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His Can Ring Promise Novel Cover

His Can Ring Promise

On their seventh anniversary, Christopher Quinton offers Queenie Dean a soda tab instead of a ring, while secretly buying his ex, Rachel, a mansion. After Queenie refuses the insult, Christopher brands her a gold digger and fires her from her VP position. Five years later, the billionaire crosses paths with Queenie at a charity event. While he flaunts his wealth with Rachel, Queenie appears to be a lowly scavenger, though she is actually just assisting her son with a school project.
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Chapter 4

Mockery

"You're generous, Mr. Quinton. Six thousand is enough to last her a year." Then, they turned to me. "Oh, um, what's your name again? Our legs are killing us here, and our throats too. Get us some water, will you?"

I laughed mirthlessly. They wanted me to serve them? Just when I finally got some precious days off to spend with my husband? They could die in a ditch for all I cared.

I smacked the card away and snapped angrily, "Get your head checked. You probably got hit on the head too much as a kid, and now it's coming back to bite you."

My continued refusal irritated Christopher, and his face fell. Rachel quickly stepped in to calm him down.

Scoffing, she said, "Gratitude doesn't exist in her world, Chris. If she was ever grateful for you, she'd never have stolen your company's most important techniques." She turned to me. "Should I jog your memory? You told us someone tailed you and took away the technique, but right after you quit, our competitor released a new project. It was supposed to be ours."

That did bring up some memories. It was a damp alleyway, and the ground was little better than mud. I could still feel their hands crawling across my body.

"Excuse me, they told us to create an accident and cripple her, not…"

"Ah, who cares? Her lover's not trying to stop us, so why should we be gentlemen?"

All the color was gone from my face.

My silence excited Rachel. "I think this whole encounter is a setup you came up with."

I loudly interrupted her and clenched my fists. "You'd better be ready for the consequences of your words, Rachel. Slander can land you in jail. Another lie out of that mouth of yours, and you'll hear from my lawyer."

My aura was too powerful, and Rachel turned her eyes away. She tugged on Christopher's sleeve. "We should leave, Chris. Don't waste our time with women like her."

Christopher's eyes lingered on me. They refused to move away.

The tension was getting taut, and someone summoned the manager.

"The Halloways' head adores his wife. He hates women who try to climb their way into our circle. Get her out of here, now!"

I was starting to breathe heavily. Yes, that night. That night was a nightmare I could never forget. With trembling hands, I took out my smartwatch. I needed to call my husband. He must send some guys to look for our son.

And then, paper stars fell out of my pocket. That stunned me, and they reminded me of the things my son said to me when he was making these stars.

"I kept my birthday wish in these stars, Mom. Keep them safe for me."

I bent over and picked up the stars, but Christopher stepped on them. With a trembling voice, he said, "What's the point of keeping these now, Queenie? It's too late."

His shoe stepped on my fingertips. The pain shot up my arm, and I pulled it back. I thought, 'Hey, my son made those stars! What's it got to do with you?'

Then, I met his eyes and noticed the tangled emotions within. Another memory came to the surface of my mind.

Christopher spent most of his life hopelessly in love with Rachel, but she broke up with him out of nowhere. The trauma left him scared of love. Every time he had to face it, he was always insecure.

That broke my heart, so I proposed to him.

"I'll prove my love to you, Christopher. If you're happy with something I do, give me a star. When you fill up a whole mason jar with paper stars, you'll be the one to propose to me."

He held the jar and cried tears of joy like a child who'd gotten the best birthday present of his life. He wouldn't stop making promises, both to me and himself.

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