Impulsive Vow to an Enigmatic Husband novel Chapter 496

Parents shouldn't be instilling such ideas in their kids from a young age.

Cornelia had always found Natalia's affection for Marcus a bit off. A guy who never smiled at a girl, couldn't even remember what she looked like. Yet she still talked about wanting to marry him every day. Unless she was into some kind of self-torture, how could this be possible?

Turned out, the root of the problem lied within Natalia's family.

Cornelia thought for a moment, then said: [Natalia, as you said. Those were things from your childhood. Now you're grown up, you can think for yourself. Forget what they said to you, forget Marcus, and just live your own life.]

Natalia replied with a bitter smile: [Cornelia, it's not that I don't want to. It's that I can't.]

Cornelia asked: [Is there something you can't tell me?]

Natalia said: [No. Alright, I won't bother you anymore. Go get some sleep.]

Cornelia didn't press further: [Alright, you should get some rest too.]

After ending the chat, Natalia stared at Cornelia's messages. She knew all these things, but she was powerless to change anything. Looking at the long message, she zoned out, her vision blurring.

After an unknown amount of time, her dimmed phone screen lit up again. It was a call from an unknown number. "Hello! Who's this?" She asked.

A charming but dangerous male voice came through, "I'm offering you a chance to be with Marcus. Do you want it?"

"Yes! I want it!" Natalia answered without hesitation. Only after did she think to ask, "Who are you? How do you know what I want?"

Natalia had never heard of the Riverside Terrace Club before and thought it was just a small, unknown place. Upon arriving and seeing the luxurious facilities, she realized that even the Reese family might not be eligible to be members.

Someone was waiting for her at the entrance and led her directly into a courtyard. The courtyard was filled with various buildings, small bridges, and streams, looking like a fairyland.

Riverton was an international city with expensive real estate. To own a club of thousands of square feet here, the owner must have an extraordinary identity.

Natalia was led into a loft where a man dressed entirely in black with a stern face was sitting.

He was smoking a cigarette, puff after puff. Only after he finished did he turn his head to look at her, his gaze seemingly scrutinizing her, yet with a hint of disdain, "You're Natalia?"