Chapter 8
He actually knew my real name!
I was stunned, my blood running cold all over.
An hour later.
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Raymond brought us to a hotel. My mother and the kids were settled into
a room to rest.
I was forced into Raymond’s presidential suite. He sat in the boss chair, his jacket off, two buttons undone at the collar, broad shoulders filling the well–tailored shirt, his waist cinched tight.
I stood before him, nervously twisting my fingers.
Raymond held up his phone. “My grandmother really likes your children. She asked me to bring you all back to Los Angeles. I didn’t expect you to run off in the middle of the night. It took me a long time to find you.”
So it was Regina who sent him.
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I muttered, “Thank you, Mr. Merrick, and thank you to Mrs. Merrick for her kindness. But I don’t plan to take the kids back.”
I didn’t want any connection with Liora or Raymond, even the slightest.
Raymond ignored my words and went on, “Those guys earlier were local thugs. Don’t worry. I’ll find out who’s behind this soon.”
Who else could be behind this but Liora?
Raymond wouldn’t cause trouble for his own wife just because his
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grandmother liked my kids, right?
I couldn’t afford to offend Liora, and Raymond wouldn’t let us go.
Even if we left, the rest of our lives would be lived in constant fear.
My mind tangled with worries. Raymond put down his phone and came beside me.
“Sit down. Let’s talk.”
“Thank you, Mr. Merrick.” I sat cautiously on the sofa, turning sideways.
Raymond smiled ambiguously and teased, “The first time I saw you, you were fierce and fiery. Why do you look like such a pushover now?”
First time? Fierce and fiery?
Suddenly, it clicked–memories flooded back.
When I was 14, my school organized a viewing of a tennis match.
Raymond was a seeded player, a senior in high school, the aloof heartthrob sweeping the campus.
He was confident and skillful. Every shot hit the hearts of the girls.
When he won the last point, the crowd erupted in deafening cheers and applause.
Liora and her girlfriends huddled, their hearts fluttering, gossiping about how handsome Raymond was, asking if he had a girlfriend.
I was bored and slipped away alone.
I wandered to the tennis court’s garden, circled around, and squatted by some flowers, watching butterflies sipping nectar.
Chapter 8
Lost in thought, a curly–haired boy in a prestigious school uniform approached me.
He sneered, “You’re that illegitimate daughter of the Corbin family, Joanne?”
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His lecherous eyes and immediately calling me an illegitimate daughter made it clear he meant trouble.
At school, Liora and her followers had bullied me relentlessly.
I stood up at once and tried to walk away.
The curly–haired boy blocked my way.
“I heard you’re mute. Why not go to a school for the deaf and mute? But you’re pretty good–looking.”
I recoiled from him with disgust. He stubbornly chased after me, shouting, “Quiet girl, where are you running? I’m bored–play with me!”
Like a hungry wolf, he grabbed me from behind, trying to slip his hand inside my clothes!
In a panic, I grabbed a hairpin from my head and stabbed deep into his hand.
The boy roared and shoved me away.
I steadied myself by leaning on a tree.
Clenching the hairpin, I glared at him with a deathly stare.
If he dared to assault me, I would fight him to the death!
The boy clutched his bleeding hand, cursing, “Damn bitch! I tried to play nice, but you had to push it!”
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He raised his other hand to hit me, but his wrist was suddenly grabbed.
Turning around to curse, the boy saw who it was and instantly wilted.
“R–Raymond it’s you”
His smile was replaced with a sycophantic grin.
The newcomer was none other than Raymond, who had just made a grand
entrance.
Raymond glanced briefly at me, then looked at the boy with pure contempt.
“What are you doing?”
The boy tried to explain, “This girl offended me. I just wanted to scold her.”
Raymond tightened his grip, and the boy howled in pain, begging for mercy.
Raymond sneered.
“Do you think I’m blind?”
The boy’s face went pale. “N–no, Raymond, please let me go.‘
Raymond narrowed his eyes, threatening, “How did you get that injury?”
The boy honestly answered, “She stabbed me.”
As soon as he said it, Raymond squeezed harder.
With a wicked smile, Raymond said, “Say that again.”
I could almost hear the sound of the boy’s bones cracking.
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The boy was about to faint from the pain, crying, “No! I did it to myself! Please, Raymond, have mercy!”
Only then did Raymond let go.
The boy ran away, face contorted in pain.
I gave Raymond a slight bow and turned to leave.
His voice came from behind.
“I saved you, and you can’t even say thank you?”
