The Illegitimate Flame: Bride of Ashes-Chapter 127- Could it be?

Twenty minutes later, Charles’s iconic Bugatti Veyron gleamed under the streetlights as it pulled up in front of Janet. Manfred lingered behind her, watching helplessly as she smiled warmly at another man and slipped into his arms, a sharp pain piercing his heart.

After Charles left, Peggy and Simon pulled Manfred back inside. Manfred cast a forlorn glance toward the disappearing tail lights, silently wondering if Janet truly belonged to someone else now—and if he had lost his chance forever.

"You didn’t tell me Manfred was here," Charles said calmly, his eyes fixed ahead, his tone tinged with displeasure.

"Sorry, I didn’t know he was here either!" Janet admitted sheepishly, flicking her tongue out. She’d promised not to see Manfred again; tonight was just a coincidence. She had no idea Simon had called her to a place where Manfred was present. From now on, she would avoid any contact with him.

"Oh, and I saw Elvira at the bar. She’s changed so much, I barely recognized her," Janet added, the memory of that chilling glance still lingering in her mind. Though she once hated Elvira and her mother, she never wanted to retaliate or use Charles’s power against them. The past was behind her, and she chose to forget.

"Janet, stay away from anyone in the Louis family. No matter what happens, don’t get involved. Promise me," Charles said flatly. Elvira’s downfall was her own doing. He intended to watch her transformation from a highborn lady to a despised woman.

"I couldn’t care less about her. I only intervened because of Philip," Janet shrugged indifferently. Elvira’s ruin had nothing to do with her. She didn’t believe Elvira fell because she stole Charles from her.

As the car turned a corner, Janet pointed to a shining five-star hotel ahead. "Charles, have you eaten? I’m really hungry!"

She’d only had a lemon juice all evening, and her usually small appetite suddenly felt empty.

"I want to eat the food you cook," Charles smiled longingly. Though Fiona usually cooked for him, Janet rarely did. He disliked her hands smelling of oil and smoke—he just loved watching her care for him. She was his, his wife, and he cherished seeing her devoted to him.

"It’s late already, how about tomorrow?" Janet suggested as Charles steered the car onto the driveway. After parking, he handed the keys to the valet and led her into the restaurant.

It was a Chinese restaurant with a vintage atmosphere. The white walls displayed bold ink paintings, and the polished marble floor gleamed. The deep, balanced tones gave the space a regal aura reminiscent of an imperial palace.

"What do you want to eat?" Charles handed Janet a menu with gold-edged covers. He was picky, disliking overly colorful dishes. Though Janet had somewhat softened his habits, he still retained a slight fastidiousness.

"Just these," Janet said, pointing to a few signature dishes on the menu. For some reason, she suddenly craved seafood, even though she hadn’t been fond of it before.

She ordered a set meal for Charles. By the time he finished, Janet had only eaten half. He sat quietly across from her, watching her serene, doll-like presence—moments like these always moved him deeply.

"Look at your hands!" When Janet finished eating, her fingers were stained with mustard and sauce. Charles didn’t mind at all; he patiently wiped her fingers with a napkin. But when his hand brushed the rough spots on her fingertips, a sharp pain shot through him. Those who had hurt Janet in the Louis family deserved to pay.

"I’m going to the restroom," Janet said, placing down the napkin and heading towards the bathroom. Charles had already called for the bill.

Janet stood before the wide mirror, carefully studying her delicate face. Since being with Charles, she found herself smiling more and more.

The sudden sound of running water snapped her back. She bent down to turn off the faucet, and a wave of nausea from the bar returned—but she couldn’t vomit. Her mind flashed to when she was pregnant last time.

Could it be?

She realized her period hadn’t come since returning from Hawaii. Janet was startled by the thought but then a subtle joy crept over her face. Unsure, she was afraid to hope only to be disappointed.

Thinking about Charles’s reaction, she decided to visit the hospital tomorrow before telling him.

That night, Janet had a strange dream. She dreamt of being separated from Charles, hearing his desperate calls, but she couldn’t look back. Another man stood beside her; she tried to reach for Charles’s hand but was forcibly pulled away. The suffocating pain woke her with a scream. Charles had already turned on the bedside lamp, gently stroking her sweaty face, soothing her softly, "Bad dream? Don’t be afraid."

"Charles!" This unsettling feeling was new. Since returning from Australia, she feared something was about to happen. She was terrified of losing him.

Janet sobbed quietly, burying herself in Charles’s embrace, clutching his waist tightly. Only by smelling his scent could she calm her unrest.

Was it the pregnancy that made her so sensitive?

"Don’t leave me. I’m so scared!" Janet fought the fear inside, and Charles held her close. He had never seen this expression before—like she had faced something terrible in her sleep. He wouldn’t allow it. His Janet should always be happy. Seeing her so vulnerable broke his heart.

"Silly girl, I won’t leave you. I’m always by your side. Now sleep peacefully," Charles kissed her forehead, brushing back the hair sticking to her cheek, pulling her closer to his warm chest.

Janet gradually calmed down in Charles’s embrace, feeling his warmth as the fear in her heart slowly faded away. Outside, the night was deep, and the soft light in the restaurant cast their entwined figures in a gentle glow. She whispered softly, "Charles, thank you." He responded tenderly, "No matter what happens, I will protect you and our future."

At that moment, Janet realized that no matter how complicated the road ahead, with Charles by her side, she was no longer alone. The news of her pregnancy took root quietly in her heart, bringing hope and courage. The night breeze gently witnessed this warmth and determination.

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