Chapter 198
Dorian tried calling Lila, but no one answered.
Hearing the endless ring, his bitter smile deepened. Of course, she wouldn’t pick up his calls anymore.
He stumbled out of bed with his fever-clouded mind and drove straight to Magi Pictures. His erratic driving almost caused a few rear-end collisions along the way.
It was rush hour, and typically cautious about being recognized, Dorian didn’t even bother with his usual mask. He stood there in plain view outside the building, his presence drawing curious glances from passersby.
“Why is Dorian here?”
“Do you think he’s here to confront Michael? Maybe he’s so mad he’s planning to fight him.”
“Look at his face he’s furious. But come on, fighting? That’s a crime. His reputation will take an even bigger hit if he gets arrested.”
People steered clear of him like he was trouble.
Lila stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby, immediately spotting him. His face was flushed from the fever, and his lips were pale.
He looked sick, but her expression remained indifferent. She intended to walk past him like everyone else.
“Lila,” Dorian called, his gaze fixed on her.
She didn’t stop and kept walking.
“Lila,” he called again, hurrying after her and grabbing her wrist.
His hand was unnaturally warm, making her frown. He was clearly unwell.
She yanked her wrist free. “Mr. Blake, please mind yourself.”
Her coldness made his eyes dim with disappointment. She did not even have a word of concern for his illness.
For the first time, Dorian spoke without his usual arrogance, his voice soft and pitiful, like a child who had lost his way. “Lila, I was wrong,” he said, head bowed.
Lila stood there, unmoving.
“Mrs. Foster was right-I was blind to everything you did for me. Only now do I realize how important you were to me. Lila, come back to me. I truly love you. I can’t live without you.”
Dorian reached out to her, but Lila stepped back, avoiding his touch.
His eyes reddened, whether from fever or regret, and his vulnerable appearance might once have moved her to take on all his pain as her own.
However, she felt nothing. Dorian no longer mattered to her.
Seeing his outstretched hand, she raised her eyes to meet his.
“Dorian,” she began calmly, “you say you regret what you’ve done because you love me. That’s why you want me back in your life. Is that right?”
“Of course. I love you,” he replied quickly.
Lila shook her head, a faint, mocking smile on her lips. “You’re wrong. You don’t love me. You miss how I used to clean up all your messes and make your life smooth and easy.”
“I miss those days because you were with me. Lila, I really do love you,” he pleaded.
But she only shook her head again. “You don’t understand love anymore. Love is about support, compassion, and a constant sense of giving more than you receive.
“You say you love me, but all you want is for me to come back and play the role of ‘your Lila.’ Like a trinket, you can pull it out when you need it and forget about it when you don’t. That’s your truth.”
Her voice was steady, devoid of sadness or anger.
“That’s not true,” Dorian blurted, desperate to deny it. “It’s not like that. I’ll support whatever you want to do. Do you want to be a director? I’ll back you all the way-I told you that before.”
He reached for her wrist again, this time gripping it lightly, afraid she’d run but also
mindful of her earlier words about love being tender.
“Lila, please believe me. Come back
to me. I’ll support you in whatever you want. I’ll listen to you, I swear. And if you don’t like Zara, I promise she’ll never show up in your life again. Isn’t that what you wanted?”