the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart Chapter 1141: Since You Wish to Repay Us, Why Not Marry Into

Over the past two years, Leah and Delphine often kept in touch, but both consciously avoided topics concerning the Shaw Family and the South Sea.

Leah also never ntioned anything about Delphine in front of Richard Shaw, to prevent it from reaching Ignatius Leclair’s ears.

Back then, she knew this man was indifferent, and eventually Griffith Squire had an accident. This man ended up wounding Delphine thoroughly. Over these years, she stayed in Switzerland, and Delphine lived with Nicholas in a small town in Southern France, far away from the South Sea. Life finally grew sowhat stable. It’s just that she probably knew Delphine couldn’t let go of another child. Going to the Imperial City should be because she heard that the child has been fostered in the Howard Family in the Imperial City.

"Delphine, if you return to the Imperial City, let know in advance, I’ll go back once too."

"Alright," Delphine replied with a smile.

The two exchanged a few more words, then hung up the phone.

"Leah." A man sat in a wheelchair, coming out from the room, his tea-colored eyes deep as the ocean, calling out to the daydreaming Leah in a low tone, saying, "What do you want to eat tonight?"

Leah snapped back to reality, looking at the distant setting sun, swiftly responded, and entered the house.

Richard Shaw reached out to grasp her hand, drawing her into his arms, giving her a deep kiss, murmuring, "Do you want to have Chinese food or Western food tonight?"

Leah was kissed, her face flushed slightly, muttering, "Both are fine."

She didn’t know when it started, but the man increasingly took advantage, from initial care and concerns to holding hands and kissing, like slowly boiling a frog in warm water. By the ti she realized, their relationship had beco quite intimate.

"This year for the New Year, we’ll go to the Imperial City for a while, hmm?" The man held her slender waist tightly, spoke in a low, tempting voice, "Casimir has always missed you."

Leah recalled the man’s nurous ntions before, about bringing her back to the Shaw household in the Imperial City, and she hadn’t seen Casimir Shaw for a long ti. Absentmindedly, she nodded.

Oh well, she’ll make a trip back to the Imperial City, having searched for Griffith Squire for three years, she can afford not to hurry.

Florence, Italy

In a European-style vintage cottage, a butler in his fifties hurried through the living room to the small garden, watching the slender girl sitting in front of the easel, waiting quietly by her side. Once she finished touching up the early drawing of wilderness scenery and put down the brush, he stepped forward, smiling, "Miss, the man you rescued in the Vatican two years ago has awakened and wishes to et you."

The girl turned her head, revealing a face of elegant beauty, surprisingly gestured and asked, "Awake?"

"Yes, it seems he has recovered quite well. Everyone thought he was dood back then. Unexpectedly, after lying for years, he actually woke up." The butler was astonished too. Originally, Miss helped him because he was an Easterner. For over two years, he remained like a vegetative state, cared for in the sanatorium. But recently, a nurse reported signs of awakening. Not long after, he truly woke up.

Aurora Coldwell nodded, continued gesturing and said, "Once he recovers, send him back to his holand. If he is willing, settle the dical fees for his treatnt over these years; if not, forget about it."

After Aurora spoke, she went inside the house.

Seeing this, the butler sighed softly. Ever since Miss lost her ability to speak and was exiled to Florence, apart from painting, she had no other hobbies. Being reclusive for years, she finally saved an outsider, yet she still refused to engage with the outside world.

Shaking his head, the butler then drove to the sanatorium.

Upon arrival at the sanatorium, the nurse on duty led him into the hospital room; the butler found the bed empty, hesitated for a mont, and asked, "Where is that gentleman?"

"The gentleman woke up early and was in the room just now," the nurse puzzledly replied.

As they spoke, a handso, rakish man erged from the bathroom, still wearing the sanatorium’s white hospital gown. His face was thin, and he had peach blossom eyes, narrowed slightly into a half-smile, his voice a bit husky, "Was it you who saved , sir? I woke up this morning realizing I’d been lying here for years, my beard longer than my hair."

Griffith Squire had just shaved. For over two years, he lay on a hospital bed, kept alive by nutritional fluids, his face extrely lean, even his muscles sowhat atrophied. After a set of exercises this morning, he restored a bit of his strength.

The butler occasionally ca to pay the sanatorium fees over the past two years, checking on this ill-fated man. He initially thought he was an aged middle-aged man since when he was rescued, nearly his entire body was injured, his appearance indistinguishable. Later, as external injuries healed and with a fully shaved face, it beca clear this man had an extraordinarily handso appearance with a hint of mischief.

"Sir, I think you are mistaken; it was our Miss who saved you. Miss said, once you recover, we’d send you back." The butler had seen quite a lot of life and noticed this man, who survived an overdose of toxins and was on the brink of death but didn’t die, recently woke up and could now walk; he wasn’t an ordinary person. He spoke with so scrutiny.

Griffith Squire found the butler indeed seed like one from a wealthy family, slightly frowned. Upon waking, he learned he’d been lying there for over two years. After reviewing his dical history, he understood that he had been injected with high-purity toxins and suffered gunshot wounds along with multiple external injuries. The gunshot and external injuries healed substantially, but the toxins damaged his brain, causing temporary amnesia.

Limited in what he rembers now, he recalled the faces and nas of enemies and rembered having a sister, even rembered coming from the Golden Triangle, but everything else was quite vague. Yet, with the few clues, he could quickly trace his background.

"Thank you for saving my life. I currently rember limited things. I might have to trouble you for a while longer," Griffith Squire slightly smiled, "The doctor said for full mory recovery, the toxins must be entirely cleared from my body. It might take about half a year."

"You saved my life, how might I repay you?" The man controlled his aura, showing a harmless, gentle smile.

The butler recalled what Miss said; he originally intended to suggest just settling the dical expenses. However, reflecting on Miss having been exiled to Italy, pursued persistently, trying to manipulate her marriage and monopolize the lady’s inheritance, looking again at this handso, mischievous young man, in a mont of heated impulse, said, "If you wish to repay, why not join the Coldwell Family, helping our Miss avoid a crisis. Rest assured, entering the family is rely for show. We can sign an agreent, pay you handsoly, and you just need to pretend to be husband and wife with Miss for a few years. Later, marital freedom, and no interference."