Chapter 8
After arriving in France, I stayed with Erika.
She watched the livestream of Shania’s wedding and laughed, slapping her thigh. “They acted to fool you, but who would’ve thought you were acting too.”
“When did your brain get so smart?
“Did you hear? The Hanson family’s in chaos. Word is, after you left, the two brothers went crazy looking for you.”
That didn’t surprise me.
After all, I humiliated them hard before I left.
Especially Jimmy–I even made a point of saying he was terrible in bed.
Though honestly, he was actually quite good. He always left me half dead.
But since I was walking away clean, I had to be cold and ruthless.
I took a bite of an apple and said, “By the way, Erika, how’s the abortion appointment going?”
Erika answered, “Don’t worry, just need a few checkups.”
“Good. Let’s do it as soon as possible.”
“Leave it to me.”
Erika went with me to the hospital for all the tests.
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Chapter 8
I was getting a painless abortion.
A week before the procedure, Erika bought me a big box of snacks to cheer me up.
I hugged it, eyes misty. “Life can’t be the same with just anyone.”
On surgery day, I lay on the bed, got the anesthesia, and slowly lost control of my body. My mind began to blur.
Just then, someone approached.
“Is that the doctor?” I asked myself.
The footsteps came closer and closer.
I struggled to open my eyes.
I couldn’t tell clearly what I saw, but a chill ran down my back.
Then came a shiver of horror.
The people who entered weren’t doctors.
It was Samuel, Jimmy, and a group of black–clad Hanson family bodyguards.
The last voice in my head whispered, “Oh no.”
I wanted to move, to escape, but the anesthesia had paralyzed me.
I was like a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.
In the last moment of clarity, Samuel bent down gently and carried me
out.
Jimmy stood behind him, clenching his fists.
36.54%
Chapter 8
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I woke up in an unfamiliar house.
Samuel was sitting quietly by my bedside.
Around his neck was a dark blue scarf I had knitted for him years ago—it clashed with his luxury custom clothes.
Seeing me awake, he looked at me and asked with a hoarse voice, “You’re awake. Are you hungry?”
I looked at him. “What are you doing here?”
He sighed softly and gently stroked my head. “If I want to find you, there’s always a way.”
I nervously shrank back. “Why find me? To torture me?”
He froze, frowning. “Why think that? Have I ever been rough with you?”
“In that case, let me go.”
“Not a chance.”
He hugged me tightly. “From now on, I won’t let you go anywhere.”
