her hand completely frozen, forgetting to draw it back.
“You’re more than just one of the Peak Club now, you’re the First Lady of A.”
Rafael tightened his grip on her hand and whispered hard in her ear, “Now that you understand the pressure I’m under, let me ask you, if you had to choose between me and Paige, what would you choose?”
His voice swept over her ears, shaking her eardrums.
Carrie struggled, and Rafael gritted his teeth and grabbed her harder, his fingers gripping her thin wrists fiercely, refusing to let go.
“President Rafael …,” Carrie frowned.
“Rafael.”
Rafael practically growled out through gritted teeth, staring at her defiantly, his breathing becoming unsteady.
“…”
Carrie couldn’t struggle away, could only free her other hand to hand him a folded piece of paper from her pocket.
Rafael stared at her, reaching for it and opening it.
It was a letter of divorce papers.
It had not only her signature on it, but his as well.
Rafael stared at it intently, and in a trance he remembered that it was a blank signature he had once written to Enrico, and Paige had brought it to Carrie.
“Rafael,” Carrie called his name with some difficulty as she stood in front of him, “if you can’t hold out, publish this agreement so you don’t have to take a lot of heat.”
His face went green and white as he looked at her incredulously, “Are you out of your mind? You married me for Paige and now you want to divorce me for her?”
In vain, he thought that they hadn’t spent so much time together for nothing.
Turns out, in the end, nothing had changed.
Rafael reached for her again, but this time, Carrie was a step faster and took a step straight back.
“She still has Enrico!”
Probably too much had happened in recent days for Rafael to control his tantrum.
“Someone like Sister Paige shouldn’t have only her brother-in-law around.” Carrie said word for word.
“What about me?” Rafael asked, staring at her.
What was he in her eyes?
“You’re the president, the one who owns a country.”
Carrie said, no shade and a sincere attitude as she bowed her head at him and turned to walk out the door.
Rafael stood still, squeezing the divorce papers in his hand, and said coldly, “Carrie, if you’re really so intent on pressing me to death as President, then I’ll have to make some trade-offs, and I’ll even have to apologize to you!”
Saying that, Rafael shouted, “Butler, send the message out, hold a press conference immediately!”
He shouted, but his eyes were staring straight at Carrie’s back.
She wanted to save Paige, why couldn’t she say something nice and soft with him?
Hearing this, Carrie’s steps faltered.
Then go do what you think you have to do, everyone should be true to their position, she should never be the cause of swaying his mind.
She didn’t turn around, only spoke firmly, “Even if the whole world is against Sister Paige, we at Peak Club will stand behind her and not move an inch.”
After saying that, Carrie walked out step by step.
Rafael was so angry that he slapped the divorce papers on the desk, numbing his hand with pain.
…
In the basement of the new Rose Estate, a large, ragtag group of people sat together, each with heavy faces as they watched the large TV on the wall.
On the TV, just after the footage of the parade, it began to show the news that the new Temple in Heaven building had been vandalized.
On the screen, Paige’s picture was made into a black-and-white poster with bright red paint splashed on it, shocking to the eyes.
Cynthia walks through the crowd, handing out bread to everyone, and her eyes instantly redden when she sees Temple in Heaven’s glass being smashed on TV.
“Sister Cynthia, are you crying?”
Bastion sits down next to Uncle Artie and silently glances at Cynthia.
Cynthia blinked and handed him the bread, her voice a little muffled, “That mansion was designed by my friend Mira, and we haven’t even had a chance to go in and do our business yet.”
A circle of people around her heard this and looked over at her, their gazes bleak and despondent.
“Big sister husband … Alfredo brother …,” Bastion bit his lip, and did not know what to say, finally stifled a sentence, ” Sister Cynthia, are we the ones who made Country A into what it is now?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course it’s not because of you guys.” Cynthia said in a hurry, raising her hand to stroke his head.
“Then why are we stuck here and can’t go out?” Bastion asked in disbelief, “Why does Sister Paige have to get yelled at and have her picture splashed with dog blood?”
If they were right, then what was wrong with Sister Paige, who had picked them up and taken them out?
“Sister Paige was trying to protect you guys too.” Cynthia said standing in the crowd.
Bastion was about to ask something else when he was pulled back by Uncle Artie, his eyes glazed over as he looked to Cynthia, “Ms. Cynthia, if there is too much public discontent, will little Paige be convicted?”
As soon as they heard this, everyone sat up straight and looked at her fixedly.
Cynthia shook her head somewhat stiffly, “I don’t know, THE Gustin Group consortium and the presidential palace held a conference one after another today, I don’t know what they will say.”
Saying that, fearing that they would mess up their thoughts, she hurriedly added, “You guys just stay here at ease, no matter what, Sister Paige won’t give up on you.”
“So Sister Paige will be abandoned?” Bastion asked.
Everyone looked straight at Cynthia, waiting for her answer.
“…”
Cynthia was dumbfounded, unable to answer.
…
On a large speedboat, the television was tuned and retuned, tuned and retuned, and finally the picture appeared.
On the screen, the scene of the press conference of THE Gustin Group consortium was ready, and the media on the scene was vast and packed.