Monster Billionaire Husband, Let Me Go

Chapter 10: Piano and Truth

The study was so spacious that echoes could be heard.

The white grand piano by the floor-to-ceiling window gleamed softly, like a sleeping swan.

Percy Sullivan was different today.

His black suit accentuated his straight shoulders, and his bow tie was neatly fastened just below his Adam's apple.

I knew he only dressed this formally when he played the piano.

The setting sun streamed through the glass, casting a golden halo around him.

His lashes fluttered in the light, and his slender fingers danced across the keys.

Notes poured out like a babbling brook, filling the room.

I knew nothing about music, but that didn't stop me from being entranced.

The melody was like the overlapping waves of spring or the mist curling through mountain valleys.

It was impossible to say whether it was romantic or profound—only that it tugged gently at my heartstrings.

As the last note faded into the air, he looked up at me. "Did you like it?"

I nodded vigorously, my applause crisp in the empty study. "It was beautiful."

"It's just a draft." He gestured to the thick stack of sheet music on the piano. "Still needs work."

"Does it have a name?"

Percy's fingertips brushed lightly over the keys. "Not yet." He paused. "It's your birthday gift."

I froze.

I hadn't expected him to express himself this way.

Suddenly, he changed the subject, his voice feather-light. "Do you know how I got sick?"

Mr. Sullivan had told me it was due to a nanny's negligence.

But Percy shook his head. "It was my parents."

His fingers began trembling uncontrollably, as if the memory itself was tearing at his nerves.

I poured him a glass of warm water and handed it to him.

"I have to tell you," he said through gritted teeth. "The whole truth about me."

After a long silence, he finally spoke. "My father pursued my mother for four years before they married."

"Two years later, she found out he was seeing someone else."

"The first time, he begged on his knees for forgiveness. The second, the third... Then I saw it with my own eyes."

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his sleeve.

"My mother took me and left. He came begging for us to come back. But when we did, we found out he'd brought that woman with him—even when he came to see us."

"My mother was putting me to bed while he was with her... in the next room."

Percy's breathing grew ragged.

"Then one day, my mother suddenly said we were going on a family trip. In that unfamiliar city..."

"She stabbed him. He choked her..."

"I was locked on the balcony, pounding on the door..."

"When I woke up, neither of them was moving anymore."

I felt as if I'd been struck by lightning.

This was nothing like the tragic love story the Sullivans had told the world—the beautiful tale of lovers who died together.

Beneath it lay a truth drenched in blood.

Six-year-old Percy had been trapped in that night forever.

No wonder he feared unfamiliar places and shied away from intimacy.

All the pieces suddenly fell into place.

"Sophia." Slowly, he placed his hand over mine, warmth seeping through my skin.

"I'll take my medicine on time. I won't lose my temper."

"You can come into the study whenever you want."

"You can... hold my hand too."

His gaze was as clear as freshly fallen snow, as if he were offering me his whole heart.

The sunset stretched our shadows long across the floor.

His voice, mingling with the twilight, was unusually gentle. "Let's go on a trip together."

"Somewhere new. We'll come back in time for your birthday."

He unfolded a map, studying each city carefully.

As I watched the sky darken outside, I dialed Mr. Sullivan's number.

"He wants to go to Inner Mongolia?" The old man paused. "Has Nanny Helen finished the handover?"

I had less than a week left before I had to leave.

This trip would mean goodbye.

"Everything's arranged."

"Go, then." He sighed. "It's good that he's willing to travel."

Hanging up, I looked at Percy, who was still absorbed in planning the route.

He pointed to a patch of green on the map. "There's a grassland here."

Dusk had completely enveloped the study, and the last note from the piano seemed to linger faintly in the air.