Chapter 774



“I don’t want to talk about that. Let’s just leave it at that.” With that, Catherine hung up.

She turned to head back to the room, but as she turned, she spotted Johnson standing nearby, smoking. Her eyes briefly flickered, and she walked over to him.

Johnson was quietly smoking, not looking at her or saying anything.

“Johnson, are you still mad at me?” Catherine asked softly.

After a moment of tense silence, Johnson turned to Catherine. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice was low and hoarse. “Does it matter to you whether I’m still angry or not?”

Catherine nodded vigorously, her expression earnest. “Of course, it matters! You’re my brother, my family! I’d feel terrible if you were angry at me.”

But her words only made Johnson’s brow furrow deeply, a shadow crossing his face.

“Just family?” he asked instinctively.

Catherine blinked, confusion flickering across her face. “What do you mean?”

Johnson hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then, looking away, he muttered, “Nothing.”

Unconvinced, Catherine stepped closer and gently tugged at his sleeve, her voice soft and tinged with a plea. “Johnson, please, stop being mad at me, okay?”

The gesture sent a flicker of emotion through Johnson. In the past, whenever Catherine wanted to make amends or ask for something, she would tug at his sleeve just like this. Every time, it had the same effect—his resolve would crumble, and his heart would soften.

Johnson’s breathing grew heavier as he stared at her, wrestling with his emotions.

Finally, in a low, husky voice, he asked, “Cathy, if I made you choose between me and Leland… Who would you choose?”

Catherine froze, her expression shifting as discomfort and uncertainty clouded her face. She bit her lip, her voice trembling slightly. “Please don’t make me choose between you two. If I had to choose between family and love, I’d choose you. But… Why? Why does it have to be this way? Why do I have to choose at all?”

Catherine’s answer should have comforted Johnson, but instead, it only deepened the ache in his chest. Because he knew her choice wasn’t born of love. It was because he was her family, her foster brother… and nothing more.

Johnson’s lips curved into a bitter smile as a hollow chuckle escaped him. The sound was tinged with self-mockery.

“Never mind; pretend I didn’t ask,” he said hoarsely. Without another word, he crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, his movements stiff, and turned to leave.

As Catherine watched his retreating figure, looking lonely, an unfamiliar ache bloomed in her chest.

Back in the private room, Johnson slumped into his chair, staying silent.

Belinda and Bethany exchanged a look, their eyes mirroring their worry. From the tight lines on Johnson’s face and the sad look in his eyes, it was clear his conversation with Catherine hadn’t gone well.

Belinda poured drinks for the three of them.

“Come on, let’s drink,” she said.

They clinked glasses, the soft chime a weak attempt to lift the mood. Together, they downed their drinks in one gulp.

Belinda and Bethany didn’t know how to help Johnson with Catherine, so they just stayed by his side, drinking with him.

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