the two-faced Adopted Girl Who Melted CEO's Ice-Cold Heart

Chapter 492: Only with love that penetrates deep into the marrow can there be hatred that cuts to the heart when expelled

Delphine looked at the man in front of her, so serious and composed, his sharp, handsome features betraying someone not yet thirty. In the South Seas, he wielded overwhelming power, his entire being exuding the refined aura of aristocracy and an air of restrained desire cultivated over years of family heritage. This was the type of man who wanted to marry her—any normal person would be thrilled. Yet, all she could feel was dread.

She couldn’t sense any love or joy. This man was so perfect it bordered on coldness. Even as he spoke of marriage, it felt more like completing a ritual, after which he would naturally assume control of her life.

"What are you panicking about?" Delphine gazed into his long and deeply set phoenix-shaped eyes, her own slightly misty, and asked softly.

Ignatius Leclair narrowed his eyes, unable to comprehend what Delphine meant.

"Do you remember the first time we held hands?" Her eyes grew uncontrollably damp. The first time she called him ’brother,’ the first time they held hands, their first date, their first kiss, the first time they ran barefoot through the night. Back then, he wasn’t as inscrutable as he was now. He was deeply handsome and seemingly perfect but would still be astonished at her way of life, occasionally joining her in reckless indulgence.

Because of those three years of youthful companionship, it led to the subsequent love carved into her very being as well as the soul-crushing hatred that formed when he pushed her away.

Ignatius’s sharply defined face changed slightly as he struggled to recall any meaningful memories of their time together. Whenever he tried, all he could conjure were the most mundane exchanges, like replaying an old movie. He was both a disinterested outsider and a participant.

Perhaps all along, Delphine’s feelings had been one-sided. Men like him would never point that out.

"I wasn’t good enough to you before, but I will make it up to you from now on," he promised earnestly.

Delphine felt a pang of disappointment. So this was it—the youthful days she could never let go of meant absolutely nothing to Ignatius.

"I won’t go register for marriage with you," she said, lowering her gaze and speaking coldly. There had been no love back then, and there was no love now between them. What emotions could exist between them? Their long-term arrangement as lovers had now produced an unintended child. But this wasn’t love. A marriage devoid of affection was nothing but a grave. She hadn’t sunk so low as to use a child to beg for a marriage.

Ignatius’s handsome eyebrows furrowed tightly. His thin lips pursed as he spoke lowly, "You’re just tired. Get some rest, and we’ll talk tomorrow."

After finishing, he didn’t bother waiting for her reply and wrapped an arm around her, leading her away.

Delphine sneered and pulled his hand away. It had always been like this. He could marry whoever he wanted, just not her.

She walked straight into the room and slammed the door shut behind her with a loud "bang."

Ignatius frowned deeply as he saw her anger. He had no idea what he’d done wrong. But angry or not, the marriage would happen no matter what. If need be, he would pacify her slowly afterward—time would eventually soften her anger.

His phoenix-shaped eyes narrowed as he made a call to his assistant, instructing him to bring Delphine’s household registration booklet tomorrow morning.

By the following morning, Delphine noticed Ignatius hadn’t shown up nor mentioned registering for marriage. Thinking the situation had passed, she followed her usual routine and went on a walk. Upon her return, she found him waiting at the front of the house. Maximilian was standing off to the side with two middle-aged workers wearing uniforms.

Delphine ignored the scene and walked straight into the house. Just as she passed by him, Ignatius reached out and grabbed her wrist firmly. His deep, phoenix-like eyes fixated on her as he said, "Wait."

Her wrist was locked tightly in his grasp, and she couldn’t break free. Then she heard Ignatius, with his usual refined and commanding tone, say to the two workers, "We can register now."