Her REV LOVE

CHAPTER 7

I was stunned.

There was the woman on stage who looked like my late wife.

Her face, her shape, her voice—there was a striking similarity between the two women.

I scowled as I listened to Lydia Josephs give her speech.

"Ruth, is that you?" I asked myself, a look of confusion on my face.

Lydia Josephs finished speaking and stepped down from the podium. The MC then told her that she would have to share the dance floor with her partner, Dean Anderson, a new mysterious young man who appeared to be a debonair new face in Charles State. He was tall and lean and had sandy brown hair and brown eyes.

The guy, in a three-piece gray suit, grinned at Lydia and walked up to her. In front of everyone, he took Lydia's hand and asked, "May I have this dance, Lydia?"

Lydia smiled and took his hand. They stepped onto the dance floor and moved to the beat.

Dean glanced at Lydia as they danced. He grinned and said, "Congratulations, boss lady."

Lydia grinned and said, "Thank you, Dean."

"I'm the happiest man in the room now, and I bet the men who are looking on are jealous of me," Dean explained, staring into Lydia's eyes.

"Oh Dean, you'll always be so flirtatious," Lydia pleasantly said.

"As the youngest female MD of Charles State and the mysterious daughter of the Josephs clan, it's all enough to make all the men go crazy about you," Dean continued.

"Dean, you're on stage as well. You're the mysterious new MD who's just moved to Charles State. Honestly, I've known you for so many years now, and you're still as mysterious," Lydia teased her friend. My teeth were locked into a scowl of frustration.

Witnessing the woman who so closely resembled Ruth dance so intimately with another man kindled an unidentifiable spark of jealousy in my heart.

I knew that she would not be my wife. So why was I so angry and disturbed noticing this unfamiliar woman with another guy?

My eyes constricted and I felt as if someone was squeezing my heart. I could only try to stop myself from walking out onto that dance floor and tearing them apart. From the corner of my eye, Dera happened to catch a glimpse at my face when I gazed at Lydia Josephs.

She clenched her fists into tight balls as bitterness crept into the corners of her heart. "Do you still carry that b***h in your heart?" she asked herself.

Eight years had passed and I still hadn't married her. Was it perhaps because I couldn't let go of Ruth?

Dera glared at Lydia Josephs with ill will in her heart. No one was going to steal me from her! I belonged to her and her alone!

"Frank. Do you actually think she resembles Ruth?" Dera surprised me by telling me to hear her. "I've thought of her every waking moment of all those eight years and blamed myself the entire time. If not for you rescuing me, Ruth would have been killed. But how can Lydia Josephs be Ruth? She's not that one. How can she be from a wealthy family?"

I came to my senses when I heard that. Of course, Ruth was an orphan and had no relatives. There was no chance she was Jack Josephs' daughter.

I glanced at the woman dancing on the dance floor and saw how she danced gracefully. Ruth could not dance and she did not enjoy attending such gatherings.

"Right. There's no chance that she's Ruth. I saw her body myself," I told myself.

"Yes. Ruth is dead," I grumbled, but I sounded as though I was trying to convince myself.

But I could not shake the tightening in my chest. I felt like I was something short.

Within a few minutes, Lydia had just greeted and been introduced to most of the older guests. Dean departed Lydia alone after offering an apology for leaving to answer a call.

Noticing that she was by herself, I got up from beside Dera to greet her.

"Good evening, Miss Josephs," I replied softly with a velvety voice.

Lydia swiveled around to catch sight of me since she heard the sound of the man's voice. My heart skipped a beat as eyes met.

Those hazel eyes.

Up close, she was more Ruth Bennett-like. Wasn't she her?

"Good evening," Lydia's soft voice came to my ears.

She was being courteous, but I could sense there was no recognition in her response to me.

I raised an eyebrow. I smiled and said to her, "I've wanted to get a chance to talk to you. I'd like to make an offer of partnership—

"Neither is it the time nor the place, Sir. First of all, shouldn't you introduce yourself? You can't skip introducing yourself to talk business," Lydia said.

My heart fell like a stone as reality hit me. This lady was not my wife. My wife would have recognized me.

How could someone resemble a dead individual so much? Even their eyes were the same.

"Sir?" I shouted, my face twisted in confusion.

"I'm Frank Lanka, Managing Director of the Lanka CULT," I stated, though bitter on my tongue.

Why was it so inappropriate to be strangers with the lady before me?

"Alright, Mr. Lanka. You can have your assistant deal with whatever business-related things," Lydia said. She smiled and went on, "Excuse me."

"Hold on." I couldn't help but hold her back.

I looked into Lydia's eyes and I had this feeling of an unspeakable emotion coursing through me at the moment. Although I was aware that the woman standing in front of me was not Ruth, it was great to look into the face of a woman who bore some resemblance to her.

It had been eight years since my wife passed away and yet, I couldn't help but think of her.

"Mr. Lanka, what's that? And why do you stare at me like you do?" Lydia replied, not even a wisp of emotion on her face.

Racing heart. I swallowed the suddenly formed lump in my throat and then said, "Lydia Josephs, you're so familiar. Are you Ruth?"