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Chapter 7: Chapter 7: From Now On, It’s Purple Summers 1
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May Francis’s cheeks were slightly reddened, she felt somewhat shy.
Although she was still confused about what was happening, living in such a luxurious intensive care unit with a suddenly appeared handsome stranger claiming to be her lover, everything seemed like a wonderful dream.
Alexander Summers cut the dragon fruit into pieces with a small knife and placed them in exquisite tableware.
“Have some fruit,” he said, his voice soft.
May lowered her head in acknowledgment, tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and shyly ate a few pieces with a fork.
Alexander sat beside her, watching her intently, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, as if he was scrutinizing something…
May didn’t understand the deeper implication in his eyes.
In fact, she had always felt strange about Alexander. Although he visited her every day and claimed to be her boyfriend, he was always cold towards her. Even when he occasionally showed tenderness, it was fleeting, giving a… unpredictable feeling.
Being stared at while eating made her uncomfortable, May put down her fork, mumbling, “I don’t have any appetite. I’ll eat later…”
Alexander kept gazing at her, silent. After a moment, he suddenly smiled and said, “Don’t you like it? No worries, I’ll buy something else for you next time.”
May looked at him, not understanding why he suddenly became cheerful…
Clearly, he was the one who bought the fruit. Clearly, he was the one who wanted her to eat it…
And, she didn’t say she didn’t like it.
May’s gaze fell on the dragon fruit in the porcelain dish, fresh and juicy.
She thought to herself, maybe… she shouldn’t eat it again next time.
…
Suzanne Saunders followed Atra Blanc back to the Summers Residence.
The Summers Residence was located in a famous wealthy district of Clearwater City. It was a European classical villa, the hierarchical and symmetrical columns and the white walls decorated with curves, filled with a sense of romanticism yet maintaining an elegant luxury.
The iron gate with intertwined floral designs slowly opened, revealing the familiar scenery inside.
They got off the car at the entrance. The family’s servant took the luggage from Atra Blanc, greeting, “Mrs. Blanc, Miss Purple Summers.”
Suzanne had a moment of bewilderment.
That’s right… She was no longer the renowned young lady of the Summers Family but an insignificant foster daughter, Purple Summers.
To revisit the place in a changed identity was indeed poignant.
Purple followed Atra Blanc inside.
The villa was magnificent, but they didn’t live there.
Behind the half-arched garden of the villa, there was a small western style building, that was their residence.
The small western-style building had white walls and red roofs, the outer wall covered with lush ivy that merged with the garden scenery, giving a vintage yet fresh feeling.
Such a house, considered a “small villa” that many people outside couldn’t afford in a lifetime, was not up to par in the Summers Residence.
After entering, there was a living room on one side and a dining room on the other. The decor still carried the European vintage feeling, but it was more idyllic rather than luxurious.
The bedrooms were on the second floor.
Purple’s room was furnished with a set of handmade pine furniture. They were not particularly expensive, but they had a rustic charm and a faint scent of pine.
The room was comfortably and warmly decorated, and Purple was quite satisfied.
She pushed open the bay window of her room and found that from here she could exactly see the villa in front of her, with an open view.
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There was a gentle knock on the door, Atra Blanc came to find Purple.
“You were staying in the hospital these days and couldn’t attend your sister-in-law’s funeral. Let’s go and offer an incense stick to your sister-in-law in a while,” she said.
“Indeed, we should offer the incense,” Purple nodded.
Lighting a stick of incense, hoping that her rebirth won’t be in vain. To revenge the enemies, repay the favors, and make a closure to everything.
She looked towards the villa not too far away, thinking: The murderer who killed me is in that house…
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