Joelle was nearly touched by the genuine look in Adrianâs eyes. Yet, the wounds from their past were so deep that she couldnât put them out of her mind. Could she really be falling for the same trick once more?
âDo you like me?â she asked. Adrian was still holding her arm, clearly not planning to release it anytime soon. âYes, I like you, and I wish to start over with you.â
Joelle found herself both startled and amused by his preposterous statement. âAdrian, is it me you like, or is it just that my recent attentions have flattered your ego once again, just like they used to?â
Adrianâs face showed utter bewilderment, and his hold slightly loosened. âIs that what you think of me?â
âWhat else should I think?â
Joelle acknowledged she was being deliberately harsh, but she deemed it necessary to clarify their situation and eliminate any false hopes. If not, she might find herself hesitating again. After eight years, her bitterness had not faded.
Adrianâs eyes wandered across Joelleâs face, his voice tight with emotion. He had much to say, yet it felt pointless to speak. âJoelle, what do you mean by boosting my ego? Is that really how you see me?â
âIsnât it?â Joelle responded, her expression unyielding. âYou preferred the woman who attended to your every whim, who washed your clothes and cooked your meals, who managed your life down to the last detail, who lost her identity in your shadow. But she no longer exists.â
Before Adrian could say anything, Joelle shifted the conversation. âYou seem to have recovered quite well. Now that Iâve repaid my dues, I owe you nothing from this moment on.â It was her most decisive statement to him yet.
Recalling how Adrian used to speak to her in the same manner, she suddenly felt no remorse at all. She had arrived by taxi and decided to take one for her return as well. She climbed into the only available cab. Immediately upon sitting, she informed the driver of her destination.
The vehicle pulled away smoothly, and Joelle stared out the window, her mind adrift in thoughts. Her eyelids soon became heavy, and she began to nod off, waking briefly only to drift off again. After several such episodes, she finally slumped over in the back seat.
The last image she saw before closing her eyes was the driver glancing back at her, his face obscured by a mask, adding an air of mystery. Joelle was startled awake by a wet sensation on her face. It felt as though something was licking her.
When she opened her eyes, she saw a Maine Coon cat darting away, looking as if it had been up to some mischief. Footsteps neared, and Joelle, now sitting on the floor, focused straight ahead. A man in black suit pants, distant and imposing, crouched down in front of her, reaching out with a hand bearing a green ring towards the cat. âCome here.â
Without needing any cat food or special commands, the cat obediently scampered into his arms and settled quietly. Joelle instantly felt a deep sense of danger. Her first instinct upon waking was to quickly scan her surroundings. She appeared to be in a basement, with the sole exit being a staircase behind the man that led to a brighter upper floor. Attempting to edge backward discreetly, Joelle was still noticed by the man. âJoelle Watson?â
He pronounced her name word by word, as though verifying her identity. This cautious exchange made Joelle wary of responding impulsively. She kept silent, her outward composure masking a trace of fear.
Jonathan flashed a menacing grin. âWhy so tense?â
Joelle took a deep breath. âWho are you? What do you want? Where are we?â
âYouâre asking a lot all at once; which question do you want me to answer first?â
Joelle sensed that this man was not to be underestimated. After a brief pause, she asked, âAre you after money, or is it my life you want? If itâs moneyââ
âYour life.â
Jonathan observed the calm woman before him. Most would be panicking by now, yet she remained composed and even attempted to negotiate with him. âMy life? Whoâs behind this?â
Jonathan didnât respond right away. He set the cat aside and walked to a table.
Arrayed on the seemingly ordinary table were an assortment of knives and instruments of torture. He casually picked up a dagger and began polishing it with a white cloth, making it shine.
âKnowing who sent me wonât change your fate. Youâre still going to die.â
Joelle hid her right hand behind her back, which was shaking uncontrollably as her fear mounted. âIf you know who I am, then you should realize my family will suspect something if I donât return!â
Jonathan said calmly, âDonât worry. Half an hour ago, I used your phone to text your brother that you wouldnât be home tonight. He merely responded with an âokay.'â
Joelle cursed Shawn inwardly. Some brother he turned out to be! Feeling a sense of despair, she managed to steady her trembling hand. She stood and moved closer cautiously.
Jonathan set the dagger down and picked up a pair of pliers. Joelle glanced at the dagger, her eyes twinkling.
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