Chapter 3 Only If You Promise Me One Thing

Florrie gripped the edge of the bed sheet until her fingers went numb, a sudden chill crawling through them.

Back in college, she had trained in surgical medicine, where her professors often told her she had the talent to become one of the best in the world.

Instead of chasing that future, she chose to remain in Alexander's company, taking on the role of deputy director and setting aside her career for his sake.

Every bit of it had been for the heart beating inside his chest.

The Greenhill Village redevelopment had been her pride and her burden.

She had carried the project from its earliest sketches to the near-finished stage, surviving endless sleepless nights to hold it together.

There had been villagers who cursed her and even attacked her, leaving her one step away from being hospitalized. Still, she had pressed on—even while lying in a hospital bed with a high fever, she typed proposals through the night because Alexander's grip on the CEO position was slipping, and he needed this victory to steady his name.

Florrie had poured everything into the Greenhill Village project, believing it would be her greatest offering to him. She never imagined Alexander would give it away so carelessly, showing not the slightest trace of appreciation for her efforts.

When her silence stretched on, Alexander let out a mocking laugh. "You've always put up with everything, haven't you? You didn't even complain when I skipped our wedding day. So over one project, you're not seriously planning to refuse, are you?"

Florrie lifted her eyes to his. "I won't refuse, but I'll agree only if you promise me one thing."

Alexander's jaw tightened at her response.

Did she mean to make some ridiculous demand?

His voice turned sharp, though calm. "What do you want? Money, property, shares, a house? Whatever's within reach, I'll give it. But don't ask for anything else."

Her gaze dropped, and a bitter smile touched her lips.

Alexander had never been generous. During their entire marriage, apart from the rare pieces of jewelry meant to keep up appearances, he had never given her anything of real value.

And now, for Suzanne's sake, Alexander was ready to give up so much, even allowing Florrie the freedom to name her terms.

Once, that would have shattered her. But somewhere along the way, she had stopped expecting anything from him. Maybe she had grown used to disappointment. Maybe she had just gone numb.

Her lips curved faintly as her eyes lingered on his collarbone. "I want the talisman you've kept on you these past three years. Will you give it to me?"

That talisman had once belonged to Alexis.

If she was going to walk away, then taking it back felt like the only right thing to do.

Alexander froze at her request, then his brow tightened in confusion.

The pendant wasn't worth much. It was carved from ordinary stone, something his grandmother had pressed into his hands after his surgery years ago. The only marking on it was a simple engraving of the name "Alex."

His gaze lifted to hers as he asked, almost without thinking, "Why would you want that?"

Florrie laced her fingers together, her tone even. "It's nothing important. You've worn it for so long, I just thought… it could be a keepsake."

Alexander studied her a moment longer, unsettled but unconcerned.

Florrie had always been the type to treasure scraps of affection, holding on to anything he let her have.

Asking for something that had been so close to him seemed natural.

"I'll hand it over after you finish the project transfer at the company. Once Suzanne is settled, it's yours."

Straightening his tie, as though the deal had already been made, Alexander added, "Our wedding anniversary is coming up soon, isn't it? Tell me what you'd like this year."

Her smile barely lifted. "Don't bother. I'll think of something later."

Alexander sensed that something about her behavior was unusual, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

Florrie had once cared about every little gesture. She used to light up the moment he mentioned giving her anything. Now she sounded as if none of it mattered.