Love's Bitter Edge (Eva and Leonard) novel Chapter 225

Chapter 225 Mimicry 

During my recovery, plenty of colleagues came to visit. Some genuinely cared about my health, others were just showing respect, and quite a few were simply there for gossip. 

Finally, Julian, with his perpetual poker face, kicked everyone out. 

“The patient is weak. If anyone upsets her and she dies from the stress, this hospital isn’t taking the blame. If you want to go to jail, be my guest.” 

That single sentence sent the nosy ones packing. I couldn’t help but give him a look of exasperation. 

“Die from stress? Can’t you say something nicer?” 

“Wouldn’t dying from stress be better than getting driven insane?” he shot back with a cold glance before leaving the room. 

With the visitors gone, my days became a bit more peaceful. 

Still, even from my hospital bed, I couldn’t escape the barrage of news on the internet. 

Leonard had firmly secured his spot as the biggest scumbag. 

Even when Amelia tried to leak that video of him declaring the baby wasn’t his, it barely made a ripple. 

No one believed him. 

And honestly, I realized I photographed pretty well. Especially the shot of me lying on the floor at the press conference had an oddly beautiful, almost ethereal quality to it. 

I read comments saying I looked fragile, like I was about to break. They didn’t know I’d been broken for a long time. 

Sympathy was firmly in my court, and few came to Leonard’s defense. 

When someone occasionally remarked that Leonard might have suffered by marrying 

someone he didn’t love, they were quickly drowned out by insults. 

People always sympathized with the underdog, and I was the underdog then. Who wouldn’t pity me? 

Then Leonard managed to stir up outrage again, just three days into my hospital stay. This time, it was because he’d taken Amelia shopping at a luxury boutique, dropping over 100 thousand dollars. 

The smiles on their faces were contagious–Amelia beamed, the sales assistants beamed, and even the gossip journalists had reason to be happy. 

One sales assistant who gave an interview, albeit with her voice altered and face blurred, recounted the scene with gleeful detail. 

“He used to bring in his secretary here–the one who got shot by the police and the one who kidnapped his wife. 

“Every time, he’d spend 30 to 50 thousand dollars without blinking. Meanwhile, I heard his wife didn’t even have money to pay off her medical bills. 

“The new woman is even worse, She’s all high and mighty. She won’t even look at anything under 10 thousand. And his wife’s in the hospital after a miscarriage! His behavior disgusts me. 

Though her identity was obscured, the uniform and the specific details of the items Leonard had bought for Amelia left no doubt about the truth of her story. 

What hit me the hardest wasn’t the interview but the things he had bought. 

newer 

The classic brand was my favorite–so much so that I never bothered with its releases. The designs were subtle and refined and always carried a touch of novelty. 

Amelia used to dismiss the brand as predictable and boring. Her wardrobe didn’t feature any of their clothes even after returning from abroad. 

But suddenly, she was wearing the brand, buying everything I loved. 

Leonard, of course, didn’t see anything strange about it. He even picked out a few white bags for her just like the ones I used to carry. 

He didn’t know Amelia hated white bags, always complaining they got dirty too easily. 

But he knew I loved white. 

They went with everything and brightened up any outfit. My closet had always been full of them. 

I turned off my phone, feeling the heaviness settle in my chest. 

Amelia wasn’t just replacing me; she was mimicking me–right down to my style and preferences. 

Only her personality remained different, though even that seemed to slip unnoticed in Leonard’s eyes. 

Something flickered in the back of my mind, a thought I couldn’t quite grasp. I shot out of bed and went straight to Julian’s office, where he was still working late. 

“What now? Did the twin reapers come knocking on your door?” 

He looked up, mid–sip from a cup of coffee, his face set in its usual grim expression. 

I shook my head quickly. “I need to ask you something. Is it really possible to hypnotize. someone? You know, like they do in movies?”