?Chapter 1071:


    Z peeked over and gasped in delight. “It’s beautiful! Mr. Burke will love it for sure.”


    Yvonne beamed. A bit of hope lit her chest again.


    Carrying the fruit te in both hands, she made her way upstairs. Norton’s bedroom door was shut tight. She paused in front of it, drew a quiet breath, and knocked softly.


    “Mr. Burke?” she called, her tone yful. “Your humble servant hase to cheer you up.”


    She leaned in slightly, trying tofort him through the door. “Come on, Norton… don’t be mad. Can’t you forgive me? Open the door—let’s talk, just for a minute.”


    Yvonne knocked again and again, a bit louder each time. Still, there was no answer.


    She stood outside Norton’s door, the fruit te cradled carefully in her hands, waiting. But there was no answer.


    Inside, Norton sat at his desk, head leaning on his hand, eyes closed, brow furrowed in a weary frown.


    A faint voice tugged at the edge of his consciousness. He opened his eyes, unsure if he’d heard something real or just his imagination. Had that been Yvonne?


    He rubbed his temples. He hadn’t had proper rest in days—no wonder he was hearing things. He’d even nodded off over his paperwork earlier.


    And Yvonne… she always knew how to push his buttons. As if the argument during the day wasn’t enough, now she was haunting his dreams, too.


    Norton sighed. It must’ve been a dream. There’s no way she’d speak to him so gently, not the way she did with Ethan.


    Norton stared down at the stack of documents on his desk, but the words blurred. The frustration was still there, simmering beneath his exhaustion. Finally, he pushed everything aside and dragged himself to bed.


    Outside his door, Yvonne waited, holding the fruit te, her hope slowly deting. She’d said so much… and yet, not a single response. Her shoulders sank. He must still be angry.


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    She checked the time—it was alreadyte. Work awaited her tomorrow. Maybe she’d have to make it up to him another day.


    She looked down at the fruit she’d carefully carved into heart shapes. Strawberries, watermelon—all her favorites. But for once, they stirred no appetite.


    She turned and quietly carried the te back downstairs.


    “Z, you can have this,” she said, her voice subdued. “I’m going to bed.”


    Z took the te and watched as Yvonne’s figure disappeared up the stairs, shoulders heavy with disappointment.


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