Married a Secret Billionaire by Breaking Wave

Chatper 1763

Camila seized the opportunity to speak. "Daniel, you can't just say whatever you want. No matter what, this has

nothing to do with me. It's just a coincidence. Believe me or not, it's up to you. That's all I'm going to say!"

She left immediately after speaking and hurriedly exited the lounge.

Daniel remained seated for a while before finally departing.

As he passed by the office, he observed Camila engrossed in work-related discussions with her colleagues. They

were deeply engaged, occasionally sharing jokes.

Without the recent incident, she appeared as a diligent employee with no apparent grievances.

Camila noticed his gaze—she turned her face, offered a smile, and then resumed the discussion.

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His gaze sank. Lily had been correct—she possessed remarkable mental resilience. Despite witnessing her panic

moments ago, she was now casually conversing with others.

Daniel composed himself and left the office. While he could certainly exploit his leverage over Camila's parents,

who had questionable financial transactions and secured mid-level positions for their children through nepotism, he

hesitated. His concern lingered on the possibility that these individuals might not be Camila's true vulnerabilities.

After all, she was merely an adoptive daughter. There was no blood relation.

Daniel took a deep breath, feeling irritated. Unconsciously, he found himself driving toward the suburban villa.

Upon arrival, he was taken aback. The area had developed significantly, featuring homestays, cafes, and unique

craft stores.

Did Maisie know that he had invested in these establishments one by one after her departure? He remembered her

desire for more people to visit for the breathtaking scenery.

Continuing to walk, he reached the house they once shared. The door stood ajar, and the cleaning staff respectfully

greeted him upon seeing him.

The leader of the group stood up promptly. "Mr. Quimby, why are you here? Is there something bothering you?"

"No," he replied. "Have them leave. I'd like to spend some time here."

The leader immediately grasped the situation, recognizing in Daniel's demeanor a reflection of his past. It was a

time when solitude was sought, free from any disruptions.

The leader ushered everyone out with a wave, ensuring they left the space.

Seated in the house, Daniel felt Maisie's lingering presence in every nook and cranny. The couch retained its

softness, the carpet's color remained vibrant, and the decorations were meticulously maintained.

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Yet, the kitchen lacked the warmth she once infused into it.

Maisie would prepare a table full of food in the past, anticipating his return. Even if he couldn't make it home for

dinner, she would pack it in a food container and send the meal to his office. She strictly forbade unhealthy eating

and excessive drinking.

Over time, he had grown accustomed to her influence, both in the realm of his actions and the nourishment of his

stomach. He believed he was the one enriching her life, but the reality was the reverse—she had spoiled him.

Sighing, he ascended the stairs to find a small bed in one of the rooms, adorned with spinnable toys that tinkled like

a baby's laughter in the breeze.

This room had been off-limits for years since Maisie's departure, but today marked his first entry.

He lingered in the room, gazing out the window with a distant look. Suddenly, his eyes fell upon a small tombstone

in the woods beyond the courtyard. His heart raced, prompting him to dash downstairs and head to the tombstone.