CHAPTER 151: CHAPTER 151: THE SAFE’S PASSWORD IS MY BIRTHDAY

Holly didn’t know how she fell asleep.

When she woke up, it was already pitch black outside the window, and even through the glass, she could hear the howling wind.

There was a cup of warm water on the nightstand.

She glanced at the time; it was almost eight in the evening.

Her head still felt a bit groggy, especially the muscle where her waist connected to her thigh, sore and weak, as if her body had been dismantled and reassembled.

The pajamas she was wearing weren’t the original set. Did Blake Sinclair change them for her?

Just as she was lost in thought, the bedroom door was softly pushed open. Blake Sinclair came in with a tray, on which was a bowl of steaming clear soup noodles and a box of medicine.

Seeing her awake, he quickly stepped forward and placed the items on the table nearby.

He first reached out to touch her forehead and silently breathed a sigh of relief.

Holly was a bit confused.

"You had a slight fever this afternoon and slept for a long time. Now that you’ve sweated, it should have gone down. Are you hungry? Let’s have some noodles first, and then take the medicine, okay?"

He coaxed her gently.

No wonder she felt off the whole day and lacked energy.

Turns out she was sick.

She had a fever while she was asleep, and the original pajamas were drenched in sweat, so he changed them for her.

Holly looked at him and softly murmured.

Blake Sinclair saw she didn’t resist, and the tension in his heart slightly eased.

While she was sleeping earlier, the people sent to investigate had already reported back the results from yesterday’s art exhibition.

The surveillance of all public areas on the two floors of yesterday’s exhibition had been checked, and Shannon Yarrow’s behavior was completely normal. The only interaction between her and Holly was a nod at the door before Holly left.

Perhaps he was indeed overthinking.

When she returned yesterday, she was caught in the rain, and today she directly fell sick with a fever. Her unusual behavior might really be due to physical discomfort and not for any other reason, or anyone else.

He sat by the bedside and placed a soft cushion behind her waist.

Then he picked up the noodles, stirred them to cool, and handed them to her lips.

The actions were practiced and patient.

Looking at the concern in his eyes, Holly felt a momentary daze.

Perhaps it was because she had just recovered from the fever and wasn’t fully awake, she still longed for his warmth like before.

The fragrance of the noodles lingered in the air, and Holly almost instinctively thought that everything that happened these past two days was just an absurd nightmare.

But people eventually wake up.

She took two bites and then shook her head.

Blake Sinclair knew her appetite might not be good just after recovering from the fever and didn’t force her.

He fed her the medicine, then finished the remaining noodles using her used bowl and chopsticks.

Holly couldn’t help stopping him, "Don’t eat it. Aren’t you afraid I’ll infect you?"

Blake Sinclair’s hand paused for a moment. Seeing her finally willing to speak to him, a light sparked in his eyes.

He smiled, "Not afraid. If I get infected, I’ll stay home with you and go nowhere."

Blake Sinclair put down the empty bowl, tentatively asking, "Holly, shall we go on a honeymoon? The autumn scenery in Arctica is beautiful, or skiing in Alpinia isn’t bad. Wherever you want to go, we’ll go."

He was earnestly painting those beautiful futures, but Holly just quietly looked at him.

She didn’t answer, silently withdrawing her gaze, and with it, the faint softness she felt just moments ago.

Blake Sinclair felt emptiness in his heart, clearly sensing an ungraspable sense of loss, indescribable, but it had vanished.

He wanted to hold her hand, with a touch of pleading, "Holly..."

"I’m tired, I want to rest a bit more." Holly interrupted him, crawling back under the covers.

She turned her back to him, using her actions to redraw the boundary once again.

Blake Sinclair’s Adam’s apple moved slightly, and his outstretched hand gently tucked her in, "Alright, then sleep a little longer."

He quietly left the bedroom.

As soon as the door closed, his phone vibrated.

The screen lit up with an encrypted email.

He opened it, and pictures in the document loaded one by one.

[President Sinclair, this is Madam’s itinerary from the afternoon.]

The photos clearly captured Holly and Zion Pence leaving the Lovers’ Lounge one after the other, their conversation across the window at The Grandflora Gardens’ entrance, and their tugging at the elevator door...

Blake Sinclair stared at the photos, the veins on the back of his hand gripping the phone bulging.

He directly dialed a number, "Completely ban Sunfield Tech. I want it to disappear from Beldon."

After hanging up, he turned to look at the tightly closed bedroom door, obsessive and possessive shadows churning in his deep eyes.

He never thought Holly was wrong.

The one at fault had always been that incessant, persistent Zion Pence who tried to take her away from his side.

It was he who disrupted the calm between them.

Holly drifted off again, and when she woke up, she heard the sound of water from the bathroom.

This time, she was much clearer in mind.

She picked up her phone and glanced at it; it was 10:20.

Five minutes ago, there was a new unread email in her inbox with the subject "Gift."

Almost instantly, Holly recalled what Shannon Yarrow had said in the afternoon: ’If you can watch the whole show today, I’ll give you a gift.’

An ominous feeling arose.

Her hand acted before her brain and clicked on it. There were no attachments, no pictures, just one sentence:

The password to the black safe is my birthday.

Holly stared at that line of text for a long while until her eyes stung, confirming that she wasn’t dreaming.

How could Shannon Yarrow know about Blake Sinclair’s black safe?

He always kept it in the study.

Once, he mentioned that what’s inside was very important to him.

Yet, the password turned out to be Shannon Yarrow’s birthday.

She read the sentence multiple times.

It was just then Shannon Yarrow’s call came through.

"Did you see the email?" Her proud laugh came from the other end.

Holly pressed her lips and remained silent.

"Why aren’t you speaking?" Her laugh became more pronounced.

"Haven’t you always wanted to know where the Yarrow motif on his tie came from? Go and check it."

"How do you know the password?" Holly’s voice trembled slightly.

"Ha, what do you think?" She chuckled, a mix of pity and mockery, "By the way, do you want me to help you verify it? Want to make a bet?"

Holly couldn’t understand what she meant by that sentence.

But the next second, Shannon Yarrow lowered her voice, mysteriously, "Do you believe I can call him out to see me with just one phone call?"

After saying that, the call was decisively ended.

The busy tone came through, and the phone returned to the black lock screen interface.

Holly stared at the dark screen, feeling like it was a bottomless abyss, gradually sucking all the air from her body.

Blake Sinclair’s phone was charging right next to it. If she went over now to turn it off, he wouldn’t be able to receive Shannon Yarrow’s call, and her verification would fail.

But, a voice in her heart was clamoring, like a gambler eyeing the last card.

As if self-torturing, she wanted to take a gamble on who Blake Sinclair would choose between Shannon Yarrow and her.

Before long, the water in the bathroom stopped.

Blake Sinclair came in, drying his hair, the collar of his pajama loosely open. Seeing her awake and leaning against the bed, his eyes softened a bit.

"Awake?" He came over, reaching out to check her forehead, "Is your head still dizzy?"

Holly didn’t dodge, lightly shaking her head.

Blake Sinclair saw she wasn’t resisting him anymore and was about to say something when the phone charging nearby suddenly rang.

The hand Holly had placed under the blanket trembled, at that moment, her heart felt like it was suspended by a thin string at ten thousand meters high, swaying back and forth.

Blake Sinclair frowned in displeasure, going over to pick up the phone.

Holly’s peripheral vision remained fixed on him.

Upon seeing the caller ID, he furrowed his brow slightly, his fingers hesitated on the screen for a bit, and finally pulled out the charging cable, "I’ll take a call, it’s from Cole Tanner."

Holly looked into his eyes; the string suspending her heart was half-broken, with only the last bit tenuously holding on.

Still deceiving her.

Was it really Cole Tanner?

But she didn’t expose it, going along with his words, "Okay."

Blake Sinclair straightened the blanket and took his phone out to the living room balcony.

Holly couldn’t hear any sound.

Her whole body was tense, not daring to relax for a moment.

She was waiting.

Waiting for him to return and say, "It was just a small matter, let’s go to sleep."

Waiting for him to prove with actions that she hadn’t lost the bet earlier.

After a few minutes, Blake Sinclair came back, hastily.

He walked to the bed, ruffled her hair, and apologized, "Holly, there’s an urgent matter at the company. You sleep first, no need to wait for me."

The room fell silent instantly, leaving only her breathing, light and bitter.

That string, fully severed.