Rebirth Into My Second Chance

I arrived at the cemetery early, only to find the tombstone bore the names Clayton and Lenore, which were my parents' names. It didn't take long to figure out Max was behind this change.

Sure enough, as I turned around toward the cemetery's main gate, there he was. Dressed in a classic black suit, Max approached me with two bouquets. That was our first meeting since our last visit to the cemetery. His presence seemed to cue the staff to begin the interment as if they had been waiting for him. It appeared Max had orchestrated everything.

I managed a faint smile. I got a second chance at life, yet it seemed the only thing I'd leveraged was Max's influence. In all other aspects, I felt utterly powerless.

As Max stepped out of his car, rain began to pour. Instantly, his bodyguards took action, one holding an umbrella over him while another rushed to offer me shelter under another. I refused.

Max walked toward me, took the umbrella from his bodyguard, and held it high above my head, sheltering us both from the rain. Meanwhile, the bodyguards ensured the staff and the ashes remained dry.

The rain intensified, hastening the ceremony's conclusion. Once the funeral was over, Max and I stood side by side under the umbrella, exchanging no words.

"Ms. Floyd, the ceremony is over," one of the staff members announced before leaving us alone.

"How have you been this past month?" Max finally broke the silence.

"Fine," I replied tersely, my voice barely louder than the rain.

I didn't care if Max could hear me or not. After all, if he wanted to know how I was doing, he could find out effortlessly.

I felt despair since he chose not to punish Tracey, knowing how easy it was for someone of his stature to manipulate someone like me. I was determined to take justice into my own hands. "Richard mentioned you moved," he tried to make conversation, bringing up Richard.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Do you need Richard to tell you anything? You could find out anything you wanted to know about me."

After saying that, I put on my

sunglasses, stepped into the rain, and walked away. Max followed, still holding the umbrella over me, until the Hilton family's driver respectfully opened the car door for me, saying, "Ms. Floyd, please get in."

Remembering the day that same driver handed me contraception with such formality made me refuse the ride. Instead, I quickened my pace, got into my car, and drove off without saying goodbye.

Looking in the rearview mirror, I saw

Max didn't linger or watch me leave. He handed the umbrella back to the driver and got into his car. It was a stark reminder that no one would be your shelter forever, that perhaps from that moment on, we were strangers.

But fate had a way of mocking us.

My phone rang endlessly with my mentor's calls. "We've made progress with the experiment. The Hilton Group has donated some materials to us. The dean wants our research team to join them for dinner tonight as a token

appreciation. We might meetNôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

Mr. Hilton."

I sighed, knowing I wished to keep my distance from Max, who seemed indifferent toward me. Yet, he had contributed to our research. "You're a key member of this experiment. You must be present," my mentor emphasized, knowing my usual aversion to social gatherings. "Understood," I relented.

When I hung up, a senior colleague from my research team called. "Claire, if you're not going to that dinner, neither am I."