Taken By My Fiancé's Uncle - Chapter 128: Chapter 128

At the palatial stone manor, Eugene sat quietly for a while. He faintly heard the clicking of high heels outside in the yard. "Is she gone?" Queenie came in and found him in the bathroom.
Eugene didn't look up. Slowly, he stood and grabbed a mop from the corner. He started mopping the floor with slow, steady strokes. Queenie grabbed the mop handle. "Aren't you going back to the Moore manor?"
"No need." His voice was flat, calm. He bent over and kept cleaning.
Queenie tried to take the mop from him, but he dodged. She was surprised. "You're gonna live here? And clean by yourself?"
They were all children of the Moore family, raised from a young age with social etiquette and strategic thinking. Doing chores like this had never been part of their world.
"Why not?" Eugene finally looked up and gave her a faint, cold glance. Queenie stood by the door, noticing a slight redness in his eyes. She was speechless for a moment.
After thinking it over, she said, "I heard from Lorenzo that she wants to intern somewhere remote. Far away. If you want, we can send people to watch over her."
Since Eugene had made up his mind, she didn't push. Offering some care might help him move on from Lorraine faster. She knew how guilt can keep a man thinking about one woman.
Eugene was quiet, stunned by what she said. Slowly, he walked to the balcony and rinsed the mop in the basin. His voice stayed calm. "No one is needed."
Whatever she needed, he'd give it himself. No one else should give her anything, not even those close to him.
Queenie thought he had let go. She breathed a sigh of relief. "So if Norah comes by..."
"Your friend! Whenever she wants to come, that's your call." Eugene grabbed the mop again and pushed hard on the floor. He didn't want to stop, not even for a second.
Queenie held back her feelings. She looked at him helplessly but kept her cool. "Finish up soon, and come back quickly. Mom and I are waiting for you."
Eugene looked up, gripped the mop handle, and stood up straight. He gave her a serious look and said, "You're in my way. I can't finish mopping."
The floor was dusty. When Lorraine came back, she didn't like wearing shoes. She walked barefoot. It would be bad if she stepped on something dirty. He paused, took a deep breath, and told himself to stop thinking about it. But he couldn't.
Queenie said nothing. Eugene finished mopping, then calmly walked over to the corner of the yard, opened the cage, and took out Coconut. He brushed Coconut's fur and bathed him.
He had never done it before, but after watching Lorraine do it every day, he'd gotten pretty good at it.
Queenie was surprised. "Eugene, don't you have allergies to fur? You really shouldn't be keeping that thing." She reached out to grab Coconut.
Eugene turned away from her hand and said calmly, "You just focus on resting. I know what I need to do."
Queenie was shocked. She hadn't even asked yet, but he had already answered. He said what she wanted to hear, but she felt the confident, bright Eugene she knew was slowly slipping away.
Summer flew by before anyone was ready for it to end. One cool evening, Lorraine stood alone in front of a tiny clinic way out in a remote place.
The view was lovely, with clear water all around. The clinic sat in a small mud hut. When she opened the door, dust burst out. Inside, there was just a thin table and a worn-out bed. Medicine was always in short supply and never guaranteed.
But she got used to it and made herself comfortable. The people out there were simple and kind, their faces unlike anyone she'd seen in the city. She got along well with the clinic's only doctor and nurse.
The only problem was that there was no cell signal. The only chance she could call out was when she went to the town market on the first and fifteenth of each month.
She always called Sheila, never anyone else. After a bit of small talk, no matter how hard she tried to hold back, she would always end up asking softly, "Is he doing okay?"
Sheila knew who she meant. Every time Lorraine asked, Sheila would scoff, "He's doing great! You should worry about yourself, dummy!"
He showed up every day in the finance section and was about to marry a powerful figure's daughter in Jonalesburg. Of course, he was doing well, better than ever.
Lorraine held the phone quietly for a long time. She tried to hold onto Sheila's "doing great" and automatically ignored the "dummy" at the end.
Shirin was there, waiting for the call. She grabbed the phone from Sheila impatiently. "Lorraine, you okay? Are the mosquitoes bothering you? Did you get the menthol ointment I sent? Don't worry, Coconut's being well care of. I went to see him. Mr. Moore—"
Suddenly, there was a sharp "smack" sound like someone got hit. Shirin covered her hand and stepped back. "Ouch! Why didn't you let me finish?"
Sheila raised an eyebrow and took back the phone. "What's there to say? Lorraine, stay safe. Not a single hair out of place. When your internship's done, I'll come get you."
Lorraine said, "Okay," then asked, "Did you get the local stuff I sent?"
"Yeah, but Shirin ate it all. And what's a handmade men's scarf supposed to be? I threw it out." Sheila snorted coldly.
Lorraine looked down, her long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks. They talked a bit more and then hung up.
She left town and trudged toward the clinic. Autumn had come, and the afternoon air was colder. She pulled out a pair of gloves and slowly put them on.
The gray wool gloves were unevenly stitched. She'd learned to knit them from some women patients during her free time.
One ball of yarn made a scarf and a pair of gloves. She had just finished them. The gloves were with her now. The scarf was far away.
Maybe it would never reach the person she wanted to give it to. But just making it had already made her feel good.
The clinic was a place where time seemed to slow down. She could say whatever was on her mind because there were people who listened and people who respected her. They trusted her completely. Slowly, that trust helped her regain some of her confidence.
But after all the talking, the one question that stayed buried in her heart remained the same—Eugene, are you truly doing okay?
In Auretian, at the Moore Group, the entire building had been stuck in a gloomy mood for nearly two full months.
About two months ago, one night, the President's assistant suddenly called everyone in for overtime. So all the employees, who were half-dreaming, had to come back overnight.
Eugene showed up wearing pajamas and carrying a little rabbit. Everyone saw him. At first, people thought his act like this was just a one-time thing. But it quickly became normal.
It was like he had moved into his office for good. When the boss worked this hard, the rest of the staff had no choice but to suffer. They worked nearly 24 hours without a break.
Isaac rushed to grab some documents from the bank and hurried back. Just as he got to the front door of Moore Group, a car splashed dirty water all over him.
He was soaked and miserable. He gave the car a dirty look but couldn't see who was driving. Then Eugene called him on the phone. "I told you to get the documents, not to make paper."
Isaac hurried upstairs. "Sorry, Mr. Moore." The call ended with a click. Isaac held the brown paper bag tightly. He stared at the elevator numbers and silently prayed this endless grind would be over soon.
What he didn't know was that inside the car that just drove by, people were talking about him. "Was that Eugene's assistant? Briana?"
Norah was dressed like a princess in a white tulle dress and a pink puff-sleeve jacket. Her long hair flowed smoothly down her back. She held a soft, plush pillow and asked impatiently.
"Yes, Ms. Pedler," said a middle-aged maid in front.
"He's not as good-looking as Eugene. He doesn't have his charm. And he's not as straight-laced as Eugene."
"Speaking of straight-laced, Ms. Pedler, you should sit up straight instead of slouching like that."
"Okay." Norah reluctantly sat up, doing as she was told. After all, the maid was not just any servant. She was the nanny who raised her.
Norah's parents rarely spent time with her, so in some ways, Briana was closer to her than her folks, and she was someone she could count on.
"Behave yourself," Briana said with a smile. She fixed her white jacket, neatened her hair bun, and sat upright, calm and proper.
She was almost 50 but still took good care of herself. She had worked for the Pedler family for many years and lived a comfortable life. One could definitely say she was elegant.
"Why did we come all this way and still can't see Eugene?" Norah grumbled a little.
Briana smiled, "Ms. Pedler, you came here all tired and dusty to see him. Don't you want to look your best?
"We should find somewhere to settle in and freshen up your skin first. As for Eugene, he should be the one coming to see us, not the other way around."
"Does that really matter?" Norah rolled her eyes. "I heard Lorraine already left him a long time ago."
"There's a big difference," Briana smiled knowingly. "Let's just wait. He will come."
"Why are you so sure?"
"Because he just can't wait any longer."