Chapter 8
When Claire Whitmore pushed open the carved wooden doors of the Whitmore family’s old estate, a wash of warm golden
light wrapped around her instantly.
The living room was filled with the fragrant steam of her favorite dessert–snow fungus and lotus seed soup. Her mother, dressed in soft loungewear, rushed forward with reddened eyes and pulled her into a tight embrace.
Claire, my precious girl, you’re finally home!“\
Her father stood to the side, the man who was a commanding, decisive force in the business world now speaking with a barely concealed tremor in his voice. He placed a reassuring hand on her back.”
“It’s good you’re back. From now on, no one will ever hurt you again.”
The dining table was laden with all her favorite dishes, specially prepared by the chef at her parents‘ request. Claire’s vision blurred for a moment–after all the humiliation she had endured in the Reed household, the warmth of this home was the release she had longed for.”
“Claire.”
A gentle voice came from the doorway. Ethan Cole stood there in a crisp white shirt, holding an elegant gift box. Behind him trailed a line of household staff and bodyguards, each carrying a box.
“Welcome home.“[
He had been her childhood friend, always quietly watching over her–following her through school, trailing after her on graduation trips, supporting her in every way like the most steadfast of family members, showering her with countless acts of care and warmth.”
It wasn’t until Claire had resolutely married Daniel Reed that he buried himself in work, driving himself to become a tireless machine.<
One by one, the ninety–nine gift boxes were opened, each revealing a carefully chosen present: the candy she had loved as a child, a brooch she once casually mentioned was beautiful, a jar filled with paper stars he had folded himself, a signature scent from a century–old perfume house, the latest work from her favorite artist…
Ethan scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed. “I heard you were coming back, so I put these together last minute. I hope you like them.””
Claire’s nose stung as she looked over the heartfelt gifts.”
She couldn’t help but remember three years ago, when she had thrown herself into what she thought was love, ignoring her parents‘ disapproval.
Back then, Daniel was nothing more than a penniless dreamer, but she had been moved by his “sincerity” in starting a business. She’d lied to her family, claiming her father owned a small convenience store, and willingly squeezed into a shabby rental with him, living on instant noodles. She had even secretly used her savings to help him cover his company’s expenses, staying up late to check project data. Looking back now, her lovesick naïveté felt painfully absurd.
“Silly child, the past is in the past,” her mother said softly, taking her hand and gently caressing her cheek. “These past years have been too hard on you. Your father and I will never let you leave our side again.“>
Her father’s voice was deep and firm. “Next week, you’ll report to Whitmore Group headquarters. You’ll start as an assistant to the project director and learn the business. I’m getting older, and one day this entire empire will be yours to run,”
Claire blinked in surprise, then nodded. She understood–this was her parents giving her the backing and strength to start
anew.
Meanwhile, across town, Daniel Reed was slouched in the empty shell of their former home, irritably scrolling through his phone. Suddenly, a breaking business headline popped up, its title glaring in bold:
“Whitmore Group Announces: Sole Daughter Claire Whitmore Officially Returns to Take Part in Core Business Operations; Press Conference Scheduled in One Month.”
