Chapter 1501: Only Love is the Most Attractive
Tristan gazed at the small snowman bathed in warm yellow light, his voice gentle. "The brightness is
fine, everyone has worked hard. We need to maintain this tomorrow, check everything carefully, we
cannot afford any mistakes."
"Alright, rest assured, everything is progressing according to your plan."
Tristan handed them the design drawings.
He looked around, reminding, "We also need to hang lights on these trees. We should make good use
of the romantic atmosphere, so try not to knock the snow off the branches."
"Alright, Mr. Norwell."
"Thank you, everyone." Tristan gratefully glanced at all the people busily working on the scene, then
turned and left with peace of mind.
Choosing this place for his confession was the result of his long deliberation. This was the most
suitable location.
Just as he sat in the driver's seat, Tristan took out his phone and saw that Jennifer had sent him a
message on Facebook.
She had sent him a draft. Tristan was delighted; it was exactly what he wanted-identical to what he had
purchased in the boutique that day!
However, this time he had to inlay a real diamond, to upgrade its class and make this headband more
meaningful.
Yes, Tristan decided to make a romantic confession tomorrow night.
He knew Monica would worry about Claire to some extent, so he decided to put in some effort to
reassure her, to let her know that she was special.
But for Tristan, Claire had already become a thing of the past.
Nighttime.
Inside Algerone's idle small western-style building, the heating system was very effective, making the
indoor environment and the snowy kingdom outside seem like two different worlds.
Monica had just finished bathing, wearing a nightgown and emanating a sweet fragrance from her
shower.
She was humming a song with a joyful mood.
Standing in front of her bed, she reached out and stroked the tall transparent cylindrical plush doll
storage box.
She couldn't help but recall the moment when Tristan held her hand to grab the doll. The electrifying
happiness was irreplaceable by anything else.
And the five-pointed star headband he bought for her, although it was cheap, it was priceless in her noveldrama
eyes.
So she had treasured it, even feeling reluctant to wear it on her head.
Perhaps, she was already in love with Tristan.
This was the feeling of loving someone, a bit fearful of gaining and losing, being cautious, regardless of
whether she could get him or not.
Even if he didn't love her, Monica was willing to drown in this one-way rush of love. Being good friends
with him was also a kind of happiness.
But Tristan once saved her without regard for his own safety, maybe... maybe he also liked her?
In the living room downstairs.
Belinda stood alone by the window, gazing at the snowy scenery outside under the light of the yard
lamp, not knowing what she was expecting.
The scene of Algerone eating noodles here kept flashing in her mind, making her inexplicably
melancholic and somewhat depressed.
On the same night, Algerone Swain was in his yard, caring for his carefully nurtured roses, especially
worried that they would freeze to death.
But why was he doing this?
When he remembered the man who drove Belinda home, and how he took off his coat to drape it over
her, Algerone Swain felt a suffocating discomfort in his heart.
As he was struggling with his melancholy, his phone rang.
Brushing the snow off his hands, Algerone Swain took out his phone from his pocket, glanced at the
caller ID, and answered, "Hello."
"Mr. Swain, the person you asked me to investigate has been located. His name is Jack Adams."
Algerone Swain listened attentively as the other person said-
"He's Mr. Adams from a welfare home in the southern suburbs, who has adopted eleven homeless
children. He is currently single, and had been married a long time ago. More detailed information has
been sent to your email."
Single?
"Alright." Algerone Swain's mood suddenly worsened, once again feeling that this guy was a formidable
rival.
After hanging up the phone, with a stern face, he stepped towards the house.
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