Reborn From Oblivion

Greta was growing impatient, waiting for Nathan's reply. Figuring he hadn't seen her messages, she decided to stick to the old adage: "If it's important, repeat it again and again," and sent her message two more times.

Meanwhile, Nathan, annoyed by the constant ding of notifications, finally picked up his phone to block the unknown number. Just before doing so, his eyes caught a glimpse of a crucial part of the message: [Lately, my sister and my husband have completely ignored boundaries, and it's driving me crazy, making my old illness flare up...]

Nathan quietly set the phone aside. His strikingly handsome face hid in the shadows, and his dark eyes gleamed like a predator ready to pounce, full of wild intensity.

This was Nathan's unhappy state, and his most genuine one.

"Nathalie, you shouldn't be like this," he murmured to himself.

There are so many beautiful things in life, yet Nathalie seemed stuck in the past, unable to let go of her grudges.

He let out a soft sigh, "Oh well, there's always tomorrow," trying to reassure himself.

One day...

Two days...

Three days...

And still, Greta heard nothing from Nathan.

She finally got it-to Nathan, she was invisible, a nobody. For the first time, she felt what it was like to be disregarded, and it stung, filling her with shame. She felt a strange kind of anger.

"Nathan, I gave you a chance, and you wasted it. So don't blame me for playing hardball now." With that, she turned to Cameron, sending him a barrage of embellished messages. [Cameron, my dad's in trouble. He accidentally hurt Mr. Nathan and got arrested.

[I begged Mr. Nathan three times, but he just ignored me. I'm really at my wit's end, so I had to reach out to you for help.

[Cameron, I can't be without my dad. You know I'm not in great health and need him around.

[It's all Nathalie's fault. She provoked my dad on purpose. That's why he lost control and accidentally injured Mr. Nathan.]

...NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.

Cameron was having a long, exhausting day.

The show's schedule was packed,

and even though they were rich heirs, they were still on the fringes of their families. The production team was polite but driven by the bottom line.

en

Cameron felt the bitter taste of falling from grace.

Late that night, Cameron dragged himself back to his room, ready to collapse into bed. As he lay there, sleep started to pull him under, but his phone buzzed annoyingly. With a frown, he fished his phone out from under the pillow, groggily unlocking it to find over 99 messages from Greta. Instead of feeling worried, he just felt irritated. He tossed his phone aside.

He let himself get some decent sleep. It wasn't until the next morning, after waking up, that he reluctantly skimmed through a few of the messages.

Then he shot back a reply to Greta:

[The schedule's super tight right now. I'm basically a zombie during the day. If there's something urgent, just leave a message. You don't have to keep calling or sending the same thing over and over ]

No sooner had he sent it than Greta replied instantly: [Cameron, are you mad at me for bothering you? It's just that my dad's in trouble, and I'm desperate, so I turned to you.] Just then, the production crew started calling out. "All guests, please gather in the lobby."

Cameron quickly texted back: [We'll sort this out when I'm back.]

His words were curt, with a hint of indifference.

Greta felt tears welling up as she read his reply. She could sense his exhaustion, but her own situation was no walk in the park, either. Swallowing her pride, she sent another message: [Cameron, can you help me pay my medical bills?]