Forgive Me Love

Meet again

Emilia was in deep trouble. Helping Ruth was a huge mistake!

"Hey you, cleaner," the cynical voice addressed her.

Emilia could only nod in response.

The voice chuckled with amusement. "See, Ruth? Even the cleaner has better situational awareness than you! Knows her place."

He grabbed the wine bottle and placed it back on the table. "Drink it all. Otherwise, we'll have to call Martha over." Martha was the woman who had interviewed Emilia.

The mention of Martha sent shivers down Ruth's spine. Coming from a poor family, she relied on the high salary at Royal Club to support herself as a waitress. If Martha showed up, she'd be fired for sure.

"Don't call Martha!" Ruth cried, grabbing the bottle from the crystal table.

"I'll drink it!" Tears welled up in her eyes as she spoke.

"Hold on a minute," a low, unhurried voice emerged from the darkness. Emilia turned towards the dark corner, her body trembling violently upon hearing the voice.

Panic surged through her. Her breathing grew heavy, and fear crept into her eyes.

"Turn around," the voice commanded from the darkness.

Emilia felt like her legs were made of lead, refusing to move. "Please," she pleaded silently, "not me."

"I said turn around. You, the cleaner."

The voice felt like a punch to the gut. She knew she had no choice. Teeth chattering, Emilia turned around in her bulky clothes.

The atmosphere in the room had become incredibly tense. Everyone sensed something was wrong.

The cynical man pinched his fingers to his lips and whistled a happy tune. "What a show we have tonight!"

"James, shut up! Don't ruin the fun," a man on the sofa barked.

"Damn it, Alan, you're such a buzzkill," the man called James retorted.

Fear overwhelmed Emilia. Escape! That was the only thought in her mind.

Three years in prison – one thousand and ninety-five days and nights of unimaginable suffering. After experiencing that hell on earth, she never dared to dream of a future with Aston. All that remained was a deep-seated fear and dread of the man.

Even though remnants of love and obsession for him still lingered in her heart, they were buried deep, never to resurface.

"Look up," the voice ordered slowly. Emilia moved one step at a time, following his commands.

The dim light made it difficult to see. When she first entered the room, she hadn't dared to take a good look around, so it wasn't surprising that she hadn't noticed him in the dark corner.

Aston sat regally in the corner of the sofa, like an emperor. His slender arms rested on the armrests, and he held his chin on the back of one hand, exuding an air of elegance. But his gold-rimmed glasses glinted like a predator's eyes, as if he could tear her apart at any moment.

Three years had passed, yet he seemed untouched by time. In fact, he appeared even more captivating. His face, shrouded in the dim light, seemed to glow with an otherworldly beauty. But Emilia dared not steal another glance. She quickly buried her head in her heavy clothes.

Aston scoffed, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Long time no see, Emilia. Don't you have anything to say to me?"

Emilia's face was pale. "Mr. Hamilton," she forced out, trying to control the fear in her heart. She pinched her thighs, attempting to maintain a calm facade.

Aston squinted and looked at Emilia... Had it not been for seeing her at Royal Club today, he would have almost forgotten this person.

She had changed a lot. If it wasn't for the waiter who accidentally said, “Emilia'', he wouldn't recognize this woman.

The lights in the room were dim, and he could only get a general look at her. Even so, Aston had to admit that Emilia had changed so much that he hadn't expected it.

"When did you come out?" Aston asked indifferently. Emilia was anxious, with no color on her face.

Suddenly, she raised her head, and looked at the opposite man imploringly... 'Please, don't say, don't mention my imprisonment in front of so many people, please.'—These words were clearly written in those eyes! Aston raised his eyebrows.

All of a sudden, he raised his finger, pointed at the wine bottle in Ruth's hand, sneered at Emilia and curled his lips, "I know what you want to say. As long as you can drink all this bottle of wine, I will agree to your request."

Emilia looked palely at the bottle of vodka in Ruth's hand. Smirnoff vodka was one of the famous vodkas in the world, with a degree about forty degrees.

Emilia stared at the bottle of vodka. She looked pale and opened her mouth wanted to say something. The man on the sofa, like a hunter, teased with the toy under his feet.

He stared at Emilia playfully with his black eyes, “My patience is limited." Listening to the familiar voice, Emilia looked paler.

"I can't drink.” As soon as she finished, Emilia felt more freighted. She was about to be burned by that tangible gaze.

The palm of her hand, in a corner he couldn't see, clenched into a fist quietly... She looked like a death row prisoner waiting to be sentenced, waiting tormented for the final sentence.

"Mr. Hamilton, you, please forgive me." In order to live, Emilia could abandon her self-esteem and begged for mercy on the ground,

"Please, let me go, as long as you don't let me drink, I can do anything."

She wanted to live, and only if she lived could she repay her debts. Yes, she owed a lot of debts.

The creditor was definitely not Mia.

The man concealed his profile under the dim light.

With a fleeting surprise, Aston said blankly, "It's just a bottle of wine. In order to not drink it, you kneel down so easily? Emilia, where's your arrogance and dignity that you used to defend?"

Dignity? Emilia, who kept her head down, showed a hint of mockery and bitterness on her face.

What was dignity? Could dignity be eaten? Could dignity keep her alive?

She kneeled, not to escape to drink a bottle of wine, but to—live! She closed her eyes in pain.

As soon as she closed her eyes, humiliating faces appeared in front of her.

There was only one exception. But that girl, because of her, because of her, died in a dark and damp prison!

A young twenty-year-old life, at a fancy age, just withered in that dark and humid place.

It was all because of her, because of her.

This was sin, debt, which could never be repaid! She didn't owe Mia. The one she owed was the girl who stood up bravely to protect her in prison, but died in the prison for unknown reasons!

Emilia couldn't stop trembling. She seemed to see the girl lying in her arms covered in blood again, shouting 'Emilia.' As she died, she told her hometown and her dreams in the best voice that Emilia had never heard in her life.