After Tormenting Him, I Saw Comments and Fled

Chapter 4

Grandma's surgery went smoothly.

I stayed beside her hospital bed for three days. On the fourth morning, I completed her discharge paperwork and hired a car to take both Grandma and her wheelchair to the station.

I carried a backpack over my shoulders and a woven bag in my hand. Inside were Grandma's clothes and the fish knife that had been with me for ten years.

I couldn't bring myself to throw it away.

The waiting hall wasn't crowded. The departure board showed our bus leaving in twenty minutes.

Grandma sat quietly in her wheelchair. She couldn't hear or speak, only watched the people moving around us and occasionally patted the back of my hand.

I crouched down to tuck the blanket around her legs.

Then the comments appeared again.

A: [Run! Mr. Stone has gone completely insane looking for you! Thirty Range Rovers are already on the highway!]

I shot to my feet.

The station announcement began calling passengers to board. I pushed Grandma's wheelchair toward the gate.

Just as we reached the turnstiles, sharp screeching brakes echoed outside. One after another.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the terminal, black Range Rovers lined up from the east entrance all the way to the west.

At the same time, men in black uniforms flooded into the building, sealing off every exit.

Passengers started screaming. Some grabbed their luggage and ran.

My hands tightened around Grandma's wheelchair handles. My feet refused to move.

At the center of the east entrance, a stretched black sedan rolled to a stop.

Someone stepped forward and opened the rear door.

A pair of polished black dress shoes touched the ground.

Ethan walked in.

Black three-piece suit. The top button fastened.

Nothing about him resembled the man who had stood outside my stall drenched in rain six days ago. Now he radiated an oppressive authority so overwhelming that every bodyguard around him lowered their heads, unwilling to meet his gaze.

He looked taller, broader and more untouchable.

His eyes swept across the terminal. Passed over hundreds of people and landed directly on me.

Then he started walking fast.

Bodyguards fell into formation behind him.

I instinctively stepped backward. My back hit the turnstile. There was nowhere left to go.

Ethan stopped in front of me. He towered over me by more than a head. I had to tilt my chin upward just to see his face.

His gaze lingered on me before dropping lower, to my right hand.

The bank receipt clenched tightly in my fingers. The receipt for the six million dollars. I'd forgotten to put it away.

He grabbed my wrist, lifted my hand and read the paper for two seconds.

His Adam's apple bobbed. His lips parted.

And for the first time, I heard his voice, deep and hoarse around the edges.

He could talk now.

"Faye. You took someone else's six million dollars and planned to abandon your husband and run away?"

Ethan pinned me against the turnstile. One hand braced against the metal bar above my head. He lowered his face until we were inches apart.

"My life. In your eyes... Was it really only worth that much?"