The President's Accidental Wife

Chapter 60

In the room.

As she sat and rested on her bed, her mind was racing with thoughts of the news reported. When she

caught a glimpse of the man on the sofa, her gaze and attention lingered on him.

As he was looking through some work documents, the sleeves of his sweater were folded up, showing

his toned and muscular arms. His eyes were squinting slightly as he read; he wrote meticulously with a

pen i n his left hand.

'We've been together for quite some time, but I've only noticed that he's a leftie,' she thought while

admiring him unconsciously.

"How long are you going to stare, Mrs. Valentine?” He asked as he kept his head down, only lifting his

brows.

Embarrassed that she was caught red-handed, she gave a slight cough as she changed the topic, "I

think there's something strange regarding what happened today—the news about me, I mean."

"Go on," he replied with a slightly higher pitch, signaling her to continue her speculations.

"I think this was someone's set up to defame me, and I have a feeling that person is someone close to

me,"

Summer explained.

She believed that a stranger would not harm her out of the blue.

Judging from the photos and videos leaked to the press, she was certain that the person who set her

up was someone she knew. 'How else could they retrieve those pictures of me?' She reasoned in her Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

head.

Suddenly, she hit her leg as she thought she had it figured out. She guessed, "Could it be Mrs. Frey?"

He looked up from reading and into her eyes for a moment before asking, "For what reason?"

"Well, it could be because she was furious with me. In the two occurrences that she came and visited

Mr. Frey at school, she had seen him buying coffee for me coincidentally. So, she probably hired

someone to follow me and took those pictures and videos sent to the publishers. After reasoning from

everything that has happened before, I think this is the best possible motive of all."

With lips curled into a faint smile and as if speaking from experience, Mark replied knowingly,"

Sometimes, what you think is the most reasonable may not even be any close to the truth."

Although he was somewhat indirect, she knew that they were not on the same page. So, she asked,

"Then, who do you think could be the culprit?'

"The results from the investigations will be out tomorrow," he simply stated before picking up the pen

again.

Rolling her eyes at him, she knew that was a sign that he was not going to continue the discussion any

further.

She lay on the bed, feeling exhausted from a long and rough day. Closing her eyes, she sulkily but

softly bid him goodnight.

"Good night, Mr. Valentine."

Her voice was as soft as a down feather. With his deep voice, he bid as he glanced at her willowy

figure.

After a long while, it was silent with only their soft sounds of breathing in the room.

With steady breaths and light snores, Summer was deep asleep on the bed.

Putting down his pen, with his slender fingers, Mark pressed on his temples as he lightly massaged

them. Following after, he stood up and went to look out the window.

The night was dark with snow falling heavily, and every surface the snow touched was coated with

white.

Just like the night sky, his eyes were dark, and they looked like a pair of bottomless black pools.

Later, he took out a cigarette and lit it up. Smoke wafted around him as it drifted upwards and away. H

e looked alluring with his left eye half-squinted from the smoke.

"Raine..."

After holding it in for so long, he finally muttered her name as it faded away into the dark.

His mind felt as if it was shrouded in a dark mist that no one could ever see through and figure out.

The next morning.

Opening her eyes, Summer turned and grabbed her phone on the nightstand to check the time. It was

7:00 am.

The other side of the bed was empty, and it felt cold to the touch. 'He has left for quite a while, I see,’

she thought to herself.

After giving a little stretch, she got up from bed. The pain in her abdomen had subsided, and she felt

much better compared to the day before.

Just as she stepped out from the washroom after cleaning up, the door was pushed open, and a man

dressed in regular sportswear came into the room.

"Good Morning, Mr. Valentine,” she greeted as her eyes crinkled into a smile.