CWMBR 101

Chapter 101

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Seeing Finn's cheerful smile, it felt as though he'd just made some lighthearted, amusing joke.

But his words moments before had carried an unsettling edge that made it impossible to laugh it off. Bridget couldn't bring herself to smile back, instead fidgeting with her innocent glass of water.

"Miss Donna came by a few days ago."

The moment he spoke, the waiter approached and began formally setting out the food. As the table filled with dishes that looked delicious just to look at, Bridget and Finn said nothing.

Seeing the two fall silent, the waiter seemed to sense the mood, quickly withdrew.

Only then did Finn speak again.

"She said the CEO is trying to have Miss Pennington committed to a mental hospital."

Bridget's eyelashes, which had been calmly lowered, fluttered slightly. But that was all. Seeing her lack of significant reaction, Finn narrowed his eyes. After observing her expression for a moment, he spoke in a light tone.

"I think the opposite might be possible."

Bridget, who had been looking down, paused. She quietly raised her eyes and asked calmly.

"To have my Uncle forcibly committed?"

"I'll help you."

He smiled meaningfully, as if aware Bridget had no connections in that area, and pulled out a document to show her.

"Miss Pennington, you just need to sign here."

The document he offered was placed carefully to the side, avoiding the set food plates. Bridget's gaze fixed on the paper.

A forced hospitalization consent form.

To Bridget, who had never even known such a thing existed, the words were utterly unfamiliar. Taking a quiet breath, she scanned the text. To summarize the long, convoluted explanation: ultimately, family consent was required to forcibly take someone away, and once consent was given, the family would not be held liable for any issues arising during the patient's transfer. It also warned that while the length of stay would be determined by the family's request, the patient would be discharged without prior notice if hospitalization fees remained unpaid.

"Well, without someone covering her back, Miss Donna wouldn't be able to run rampant like this. She wouldn't be able to pull off such outrageous stunts like before."

To clip Donna Green's wings, they'd start by getting rid of Ronan.

The sequence seemed logical enough, but Bridget found it hard to shake a nagging unease. From the start, she hadn't understood why Finn was going to such lengths. Even setting aside that the method he proposed was an extreme choice that provoked resistance.

Because he felt uneasy about Donna and wanted to stop her from acting?

"Maybe she'll just kneel before Miss Pennington on her own."

The more Finn spoke, the more puzzled Bridget became. The solution to avoiding entanglement with Donna was simple: Finn could just leave this place. Outside of Glynford, Donna was an actress with little influence and no significant activities. Of course, he might be angry about what Donna had done to him in the past...

Why did that man let go of Donna's hand in the first place? They were close enough to spend the night together. Unlike Ain and Bridget, it wasn't an accident that happened by chance; Finn and Donna had been quite involved before. Though Bridget hadn't witnessed their time together firsthand, she could tell from the atmosphere that they hadn't just met to talk.

Could one photo really cause such a rift?

Compared to Donna, Bridget and Finn hadn't even properly held hands. Bridget's attitude toward Finn was generally consistent, so he couldn't have been unaware of her feelings. Yet Finn reached out to her as if his relationship with Bridget were closer than the one with Donna.

What had caused him to change his attitude? It wasn't easy to guess, given how capriciously he'd always flip-flopped.

Bridget licked her lower lip, tore her gaze away from the documents, and looked at Finn.

"And after that?"

"Just live comfortably."

Finn answered with an expression that seemed to say, Why ask something so obvious?

"I read the paper. All the rumors were lies. I thought it was truly fortunate that the truth came out, even if it was late."

He smiled leisurely and picked up his cutlery.

"But just because the misunderstanding is cleared up doesn't mean a married couple suddenly becomes harmonious, does it?"

He stabbed his neglected steak deeply with his knife and continued in a light tone.

"Well, Miss Pennington, you might not know this, but in society, it's quite common to maintain a legal marriage while seeking emotional comfort elsewhere. It's not a bad choice. Surprisingly, this approach can actually help a marriage run smoothly."

A young playwright spreading rumors with all sorts of ladies in high society.

Bridget recalled the words she always used when dealing with the man before her.

"Since Lord Wise is such a busy man anyway, Miss Pennington might also find it beneficial to pursue various encounters for her own happiness."

He placed a bite-sized piece of steak into his mouth. Satisfied, he smiled, chewed the meat, and swallowed. After taking a sip of the accompanying wine, he looked at Bridget.

"I hear the Grand Theater has closed anyway."

"It's only temporarily closed."

"How do you plan to reopen the Grand Theater without any staff?"

Finn asked, genuinely curious. When Bridget remained silent, he feigned regret and offered advice.

"This isn't for me to say, but you seem too fixated on that building. Why not take this chance to travel and clear your head?"

He spoke gently and tenderly, as if this advice were solely for Bridget, then narrowed his eyes and smiled gracefully.

"It would be wonderful if I could join you."

Bridget stared intently at Finn, who was smiling warmly at her. She knew many people tried hard to earn that handsome, smooth man's smile, but that didn't apply to her. Instead, she felt his beaming face was like a mask of a smiling face. A mask that made it seem like he was always smiling, no matter what expression he was actually wearing inside.

Had she caught it from dealing with Ain, the chronic suspicion sufferer? She kept finding herself doubting the other person's true intentions. Bridget wasn't normally the type to dissect every detail and infer hidden meanings when talking to people.

"I'm very interested in Miss Pennington's abilities. That is, her writing skills."

In that moment, Bridget recalled something Finn had once said to her.

"It feels completely different. This is definitely going to work."

And Donna's voice, so confident after bringing Bridget's draft to Finn.

What significant role had her drafts played? But Bridget knew her own level. She didn't possess the extraordinary talent Finn spoke of. If she had, it would have shone long ago. She enjoyed writing, but her work wasn't of such a high caliber or groundbreaking content that it would stir up the entire realm of Alencia.

"Are you preparing for a new work these days?"

Instead of answering the invitation to travel together, Bridget changed the subject. Finn looked slightly disappointed. He had been gazing at her intently, but now he turned his attention back to his food and nodded coolly.

"Well, yes."

"It's amazing how quickly you publish new works. You participate in various gatherings and seem very active socially. I envy your talent, Mr. Emerson."

Of course, Ain had pointed out that news of new works was slow, but to Bridget, who had dabbled in writing herself, even clumsily, Finn's writing speed was remarkably fast. Considering the time needed to prepare a play for the stage, it meant the writing itself was prepared much earlier, making it seem even faster.

Finn responded to Bridget's praise with a somewhat indifferent smile.

"Miss Pennington, with just a little polishing, you have the talent to write fine works."

His expression was bored, as if he'd heard this kind of compliment countless times before. Bridget watched him quietly and spoke softly.

"You must be busy just writing your new work; I can't trouble you. "

"Don't you have some drafts you wrote earlier? Bring them over, and I'll take a look."

Finn was such a popular playwright that people often paid him just to review their work. For him to offer to look at something without any compensation was incredibly generous. Anyone serious about writing would be thrilled to hear that and rush to bring their work immediately.

Bridget slowly parted her lips, recalling the box stored in her writing room.

"I threw it away."