The lost Heir Of The Hawthorne Consortium

breakfast in bed

Ferdinand stepped out of the company gates, his heart pounding with determination.

He had to find Anabel, to make things right, to unravel the knots of misunderstanding that had grown between them.

The evening was transitioning into night, casting long shadows across the concrete paths as Ferdinand hurried along.

Ferdinand reached Anabel's house, a quaint abode with a welcoming glow emanating from its windows. He settled down on the steps, waiting patiently for her return.

Hours passed, the darkness deepened, and finally, the distant hum of a car approached.

A taxi pulled up, and a figure stumbled out, supported by the driver. It was Anabel, her usually vibrant demeanor now clouded by the haze of alcohol.

Anabel's eyes widened in surprise as she noticed Ferdinand waiting for her. Confusion flickered across her face as she queried, "Ferdinand, what are you doing here?"

Ferdinand rose to his feet, his expression earnest. "I came to apologize, Anabel. Please, just hear me out."

Anabel