FreeNovel
y Stu
Chapter 839
Yuvan nodded and sighed. “To be honest, I would never agree to seduce someone if it were not for Grandpa.
Imagine what people will say if they discover that a successful man like me did something so underhanded—I would
be a laughingstock. I could be permanently blacklisted, Genevieve,” he said coldly.
“I know I'm asking a lot,” Genevieve said, pouring him a glass of warm water. “I promise I'll make it up to you. I can
always come and accompany your grandpa if he's not in a good mood.”
The suggestion appeased Yuvan, and he took the glass from her.
Genevieve then turned to leave since they were done talking, but Yuvan commented in surprise from behind her,
“Ms. Rachford, a young lady like you do have quite a bit of white hair, don't you?”
Then, Genevieve felt a slight pain on her scalp as if someone had just pulled her hair.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt“Oh! I'm sorry,” Yuvan apologized nervously. “It just peeves me to see someone having white hair. I didn't mean to
pull it off.”
Genevieve looked over at the hair in his hand and waved dismissively. “Don't worry about it. It's just a strand of
white hair.”
After she left the pantry, Yuvan observed the hair to ensure it had its hair follicle intact before putting it in a bag.
On the third morning, Genevieve went to Herbert's study after breakfast.
Beams of sunlight were streaming into the room through the window when she entered, which lit up the spacious
room. On the two sides of the study were two shelves with glass doors housing all the collections of the old man's
ancient books and manuscripts.
Going over to take a look, Genevieve realized that although some of the books were published in the early years of
the past century, they were all well-preserved.
“Do you mind if I open the shelf and have a look, Old Mr. Zeigler?” Genevieve inquired.
“No, go ahead,” Herbert replied with a smile. “Pick a book and read it to me.”
Genevieve agreed and opened the shelf carefully.
Since Harriet used to be a translator, she left behind many notes she had made while learning foreign languages.
Soon enough, Genevieve found herself engrossed in Harriet's remarkable and exciting notes.
“Your wife must've been amazing,” she noted in amazement. “I guess that's why she was a translator at the
Department of Foreign Affairs.”
Herbert looked up with pride on his face. “You're right. She was a talented woman, and she had many pursuers
when she was young. Had we not been childhood sweethearts, and had I wasn't so persistent, I wouldn't have
married her.”
Genevieve laughed.
She perused the books to pick a suitable one but suddenly found a photo album hidden among the books.
Taking it out, she flipped through it, only to find a few photographs in the inset. There were intimate photos of a
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmyoung couple and some portraits of a beautiful woman.
“Old Mr. Zeigler,” Genevieve uttered, passing him the album, “are these you and your wife?”
The general's face lit up in surprise when he saw the photo album.
He touched the young woman in the picture, and his eyes welled up with tears. “You found it. I was so disheartened
because I thought I had lost these photos after searching every nook and cranny of the house, but it turns out it's
right in this study. These were taken when we were young during the tumultuous period of war in the country. We
didn't manage to take a lot of photos because we were so busy.”
Herbert's eyes glimmered with nostalgia and love as he gazed at the woman in the photo.
After a long moment, Herbert flipped the page and looked at another photo of a small girl. “This is my daughter,
Juliana. I wouldn't have lost her if I were a more attentive father. Harriet wouldn't have died so early if we still had
Juliana.”
Genevieve was aware that the loss of their second daughter had grieved the family, so she stayed silent and patted
Herbert's back to comfort him.
Looking down, she stared at the photo in Herbert's hand.
The girl was sitting on a swing, smiling sweetly at the camera. She had chubby cheeks, and her hair was in pigtails.
Although her forehead was clear and smooth, there was still a faint scar on it.
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