Sweet Wife So Charming: CEO: Hold Back Your Heart-Chapter 402: Resolve

"Oh my god, engagement? What a surprise attack, so soon? Just a few days and it’s already moving from a passionate romance to marriage."

"What, what? Engagement, where, where?"

After indulging for half a day in photos of the two embracing, others finally pointed out the main event.

"Feeling shut in, really."

"+1."

"I’m begging you guys, can you stop flaunting it? I’m still single, I want to live."

"Engagement, huh? When’s the wedding? I really want to go, ahhh."

"I want to go too. Will there be a live broadcast?"

"Definitely, isn’t that what a union is about?"

Various major media personalities quickly re-shared it, some even listed previous appearances of the couple together. The entertainment and business circles sent their blessings as usual.

By evening, the official blog uploaded news of when the engagement ceremony would be held, saying that wedding dress fitting photos would be released in a couple of days. Below was a bunch of lemony sour-grape citizens and skeptics mocking the union.

After the announcement, the Sinclair and Rhodes families began preparing for the engagement ceremony. After some discussion, the couple decided to hold it locally before going abroad later, as the purpose this time isn’t the wedding.

"All chosen." Zayne Sinclair wrapped his arm around Fiona Rhodes’ shoulder, looking at the wedding dress album in her hand.

Fiona Rhodes bit her tongue, glanced at the designer opposite, smiled slightly, ignored Zayne’s words, and continued, "I’ll send you the design I have in mind later."

The designer maintained a smile, suppressed the excitement within, nodded, and left with the album.

"You’re going to design it yourself?" Zayne watched the woman get up and leave, following her out.

Fiona nodded, heading to the second-floor wardrobe room, picking out clothes for the two’s fitting photoshoot.

"What about mine?" Zayne asked somewhat pathetically.

Fiona inwardly scoffed, holding a strapless wedding dress, turned to the man behind her and said, "The younger Mr. Sinclair has plenty of money, figure it out yourself." Without waiting for a reaction, she stepped into the fitting room.

Zayne was a step behind, missing the chance to follow and settle accounts.

He shook his head, laughed helplessly, and went downstairs to find the designer.

Wearing the selected clothes, the makeup artist applied Fiona’s makeup, while Zayne also changed into the suit brought by the secretary, sitting aside for his makeup.

Fiona looked at the two of them in the mirror, feeling a bit nostalgic and a little sour. Seeing the man chuckle lightly at her, the gloomy mood instantly evaporated.

"Alright, move closer," the photographer said.

Since their engagement announcement, Zayne had frequently used it as an excuse to get close to Fiona, now emboldened by the photographer’s command.

"Can you not be so close to me?" A blush stealthily crept up Fiona’s cheeks, adding color to her original makeup.

Zayne’s eyes carried a teasing light as he moved closer, their noses almost touching, about to say something when the photographer excitedly commented, "Great, keep it up."

Fiona pouted slightly, annoyed, glaring at the smug man.

Suddenly, a cool touch brushed her lips.

Audible gasps surrounded them, the photographer’s hands kept moving, "Wonderful."

Fiona’s eyes widened, hearing it was time to change outfits, she escaped quickly, cheeks flushed, lips slightly moist.

"Wow, didn’t expect them to be this sweet in private as well."

"Seems true then, beyond the union, it’s real love."

"Looks like it, ah, I want to post on Twitter."

"Don’t rush, probably by tonight you can post."

Zayne walked back to the fitting room, overhearing a few staff members quietly excited, smiled wickedly, but didn’t stop.

They changed a few more outfits, finally wrapping up the photoshoot, during which Zayne often assisted himself.

"Let’s grab a bite."

Zayne found it amusing, seeing the woman immediately glued to her phone upon getting in the car.

"No, I’ll eat at home. These days I’ve been with you, haven’t had home-cooked meals in a while."

"Then I’ll come over too."

Fiona swiftly turned her head, "No way." Seeing Zayne raise his brows, she coughed lightly, "I mean, we just got engaged. Even though it’s a union, if you come over I’m afraid my brother might lash out at you, better wait a few days."

Her words made Zayne squint his eyes, glancing sideways at the woman, chuckled, "Fine, as you say."

Fiona finally took a breath of relief.

By nightfall, seeing the couple’s wedding fitting photos online, many felt like a bottle of vinegar was knocked over. No one could deny the couple’s authenticity or claim they were pretending anymore.

Many offered congratulations, wishing the couple a swift marriage and couple many offspring.

Invitations from the Sinclair and Rhodes families were sent everywhere. Later, Adrian Grant, after receiving his invitation, dressed up and rushed to Vesperia.

Back home, Moira Young had been busy for a while, with Joe by her side. Recently having some free time, she returned to the corner days of scrolling her phone since the winter break.

"Union." Moira looked at the automatic notifications about the Sinclair and Rhodes families’ union, her lips pouting slightly, feeling a bit bitter. Seeing the slowly loading photos, she scornfully scoffed, tossed her phone, and buried herself under her blanket.

On the day of the engagement ceremony, the couple woke up early, had breakfast, and began getting ready. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

Fiona wore the wedding dress she designed herself, looking at the radiant reflection in the mirror, smirked self-deprecatingly.

"What’s wrong, not happy?"

Behind her, Zayne shooed everyone away and quietly approached, hugged the woman’s waist, resting his chin on her neck.

Looking at the handsome couple in the mirror, Fiona smiled, "No, just never thought I’d wear the dress I designed myself."

Lately, Fiona had grown accustomed to Zayne’s touches, turning to support his arm.

"By the wedding, you can design another set, better design mine as well."

The man noticed and reached for his earlobe, shrinking his neck, and with his right index finger, pushed the man’s head away.

"Stop fooling around, you go first, the guests should be arriving soon."

Zayne Sinclair shrugged his shoulders, missing an opportunity for advantage, nodded, gave some instructions, and went down.

"Second Master Sinclair, congratulations."

"Mr. Yates, you’re too kind, please come in."

"Mr. Rhodes, what fortune you have."

"Haha, President Pierce, long time no see. Quentin, lead Mr. Pierce over."

The heads of both families stood at the entrance welcoming the guests.

"Oh, here comes the groom, hahaha, such a handsome fellow."

Seeing him, everyone extended their congratulations to Zayne Sinclair, who nodded with a smile and walked to the door.

"Uncle, congratulations," Julian Sinclair said, nodding to Mr. Rhodes.

Zayne Sinclair saw and quickly walked over a few steps.

"I didn’t expect you’d actually come."

Julian Sinclair slightly raised an eyebrow without responding.

"Aren’t you afraid of embarrassing yourself?"

As they brushed shoulders, Zayne leaned in with a mocking smile.

"Congratulations," Julian Sinclair replied mildly, lifting his foot to walk away.

Zayne watched as the man walked to the family seating, his eyes darkening. Upon hearing more congratulations from behind, he snorted and turned to leave.

"Oh, you really showed up."

Julian Sinclair looked up, glanced at the man next to him, then lowered his head to attend to his business.

Adrian Grant, having been brushed off, sat hurriedly to the side and put down his wine glass.

"I mean, even if you don’t fancy Fiona Rhodes, having your woman taken midway is quite the disgrace. Didn’t you think of taking her back?" As he spoke, his voice lowered, as if suddenly realizing something. He widened his eyes. "No way, you’re here to crash the wedding, aren’t you?"

Glancing at the absurd man opposite him as if looking at an idiot, Julian Sinclair lowered his voice: "How long has it been? Your IQ seems to have regressed."

Recognizing his mistake from the jab, Adrian Grant rubbed his chin, still worried, and said, "Aren’t you even a little concerned? With the Rhodes family now linked to Zayne, his chances for inheritance are noticeably better than yours. Aren’t you even slightly anxious, hmm?"

Julian Sinclair, unfazed, shook his head without a trace of emotion: "Relax, there’s still time before the day they choose."

"So, you’ve already got a strategy?" Adrian Grant squinted, a smile creeping up.

Seeing the man across from him, like a meditating monk focused on his work, Adrian shrugged, helplessly shook his head, and leaned back in his seat.

"Alright, I’ll stop worrying blindly. Just call me if you need anything."

Julian Sinclair’s lips curled slightly, then fell back into place within moments, barely noticeable.

Back home, in Moira Young’s apartment.

"Miss, your delivery has arrived. I’ve left it at the door."

Early in the morning, Moira Young, with her hair in a mess and eyes slightly swollen, checked the message on her phone and opened the door.

She counted to make sure all the bottles were there before confirming receipt.

Turning around, she grabbed some homemade appetizers from the fridge brought earlier by Joe, opened a bottle of newly delivered wine, and began drinking while they were still warm.

Marriage, engagement, ha, what a joke.

What was she in the end? She couldn’t understand.

Empty wine bottles scattered across the floor.

Wrong, she was nothing now. They had broken up, broken up.

Thinking this, tears rolled down her cheeks, splattering onto the floor.

She hadn’t seen Uncle for two months now.

Her heart felt like it had a hole punched through it, the wind whistling through, numbing her to the pain.

Why, why was she supposed to be the bride, she was supposed to be Julian Sinclair’s bride.

Pounding her chest vigorously, Moira Young started crying and shouting.

"Why are you so useless, Moira Young? Didn’t you promise to forget? Didn’t you agree?"

Choking down a swallow, she slowly removed the bottle from her lips, staring at her tear-reddened, solitary reflection in the mirror, Moira Young hurled the bottle away.

She couldn’t forget, that was her Uncle, the one she had dreamed of marrying since she was young, her Uncle, her Julian Sinclair, she could never forget, not in this life, not the next.

Sarcastically pointing at the woman in the mirror, she picked up the surrounding bottles and headed to the bedroom.

The freshly shattered glass shards quietly sliced through the tender skin of her feet, blood seeping gently.

Pity, unnoticed.

"Hey, hey, have you thought about how to win the little girl back?" Adrian Grant, seeing the surrounding women, felt bored and casually asked the man beside him.

Julian Sinclair paused his work, glaring darkly at the leisurely Adrian Grant.

"Seems you’re really idle, aren’t you?"

Adrian Grant, sipping his drink, caught a glimpse of the man’s expression and choked slightly, quickly waving his hand.

"Haha, not idle, not idle at all, very busy, very busy."

Just as they were talking, the engagement ceremony began up front.

After the host finished speaking, the microphone was handed to Zayne Sinclair, who had come up.

"A heartfelt thanks to all the elders, predecessors, and friends for attending my and Fiona’s engagement ceremony. The two of us met by chance and are fortunate to be together. I am very grateful and hope to share this joy with everyone, thank you."

"Alright, next we invite our leading lady today, Miss Fiona Rhodes, to join us." The host took over, and applause erupted in the audience.

Julian Sinclair and Adrian Grant turned around and applauded.

Upstairs, Fiona Rhodes listened to Zayne Sinclair’s words, curled her lips coldly, and remained seated.

"Mr. Rhodes, it’s time to head down," the staff who rushed over said.

"Let me touch up my makeup. Hang on, some things aren’t done yet."

This wait lasted almost ten minutes.

The atmosphere became a bit awkward, Zayne Sinclair stood there with an inscrutable expression, still upright.

Mr. Rhodes darkened his face and asked Quentin Rhodes to see what his audacious daughter was up to this time.

"Haha, it seems our bride is quite reserved. This is an early power play for us. Looks like the groom’s future status at home is uncertain."

The host smoothed over the situation, making the guests laugh.

Adrian Grant sneered, "Lucky you didn’t marry this woman, too much trouble."

Seeing Julian Sinclair’s face darken, he automatically raised his hand, making a zipping motion at his mouth.

"Fiona, are you done causing trouble?" Quentin Rhodes knocked on the door, speaking with annoyance.

Inside, Fiona Rhodes expressionless, she just wanted to put Zayne Sinclair in his place, humph.

She glanced at the clock on the wall before standing up and opening the door.

"Brother, don’t be mad, I just felt a little unwell, I’m fine now."

Quentin Rhodes looked at the woman who was clearly lying, and since there were people around, he couldn’t say much more, and escorted Fiona Rhodes downstairs arm-in-arm.

Zayne Sinclair watched the gracefully approaching woman, squinted in a sinister smile.

Humph, alright, daring to come like this, you’ll have your time.

"Alright, our Miss Rhodes has finally arrived, arm-in-arm with her brother, thinking she caused a scene because of no family." The host spoke, and the surrounding people looked over.

The lady guests came with faces full of envy, watching Quentin Rhodes hand Fiona’s hand to Zayne Sinclair, the two clasped hands, and the whole venue was filled with an instinctive pink bubble.

Online, the onlookers watching the video exploded, clamoring and wishing they could break into their phones.

"What’s all the commotion over there?"

Aiden Webb sat in a chair, glancing up indifferently at the group of women across from him holding their phones excitedly.

"Uh, it’s the Sinclair family’s second son’s engagement party. This engagement party is quite lavish, rivaling even a wedding ceremony, it seems it’s for real."

"Engagement party?"

"Yes,

previously it was said to be a union with President Sinclair but ultimately the Rhodes family chose the Sinclair family’s second son, Zayne Sinclair."

Aiden Webb’s face fell, thinking of Moira Young, feeling uncertain: "Let’s go to Moira’s place."

The assistant beside him shook his head.

He entered the password and opened Moira Young’s house. Seeing the floor covered with liquor bottles, Aiden Webb frowned: "Moira."

Calling out, he walked toward the bedroom.

Seeing the bedroom strewn with glasses and liquor stains, a disheveled woman curled up in bed, her face with evident tear marks, already drunk and asleep, he sighed deeply.

He caressed Moira Young’s cheek, tidied up the surroundings, and went out first.

"Go buy some groceries," he instructed the assistant and started cleaning the house.

By evening, he finally finished, and Moira Young woke up from her drunken sleep.

"Brother, why are you here." Her voice carried the remnants of a sob, slightly hoarse.

"Sober-up tea."

She blinked, smiling foolishly: "I want to drink alcohol."

Saying so, ignoring Aiden Webb’s objections, she went to the box searching for more alcohol.

"Where’s the alcohol, where’s the alcohol, why is it gone."

Aiden Webb came over, holding her back: "You’ve drunk it all, how could there be any left."

Moira felt a bit aggrieved: "Who says, it clearly wasn’t finished, I clearly just bought a case."

"Be good, drink some sober-up tea."

She turned her head away, not wanting to talk to Aiden Webb, sat down on the sofa, and said nothing, blankly staring out of the floor-to-ceiling window.

Aiden Webb sighed, placing the sober-up tea on the coffee table, sat beside her, silent.

After a while, he felt his shoulder slightly weigh down, seeing Moira Young sleeping again, he rubbed her head.

Mumbling to himself: "Do you think it’s time to tell mom and dad about this?"

He chuckled bitterly, looking at the person beside him, thinking about previously implying the topic of biological parents, Moira Young’s resistance, he sighed again.

Gently picking her up, he laid her on the bed.

This matter must have a conclusion no matter what, how could he bear Moira Young suffering like this?

Without Julian Sinclair, she seemed like a puppet doll without a soul, mature enough to evoke sympathy.

Watching Moira Young’s sleeping face, the pale little face still bearing faint traces of tears, with dark circles under her eyes signaling poor rest.

Seeing Moira Young like this, Aiden Webb sighed heavily. Since Julian Sinclair didn’t know how to cherish her, then let the Winslow family protect her.

Aiden Webb worried about Moira Young, not leaving that night, simply sleeping in the living room, occasionally going to the bedroom to check on her.

After tossing and turning all night, he finally fell asleep at dawn.

"Julian Sinclair, don’t go, sob, Julian Sinclair, Uncle, where are you."

Moira Young woke up with a sob from her dream, her eyes bleary as she stared blankly before coming back to reality.

She rubbed the corners of her eyes and weakly crawled out from under the blankets.

"Ah, my head hurts."

As she was rubbing her head, she was tripped by the blanket when getting out of bed and stumbled onto the floor: "Ah, ouch."

Tears that hadn’t been fully shed rolled out, and she dejectedly punched the blanket strewn at her feet: "Even you’re bullying me."

"What happened, Moira?"

Hearing Moira Young’s cry, Aiden Webb sprang awake, forgetting to put on his slippers as he hurried in from the living room.

"Brother, why are you here?" Moira Young widened her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks and onto the floor.

Aiden Webb sighed softly: "Did you fall?"

He quickly walked over to Moira Young, who had fallen beside the bed, helping her up without questioning why she was crying.

"Did you twist your ankle?" he gently touched Moira Young’s ankle.

Moira Young shook her head: "I’m fine, I just accidentally got tripped by the blanket when I was getting up."

Aiden Webb ruffled the messy hair of the woman in front of him and glanced at his watch.

"I’ll make breakfast, you freshen up." With that, he was about to leave.

Moira Young lowered her head, speaking softly: "Brother, you didn’t leave last night?"

"No, hurry up and get up."

Moira Young opened her mouth, watching the departing silhouette of the man, drooping her shoulders for a moment before curling back into the blanket.

Half an hour later, after tidying up briefly, Moira Young went downstairs.

Looking at the house which had become clean and tidy like before, carrying a fragrant scent.

She walked a few steps forward, the busy figure of Aiden Webb making her nose feel slightly sour, and she sniffed hard to push it down.

"All set, breakfast is almost ready."

Aiden Webb placed two bowls of milk porridge on the table, then turned around to take out bread and peanut butter from the refrigerator.

"Come and eat."

Moira Young lifted her foot, walking softly to the dining table and sat down. For a while, the room was filled only with the sound of their quiet chewing.

"I’m full."

Aiden Webb looked at the nearly untouched porridge, frowning lightly: "Eat a bit more."

Moira Young silently shook her head, getting up weakly: "I have no appetite, you enjoy."

She slowly walked to the sofa and curled up again.

Aiden Webb’s face turned solemn, not knowing what to say.

In Vesperia, Adrian Grant noticed that everything was settled and greeted Julian Sinclair, taking the return flight home this morning.

By afternoon, Heath Sterling came as usual to find Moira Young.

"Moira, you..." Seeing Aiden Webb cleaning at the door, he was momentarily at a loss for words, "Aiden?"

Aiden Webb nodded: "You’re here to see Moira?"

Heath Sterling nodded slightly, looking somewhat uneasy: "Yes."

"She’s in a bad mood, don’t provoke her." Aiden Webb said, glancing towards the floor-to-ceiling window.

Heath Sterling squinted his eyes, sighed lightly, and walked over.

"Moira, guess what I brought you today."

Heath Sterling took out a new spring season bag from behind and placed it in front of Moira Young.

Moira Young’s gaze didn’t move, still staring outside the window.

The man furrowed his brows, waving his hand in front of Moira Young, seeing her still dazed, then turned his head and walked over to Aiden Webb’s side.

"What’s happened to her?" He reached out to stop Aiden Webb’s movements.

Aiden Webb looked at Heath Sterling with an expressionless face and said softly: "Who else do you think could make her like this."

Heath Sterling pursed his lips, his face darkening.

"Didn’t they... break up?"

Aiden Webb let out a cold snort, dousing any warmth: "Affairs of the heart, who knows? Besides, they’ve been together for so many years, knowing Moira’s character, it’ll take her a while to forget."

After saying that, he ignored whatever expression Heath Sterling had and turned into the washroom.

"Hey, Professor Webb, it’s time, the director and others are waiting for you on set." The assistant called.

Aiden Webb poked his head out, looking at Moira Young who still sat dazed on the sofa, and his face darkened: "I got it, come pick me up in half an hour."

Hanging up the call, he pulled Heath Sterling aside.

"I have things to do later, when will you leave?"

Heath Sterling shook his head: "I’m free all afternoon."

"Keep an eye on things."

Heath Sterling chuckled: "Rest assured."

Aiden Webb’s face turned cold as he grabbed Heath Sterling’s collar harshly: "Behave yourself, if I find out you have any ulterior motives towards Moira, I’ll kill you!"

After saying this, he tossed the collar in his hand, took off his apron, and turned to leave.

Heath Sterling swallowed hard, his gaze firm: "Rest assured, although I like Moira, I would never take advantage of her."