Benson
89

Chapter 89 The Shadow of the White Moonlight

This son seemed like a different person, and it made Henry so happy he couldn’t sleep at night.

“Marcus is very good,” Yvonne said, her voice tinged with both gentleness and firmness, as if proving something to Henry. She couldn’t deny that Marcus treated her very well.

“So, what do you see in him?” Henry asked, his eyes full of curiosity and a hint of probing, as if searching

for an answer.

Yvonne thought seriously for a moment before answering, “Marcus is good–looking, has a good family background, and he’s changing and Improving. His character is very pure. Most importantly, he treats me very well, and I enjoy being with him.” Her voice was low and firm, as if proving her choice was the right

one

Yvonne didn’t deny that being with Marcus allowed her to go out without having to think too much. Her words carried a hint of relaxation and ease, as if enjoying her time with Marcus.

When Marcus came downstairs, he heard her say that He walked happily towards her, “Yvonne, why did you come over?” His voice held a trace of surprise and expectation, as if he had been looking forward to her arrival.

“You didn’t answer my calls,” Yvonne said, her words carrying a hint of reproach and concern. In front of Henry, she was considerate and gave him face.

Marcus wasn’t a fool. He glanced at his father and said, “You entertain yourself, we’ll go talk.” Then he pulled Yvonne away. His voice was firm and decisive, showing his determination to Henry.

When they reached the small living room upstairs, Marcus said, “Don’t scold me. If I didn’t know, fine. But if I knew and did nothing, wouldn’t it be unfair to you?” His voice was filled with apology and concern, as if apologizing to Yvonne.

“I’m handling this myself,” Yvonne said, her nose feeling sore, as if enduring some kind of pain. Her voice was firm and strong, proving her determination to Marcus.

“I know… I know it’s wrong, and there’s no evidence left. This is all I can do,” Marcus explained, his hand tracing a helpless arc in the air before dropping to his side.

Yvonne looked at Marcus, her eyes shimmering with tears, ready to overflow at any moment.

His lips were tightly pressed, his expression complex, filled with gratitude and unease.

“Yvonne, don’t feel any psychological burden. I think if your family were here, they would make the same choice as me,” Marcus added, trying to ease Yvonne’s psychological pressure.

The wind outside gently swayed the branches, and the light inside cast their intertwined shadows.

Marcus scratched his head, avoiding Yvonne’s gaze, looking somewhat uneasy.

“Don’t worry, I’ve been careful. Nothing will happen. It’s just to teach Mary a lesson, so she won’t dare to bully you anymore.”

Hearing this, Yvonne let out a deep, muffled “Okay.” Her voice was low and powerful, a long–repressed emotion finally replaceing an outlet.

Unconsciously, Marcus’s previous words echoed in her He had once said softly, “Don’t be afraid,

I’m here. Those words were like a warm current, comforting Yvonne’s anxious Heart.

They sat for a while longer. Once Yvonne’s emotions settled, they began discussing other light tonics trying to temporarily put Mary’s matter aside.

Chappee The Shadow of the White Moonlight

23

Time passed quietly, and the sunlight gradually moved across the room.

In the evening. Marcus invited Yvonne to stay for dinner. especially since his father, Henry, was cooking.

un sald

it was an invitation hard to refuse,

As Marcus watched the night slowly descend outside the window, a satisfied smile appeared on his lips.

He didn’t tell Yvonne the whole story–because of Benson’s passive attitude, he could no longer stand by and watch Mary bully Yvonne day after day. He decided to take action himself and teach Mary a lesson.

But he chose to remain silent, not wanting Yvonne to feel guilty or sad because of it.

After dinner, in the warm living room, the soft yellow light cast gentle shadows. Marcus and Yvonne sat on the comfortable sofa, their conversation light and pleasant.

Henry occasionally joined in, keeping the atmosphere lively. They talked about recent cultural events in the city and hiking plans, their laughter echoing through the house.

As time ticked away, the clock hands pointed to ten. Yvonne stood up, lightly brushing the wrinkles from her clothes, and looked deeply at Marcus, her eyes showing a hint of gratitude.

“Thank you so much for tonight. I had a wonderful time,” she said sincerely, this rare warmth bringing her great comfort.

“We’re also very glad to spend this time with you, Yvonne, Marcus stood up, his gaze firm and sincere.

Remember, you are never alone.” This sentence warmed Yvonne’s heart.

As the door gently closed behind her, Yvonne stepped out of Marcus’s house. The night was dark, and the

stars were sparse.

But her heart was bright, knowing that in this city, there was someone she could rely on as a safe harbor

Benson sat on the sofa, holding a well–worn novel with curled page edges.

The soft and elegant light inside made for a quiet reading time, abruptly interrupted by unexpected news.

His expression changed from content to displeased, his brows furrowing.

Since his relationship with Yvonne deteriorated, Yvonne decided to move back to her apartment.

In the guest room where they had once lived together a few of Yvonne’s casually left clothes became a glaring reminder.

“Couldn’t she wait until the divorce?” Benson muttered his tone full of dissatisfaction and questions, feeling offended by her actions.

At that moment, George approached Benson, awkwardly saying, “She and Marcus aren’t anything, right? Didn’t you also not wait until the divorce with Mary…” His voice trailed off as a cold, harsh glare from Benson silenced him instantly, killing any further courage to speak

Benson angrily closed the book, his fingers gripping the spine tightly, his brow deeply furrowed, looking extremely fatigued. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, then slowly stood up and walked towards the stairs. With each step, his mind raced, searching for a viable solution.

In the bedroom, he opened a small wooden box, inside which lay a delicate pendant, a memento from a trip they had taken together years ago. The pendant shimmered with a subtle silver light, still carrying the joy and laughter of that time.

Seeing it, Benson’s expression softened slightly.

He took the pendant downstairs and handed it to George, his tone heavy but hopeful, “Hang this pendant

Chassé The Shadow of the Vetsite Moonlight

outside.”

3/3

George was momentarily confused, looking up in bewilderment, “Huh?” His expression was like a puzzled child, not understanding.

“We can’t entirely rely on Mary, can we?” Benson said deeply, offering no further explanation. But the observant George read a mix of strategy and resignation in his boss’s eyes.

“Okay.” George finally nodded in agreement. He began to understand his boss’s choice and deeply grasped the complex emotions Benson was experiencing.

Despite Yvonne’s sunny personality and captivating warmth comforting many, Benson knew that deep inside, Yvonne’s influence couldn’t surpass the long–standing and profound impact of his white moonlight.