I Stole My Father's Mistress

Chapter 12: This Time, I Lose

It was raining in Savannah.

When I arrived, it was already evening.

The flower shop was on a quiet old street.

A string of wind chimes hung at the door.

When the wind blew, they rang softly.

I stood across the street and saw Evelyn wrapping flowers for a customer.

She wore an ivory sweater. Her sleeves were rolled to her forearms. She lowered her head as she trimmed the stems carefully.

The customer was a young woman.

She said something, and Evelyn laughed.

Not the perfect smile she used at Sterling Group.

A real smile.

Suddenly, I did not dare to go over.

I remembered the first time I saw her.

She stood in my father’s office and called me Miss Sterling.

I remembered the rainy night when she dried my hair.

I remembered her saying transactions did not make her sad, but I was different.

I had come here to find her.

But standing there, I realized what I feared most.

That she was doing well.

Not because I was jealous.

But if she was doing well, it meant I had no right to pull her back into my world.

I stood across the street for a long time.

Until the rain became heavier.

Evelyn saw the customer off and turned to close the shop.

The wind chimes rang.

She looked up.

She saw me.

We stared at each other across the narrow street.

Rain blurred her expression.

I did not know how long passed.

Finally, she took an umbrella and walked out.

She stopped in front of me.

The umbrella blocked the rain above us.

She looked at me.

Her voice was still soft.

“Miss Sterling.”

That title almost made my eyes turn red.

“Don’t call me that.”

She smiled faintly.

“I’m used to it.”

I looked down at her hand around the umbrella handle.

Her fingers were still pale and slender.

There were tiny scratches from flower thorns.

I wanted to hold her hand.

I did not dare.

She asked, “Are you here in Savannah for business?”

I shook my head.

“I came to find you.”

She was silent

“For what?”

My throat tightened.

Before coming, I had prepared many words.

I’m sorry.

I regret it.

What I said that day was a lie.

I like you.

Every sentence had rolled around my mouth.

But when I really saw her, I could not say any of them.

They were too light.

Too light to match the heart I had stepped on.

In the end, I only took the pearl earring from my pocket.

“I came to return this.”

She looked at it.

She did not take it.

“I said it was a souvenir for you.”

“I don’t want a souvenir.”

She raised her eyes.

I looked at her.

My voice was hoarse.

“Evelyn, I don’t want only a souvenir.”

Her hand tightened around the umbrella handle.

“Chloe Sterling.”

She rarely called me that.

Whenever she stopped calling me Miss Sterling, she became painfully serious.

“Do you know what you are saying?”

“Yes.”

“You should also know I’m not a good person.”

“I know.”

“I followed your father. I wanted the Sterling family’s money. I thought about using you.”

“I know.”

“I’m not clean. I’m not worth liking.”

My eyes finally turned red.

“What about me?”

She froze.

“Am I clean?”

“I used you. I lied to you. I knew you might fall for me, and I still forced you into the trap.”

“You asked me whether there was even one second when I truly liked you.”

“And I said no.”

“Evelyn, I was worse than you.”

The rain was loud.

She looked at me.

Her eyes softened little by little.

Then she quickly restrained herself.

“So?”

I took a deep breath.

“So I’m not here to forgive you.”

“And I’m not here to ask you to forgive me.”

“I’m here to tell you that what I said that day was a lie.”

Her lashes trembled.

“I did like you.”

“For many seconds.”

“When you bought me medicine.”

“When you kissed me on the hotel terrace.”

“When you said transactions didn’t make you sad, but I was different.”

“When you left the Sterling estate and asked me whether that was what I wanted.”

My voice grew lower.

“Evelyn, I lied to you.”

“And I lied to myself.”

She was silent for a long time.

Long enough that I thought she would turn and leave.

But she only asked softly, “What do you want now?”

I looked at her.

“I want to know you again.”

She laughed.

There was sarcasm in that laugh.

And sadness too.

“Chloe Sterling, do you think love is a company project? If it fails, you review it. If it goes wrong, you restart?”

“I know it isn’t.”

“Then why do you think I’ll still believe you?”

I could not speak.

She was right.

I had no reason.

I lowered my head and placed the earring in her palm.

“You don’t have to believe me.”

“You don’t have to accept me.”

“I only owed you the truth.”

I turned to leave.

After one step, Evelyn suddenly called me.

“Chloe Sterling.”

I looked back.

She stood under the umbrella.

Her eyes were obviously red.

She asked, “This time, are you acting again?”

The question was light.

But it hurt more than any curse.

I shook my head.

“No.”

She looked at me for a long time.

Then she walked one step closer and tilted the umbrella toward me.

“I don’t believe you.”

My heart sank.

She continued, “At least not now.”

I nodded.

“Okay.”

“But the flower shop needs someone to do odd jobs.”

I froze.

She looked away, her voice calm.

“The pay is low. The work is tiring. You have to wake up early.”

My eyes burned.

Still, I could not help smiling.

“Does it include meals?”

She glanced at me.

“Depends on performance.”

“Does it include accommodation?”

Her ears turned red.

“Chloe Sterling.”

I immediately behaved.

“I can sleep on the floor.”

She finally smiled.

Very lightly.

But it was real.

The rain kept falling.

I stood on an old street in Savannah and looked at the woman holding an umbrella in front of me.

Many years ago, my mother told me a person could love many people in life, but she must learn to love herself first.

It took me a long time to understand that.

It took me even longer to understand that love was not pulling someone out of the mud.

It was not washing away someone’s past.

Love was knowing she was not perfect.

Knowing I was not innocent either.

And still wanting to come closer without hurting anyone again.

Evelyn Hart had once been my father’s mistress.

The person I hated most.

The person I used as a weapon.

The person whose heart I cheated.

She had been greedy.

Calculating.

Realistic.

But in the end, when she could have exposed me, she did not.

She said it was because I wanted to win.

So she let me win.

For a long time afterward, I worked in that flower shop.

I learned how to cut rose thorns.

How to tell lisianthus from double tulips.

How to water the plants at the door every morning.

Evelyn still did not fully trust me.

When I got close, she would remind me, “Miss Sterling, don’t act too well.”

I would say, “Boss, can I get a two-dollar raise today?”

She would answer coldly, “Twenty dollars deducted.”

Then at night, after closing the shop, she would cook me a bowl of hot porridge.

Once, I asked her, “Evelyn, do you regret it?”

She was trimming a bouquet of white roses.

“Regret what?”

“Regret liking me.”

She looked at me for a long time.

Then she said, “Yes.”

My heart emptied.

But she lowered her head and continued trimming the flowers.

“Still, a rotten person rarely gives her heart. I have to accept the loss.”

I walked over and hugged her gently from behind.

Her body stiffened.

But she did not push me away.

Outside the window, rain fell softly over Savannah.

The wind chimes rang.

I pressed my face to her shoulder and whispered, “Then this time, I’ll be the one who loses.”

She said nothing.

After a long time, she held my hand.

Our story did not end there.

My father and mother’s divorce case lasted almost a year.

Adrian officially took over Sterling Group.

I received the shares that belonged to my mother and me.

Ryan went abroad and later messaged me that he had finally gotten together with the person he loved.

Lucas still posted photos of parties and beautiful women, but he never again claimed there was no woman he could not win.

As for Evelyn—

She still loved money.

She kept the flower shop accounts more carefully than anyone.

If I charged five dollars less for a bouquet, she could lecture me all day.

She still was not exactly a good person.

When unreasonable customers came in, the sweeter she smiled, the harder she made them pay.

But she never returned to the Sterling family.

She never again stood beside anyone as a beautiful accessory.

One night, while organizing old things, I found the note she had left me years ago.

**Miss Sterling, don’t look for someone like me again.**

**When a rotten person gives her heart, it looks worse than when a good person lies.**

I showed it to her.

After reading it, her ears turned red.

She reached out to snatch it.

I dodged and smiled.

“Evelyn, were you very in love with me back then?”

She looked at me coldly.

“No.”

“Not even for one second?”

She was silent.

I copied her old tone and deliberately asked, “No?”

She laughed in anger and turned to leave.

I chased her and hugged her from behind.

“Don’t be angry.”

She ignored me.

I rested my chin on her shoulder.

“Evelyn.”

“What?”

“I love you very much now.”

She became quiet.

After a long time, she said softly, “Chloe Sterling.”

“I have made many losing deals in my life.”

“But you…”

I grew nervous.

She turned her head to look at me.

There was a faint smile in her eyes.

“You barely broke even.”

I smiled too.

Outside, the night was gentle.

The wind chimes rang softly.

I knew we were not the good people in traditional stories.

She had once taken the wrong road for money.

I had once lied with sincerity just to win.

Both of us carried stains that could never be washed away.

But in life, there is always one moment when a person has to walk out of the rotten game they created with their own hands.

Evelyn was once my father’s mistress.

Then she became my trap.

Later, she became the person I loved.

And I finally understood.

A rotten person’s sincerity does not erase the past.

It only means that after all the wrongs, she is still willing to learn how to become better.

For someone.

She was.

So was I.