Chapter 11 An Early Birthday Gift

Isabella was done dealing with people who didn't matter to her anymore. She sang a tune, her hair casually tied up with a flower that swayed as she moved. Her blue dress was stunning, with sleeves that floated like clouds as she danced.

When she finished, Samuel clapped like crazy, his eyes were bright with amusement and he spoke with a hint of indulgence, "Isabella, you sing so well. Back in the day, you would've totally won the king's favor."

Isabella's mood soured instantly. She widened her eyes and snapped, "Samuel, I don't want to win the king's favor. I'd rather be a confident queen who runs the show herself."

Samuel gave a helpless smile. "Isabella, that's quite a unique thought. Speaking of which, you know about Dad's three mistresses, right?"

Isabella's expression turned a bit awkward, her eyes showing a mix of emotions. Samuel went on, "Isabella, don't overthink it. Over the past three years, Dad's three mistresses have genuinely cared about you. They often secretly ask me how you're doing and if you're facing any difficulties out there."

Isabella looked at Samuel, puzzled. "Samuel, what exactly are you trying to say?"

Samuel sighed. "Isabella, why did you leave home without a word to become a Doctors Without Borders volunteer? I get that you were mad at Dad. I know he's got his faults, but blood ties can't be changed, and we can't choose them. Besides, Dad really loves you. And Dad's three mistresses have kept the house in perfect order for years without any ill intentions. I can vouch for their sincerity."

Isabella thought to herself, 'Samuel, I stopped blaming them a long time ago; I just haven't found the chance to tell you.'

Meanwhile, Michael sat in the room as David finished bandaging his wound. Lost in his memories, Grace's image popped into his mind. Back in the day, Grace stuck by him through his toughest times, and this bond gradually became an obsession. But now, Grace was giving him a headache.

In his memory, Grace was gentle and lovely. But now, her behavior was completely different, often leaving Michael feeling helpless.

Michael shook his head, trying to shake off these thoughts, and began to focus on his work. He glanced at a suit hanging in the closet. When he took it out and put it on, it fit perfectly, like it was tailor-made for him. The craftsmanship was exquisite, with every stitch showing meticulous care. He couldn't help but think, 'Olivia really has good taste.'

Just then, the maid Kenna walked in with a cup of hot milk. Seeing Michael in the suit, she smiled and said, "Mr. Johnson, Mrs. Johnson put a lot of thought into this suit. She started working on it a month ago as a birthday gift for you."

Michael was genuinely surprised. He was stunned for a moment but quickly put on his usual indifferent expression. "Kenna, that's all in the past. I've divorced her, and I don't want to talk about her anymore," he said.

Kenna got anxious. "Mr. Johnson, is there some misunderstanding between you and Mrs. Johnson?"

Michael frowned, clearly impatient. "Kenna, stop talking. If she truly loved me, would we have ended up divorced? She never genuinely liked me."

Kenna wanted to keep explaining. "Mr. Johnson, you really misunderstood Mrs. Johnson. She did so many things for you, and every single one was sincere."

But Michael shook his head firmly and raised his voice. "Kenna, stop talking. I know there was another purpose behind her actions. I don't want to hear about her anymore."

Kenna sighed, knowing Michael was stubborn and wouldn't listen. But she felt his treatment of Isabella was unfair, so she muttered softly, "Mr. Johnson, if you keep this up, you'll definitely regret missing out on Mrs. Johnson."

Michael felt uncomfortable and angrily told Kenna, "This is the last time, Kenna. Don't mention her again. I only care about my work and life now; she's in the past."

Seeing that Michael was really angry, Kenna had no choice but to close her mouth. She silently placed the hot milk on the table and left the room.

Watching Kenna leave, Michael felt a bit unsettled. He looked at the suit he was wearing and thought of Isabella, letting out a cold laugh.

He believed he couldn't be wrong about her; Isabella must have had some hidden agenda. But deep down, a small voice questioned whether he had really misunderstood her. However, this thought quickly passed, and he reaffirmed his belief.

Isabella's life after the divorce was comfortable and free. Back at the Johnson Manor, she had to get up early every morning to make breakfast for the Johnson family and always had to be mindful of their moods. But now, it was different. She was like a bird freed from its cage, doing whatever she wanted.

She had even developed a good habit of morning exercise. Every morning, she would go rowing alone. On the shimmering water, she rowed with all her strength, as if releasing all the grievances and oppression she had felt at the Johnson Manor with each stroke.

After her morning exercise, she felt recharged and full of energy. At that moment, Jerry appeared in front of her.