bookbashuk Page 219
Page 219
The doorbell kept ringing, letting in gusts of cold air and even more laughter.
Frankie's two children—seven-year-old Tom and five-year-old Jessica—couldn't contain their excitement, circling around the Christmas tree, their eyes constantly glancing at the mountain of beautifully wrapped gifts piled up beneath it.
After receiving permission from the adults, they cheered and rushed over, eagerly starting to dismantle the toys.
The sounds of tearing open wrappers, the joyful cheers upon seeing gifts, and the excited shouts of showing off new toys to parents filled the air.
Tom got the Lego Star Trek adventure set he'd always dreamed of, while Emily clung to a blonde, blue-eyed doll that was almost as tall as her.
Ethan, one of the younger members of the family, brought his new girlfriend, Sarah, who is white.
The girl looked a little shy, her nose slightly red from the cold, and she clung tightly to Ethan, but her face was always radiant with undisguised happiness.
Her family greeted her warmly and asked her some lighthearted questions, while Ethan held her hand the whole time and occasionally gave her an encouraging look.
Old Joe smiled and handed her a glass of mulled wine: "Have some to warm yourself up, and make yourself at home."
The most attention-grabbing couple was undoubtedly Michael and his wife, Liz Chan.
Liz was nearly eight months pregnant, her belly was very large, and she had some difficulty moving around.
Michael carefully supported her every step of the way, his every movement filled with tenderness.
They sat on the most comfortable sofa by the fireplace, surrounded by the kind blessings and expectations of their relatives and friends.
The joy of becoming parents soon enveloped them like a soft halo, touching everyone present.
Several female relatives sat around Liz, quietly exchanging parenting tips and occasionally letting out knowing laughter.
Old Joe, as the head of the family and the host of this gathering, was in high spirits and had a ruddy complexion.
He was wearing a red Christmas sweater, which added to the festive atmosphere.
He was surrounded by several Chinese business partners and old friends, all raising their glasses, which were filled with whiskey or red wine.
They talked about relatively easy market trends and reminisced about the fun times in the early days of their business, but the majority of their conversations revolved around family, children, and health. The atmosphere was warm and friendly, with a mix of Chinese and English.
And Victor was undoubtedly the most dazzling center of attention at this family feast.
He wore a well-tailored dark cashmere sweater, his posture upright, and a successful confidence that blended seamlessly with the warmth of family camaraderie.
People kept raising their glasses to him, congratulating him on his great business success this year and praising the glory he had brought to the family.
He responded to every act of kindness with ease, his smile perfectly balanced, neither overly arrogant nor lacking in self-worth.
He saw his four-year-old cousin Karen wobbling as she tried to reach the stars at the top of the tree, so he strode over and easily picked her up.
The little girl let out a string of silvery giggles, wrapped her arms trustingly around his neck, and pointed to the stars in her soft, sweet voice: "Brother Victor, bright!"
Viktor lifted her up so she could touch the twinkling star, and at that moment, a pure, carefree smile appeared on his face.
The lights and firelight illuminated him and the child in his arms, surrounded by the laughter and conversation of relatives and friends, creating a perfect and heartwarming picture of family reunion.
He seemed to have completely blended into this warmth, becoming that successful man, a respected brother, uncle, and nephew.
Chapter 185 Lively and Quiet
The wave of revelry always eventually subsides.
As night deepened, the children were the first to give up.
Jessica fell into a deep sleep in her mother's arms, clutching her new baby, while Tom began to rub his eyes.
The adults' voices gradually lowered, turning from heated discussions into quiet chatter in twos and threes.
The warm air, abundant food, and fine wine make one feel lazy and content.
Victor held Karen, who was already fast asleep, and gently placed her on the sofa in the corner, covering her with a soft blanket.
Instead of returning to the crowd, he sat down on a single sofa nearby.
The living room was still warm and bright, and the fire in the fireplace was a little smaller, but it was still burning steadily.
The Christmas tree lights flickered in a cycle, casting shimmering points of light in his deep eyes.
He looked at everything before him:
Michael was listening tenderly to Liz as she spoke, his hand gently stroking her abdomen;
Ethan and Sarah leaned their heads together, sharing something amusing, their smiles shy yet sweet;
The Frankies tidied up the wrapping paper scattered on the floor by the children, occasionally exchanging a smile.
Old Joe and his old friends were still enjoying their wine, their faces slightly tipsy with contentment, talking about things from much earlier times...
Everything is great, absolutely perfect.
Warmth, happiness, and peace.
However, a strange sense of detachment crept in silently at that moment.
He sat there, surrounded by this warm and bustling atmosphere, yet felt as if he were separated from it by an invisible, cold pane of glass.
He could see their joy, hear their laughter, and even feel their warmth, but it couldn't truly penetrate their hearts.
His world is on the other side of the glass wall.
It was the fierce collision of sweat, blood, and adrenaline in the boxing ring; it was the silent battle, precise calculations, and ruthless decisions in the conference room; it was the vast digital empire built by money and power, where every step was like walking on thin ice, and every victory was accompanied by greater pressure and a more complex situation.
The rules there are completely different from the simple and pure world before us, filled with everyday life, the warmth between husband and wife, and the laughter of children.
These are things he was once familiar with, but now feel somewhat distant from.
He temporarily possessed enviable success, enough to buy countless villas like this and host even more luxurious banquets, but at this moment, this trivial yet real sense of happiness seemed to be the only thing he could not obtain through effort or calculation.
A subtle, almost imperceptible emptiness spread through his heart.
None of this escaped Old Joe's eyes.
Although he was chatting and laughing with his old friend, his gaze kept inadvertently sweeping across the room, especially towards Victor.
He watched Viktor chatting and laughing among the crowd, and he also saw the fleeting silence on Viktor's face when he sat alone in the corner, a silence that seemed out of place with the surrounding atmosphere.
Old Joe wasn't entirely unfamiliar with that look in his eyes.
Those are people who have experienced extreme loneliness and immense pressure; even in the most bustling places, they will occasionally reveal a sense of scrutiny and alienation.
Old Joe took a sip of whiskey, pondering to himself.
Viktor was someone he had watched grow up, and he was the pride of his family and the entire Chinese business community.
Intelligent, strong, and decisive, he has achieved far more than his peers.
But Old Joe could guess the price he paid—his fragile emotions had long been torn apart by the bastards in the South, and his life was subsequently consumed by work and ambition, with his personal space being extremely compressed.
"A man, especially a successful man, cannot have only a job."
Old Joe silently thought to himself, "What he needs is a home, a real, warm harbor, not a cold, impersonal apartment where he goes back alone. What he needs is someone who understands his needs, shares his joys, and helps him cope with his stress."
The brief, genuine smile on Victor's face when he held Karen contrasted sharply with his current silence as he stood alone.
Old Joe felt that what Victor's apartment lacked was not expensive furniture or artwork, but the presence of a woman, the warmth of everyday life, and a kind of tenderness that allowed him to completely relax and let down his guard.
"He needs a wife."
This idea became clear and firm in Old Joe's mind.
Not a female companion, not a lover, but a partner who can understand him, support him, truly enter his heart, and pull him back to this real world full of everyday life.
This will not only bring happiness to Viktor, but also strengthen the bonds within the entire family—after all, for a family like theirs, the core is always the family.
The banquet finally came to an end.
They began to say goodbye, hug each other, and make plans to meet again.
The children were gently woken and wrapped in thick down jackets. The sound of an engine warming up could be heard outside.
Old Joe clapped his hands to get everyone's attention: "Everyone, that's all for tonight! Take care on the road, and Merry Christmas!"
He paused, then turned his gaze to Viktor, who was picking up his coat. "Viktor, you've been drinking, don't drive. We've been preparing a guest room for you upstairs, stay here tonight."
Victor didn't like sleeping in his uncle's room.
Even in the dead of winter, Viktor used to stay inside the iron box outside.
Of course, they wouldn't agree.
Viktor smiled, his smile now possessing its usual composure and aloofness: "Thank you, Uncle. It's alright, my home is very close by!"
Old Joe walked up to him, lowered his voice, and spoke with the concern of an elder: "Work is never-ending. Look at Michael and Liz, Ethan and Sarah... Victor, you've built such a big career, you need someone close to take care of you. Being alone is a bit lonely."
He didn't spell it out too clearly, but the meaning was already quite obvious.
Viktor paused slightly, then casually put on his coat, his tone relaxed yet authoritative: "I'm fine as I am, Uncle, I'm free. And it's not like I'm without anyone to take care of me, the assistant and housekeeper are very professional."
He cleverly replaced "emotion" with "professionalism," thus avoiding the core of the problem.
Old Joe wasn't so easily dismissed. He smiled and shook his head: "Professionalism is professionalism, that's work. Family and relationships are another matter. Look at tonight, this liveliness and warmth, that's life! Want me to keep an eye out for you? A few old friends have daughters who are very outstanding and beautiful..."
"Uncle, I have my own girl."
Victor interrupted him gently but firmly, patting Old Joe's arm. "I appreciate your kindness. But I'm really not thinking about that right now. Let matters of the heart take their course."
His gaze was polite yet distant, clearly drawing a line between them.
Old Joe knew that was all he could say for tonight.
He understood Viktor's personality; a forceful recommendation would only backfire.
He could only nod, concealing a hint of disappointment in his eyes: "Alright, just be careful on the road, and call me when you get home."
The driver smoothly drove the car out towards the apartment.
Outside the car window, the festive lights flashed past quickly, gradually becoming sparse.
The carriage was completely silent, a stark contrast to the commotion inside the villa just moments before.
The only sounds in the air were the deep hum of the engine and the faint whirring of the heater.
Victor leaned back in the comfortable leather back seat, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, and the polite smile he usually wore for social occasions finally vanished, replaced by a faint weariness and emptiness.
He gazed at the dazzling city lights outside the window, but those brilliant lights offered him no warmth whatsoever.
Old Joe's words echoed in his ears.
"I need a wife..."