Chapter 9: Home Without Her

Rose Ferguson's lips curled up in satisfaction as she held Valentine Anderson wrapped around her fingers. Despite her sense of triumph, she maintained a stern posture, arms crossed just below her chest, fixing a disapproving gaze on Valentine.

"You need to make a choice, Val. If you're with me, I won't tolerate thoughts of other women. I can't share you," Rose declared firmly.

Valentine Anderson drew in a deep breath, his expression serious as he responded, "Rose, you are the only woman I will ever love. I won't entertain thoughts of anyone else."

Locking eyes with Valentine, Rose spoke with intensity, "If that's truly how you feel, then you must confront Andrea Singers. Tell her she's unattractive, overweight, and unworthy of you. Make it clear that you regret ever marrying with her."

Valentine Anderson's expression darkened as he listened to Rose Ferguson's demands. Despite agreeing to her conditions out of a sense of duty and the many sacrifices he had already made, he was not foolish enough to openly say such a thing in front of Andrea Singers.

He had already hurt Andrea enough, and he was determined not to worsen the situation. "Rose, I don't believe that would be wise. Andrea and I belong to the past; you and I are moving towards the future. Let's leave it at that," he said calmly.

Rose's eyes filled with anger. "You still love her! Leave and never come back. I never want to see you again!" With those words, she stormed back into the mansion, leaving Valentine feeling a sense of panic and regret.

As he moved to follow her, he was stopped in his tracks by the gateman, who blocked his path with a stern warning. "You are not allowed to enter," the gateman declared firmly, preventing Valentine from pursuing Rose further into the mansion.

In a fit of frustration, Valentine Anderson clutched at his hair, his mind consumed with the weight of his sacrifices: a once-wonderful marriage, his dignity, all laid on the line for the contracts and the crucial support of the Ferguson family.

With everything at stake, he knew he couldn't afford to risk losing it all. Taking a deep breath, he made a decision.

"Fine, Rose. I'll do it," Valentine bellowed.

Waiting in vain at the imposing gates of the mansion for a response that never came, he eventually retreated to his car and drove home.

Arriving at his front door, he reached out to twist the doorknob, only to find it locked. A wave of disorientation washed over him - he was accustomed to simply walking in.

Patting his pockets in a futile search, he realized his house keys lay forgotten in the car. With a resigned sigh, he trudged back to his vehicle to retrieve them, returning to the door with the means to unlock it.

After opening the door, he flicked on the light and sank into the chair, feeling exhausted. He knitted his brows in contemplation and instinctively called out, "Andrea, I'm home; are you in the kitchen?"

Silence greeted him instead of her familiar voice, making him realize that Andrea Singers was no longer his wife.

Accustomed to her warm welcome no matter the hour, he sighed in disappointment before pushing himself up from the chair.

Apart from downing two glasses of liquor, he hadn't touched a morsel of food all evening.

With a frustrated grumble, he headed to the kitchen to scrounge up a meal, only to find the refrigerator and pots bare.

After a resigned sigh, he settled for a packet of noodles and eggs.

Lost in thought, he gazed at the gas cooker, contemplating. Inexperienced in the culinary arts, he embarked on his inaugural cooking venture.

Switching on the flame, he nonchalantly added two glasses of water to the pot. Disregarding the need for boiling, he cracked open the eggs directly into the water. Hastily tearing open the noodle packets, he tossed them in, then settled on the floor against the kitchen cabinet, awaiting the noodles' readiness.

As drowsiness overcame him, he drifted into sleep, unconsciously letting out snores. Unnoticed to Valentine Anderson, a dense steam billowed from the pot as the noodles cooked on.

His slumber was interrupted by a pungent odour of burning food, jolting him awake. Wide-eyed, he leaped to his feet, only to find the pot ablaze after neglecting it for a daunting hour.

Turning off the gas, he grabbed a cloth and lifted the pot from the burner, discarding the lid. A pungent odour of burnt food and smoke overwhelmed him, causing him to cough as if he were being strangled.

Running his hand through his hair in frustration, he discovered that all the noodles in the pot had turned black from being charred.

With a rueful sigh, he exited the kitchen and retreated to the bedroom, succumbing to sleep to quell his hunger.

The following morning, he awoke early, his stomach growling with hunger, just as his phone started ringing.

Glancing at the caller ID, his expression hardened, but he reluctantly answered the call. "Val, if you've completed the task I assigned you last night, come to my office so we can finalize the contract," Rose Ferguson's voice crackled through the phone's speaker.

"Alright," Valentine Anderson replied before ending the call, yawning and stretching as he prepared to face the day.

After finishing his bath, he headed straight to grab breakfast. Before embarking on a day-long drive through the city to contemplate his next move, his phone incessantly rang with a call from Rose Ferguson, yet he deliberately ignored it.

Arriving at Mr. Singers' mansion, he parked his car by the curb and fixed his gaze intently on the imposing structure. Motionless for an hour, deep in thought, he finally stepped out of the car and strode towards the gate, where he pressed the buzzer. The gate creaked open, and the gateman emerged.

"Whom are you here to see, sir?" inquired the gateman.

"I am here to meet Andrea Singers," replied Valentine Anderson, secretly hoping for a refusal to provide him with an excuse to fail the task assigned by Rose Ferguson.

"Sir, Mrs. and Mr. Singers departed the mansion an hour ago; they are on their way to catch a flight out of the country," informed the gateman.