Chapter 4: The Eyecatcher
1064 Words
Agatha felt a surge of indignation rise within her. She straightened her spine, clutching the bills tightly in her hand. "I don't need your money," she said firmly, her voice tinged with defiance. "And I certainly don't appreciate your attitude."
The man paused in his stride, turning back to look at her with raised eyebrows as if surprised by her boldness. "Oh? And what would you prefer, then?" he asked, his voice now tinged with mild amusement.
"I'd prefer some decency and respect," Agatha retorted, her words laced with a simmering frustration. "I don't know who you think you are, but throwing money at me like I'm some charity case is insulting."
A ripple of murmurs spread through the onlookers nearby, some nodding in agreement with Agatha's sentiments while others watched the exchange with curious interest.
The man regarded her for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slight incline of his head, he said, "Very well," before turning away again and disappearing into the crowd, this time without another word.
Agatha stood there for a moment, her heart still racing from the confrontation. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself, the bills crumpled slightly in her hand.
“Tsk… you just don’t know how hell of a wealthy family I had.” She tried to lie to herself as she whispered in the air.
Slowly, she unfolded the bills and counted them once more, then made a decision.
She approached a nearby homeless shelter she often passed by but never entered. She knew there were people there who could use this money far more than she ever could. She handed it over and decided to place it under an anonymous name.
She briskly walked out, determined to keep her helpful actions to herself, without seeking any recognition.
Suddenly, a voice behind her cut through the air, low and tinged with mocking amusement. "If money isn't what you want, how about a different offer? How much would you be worth for the night?"
Agatha froze, her breath catching in her throat. She turned slowly, her eyes narrowing as she faced the arrogant stranger once more. His smirk had widened, his gaze now openly assessing her with a mixture of pomposity and condescension.
Anger flared within Agatha, hot and fierce. "You're despicable," she spat, her voice trembling with a potent blend of rage and humiliation. "How dare you? How dare you presume to insult me like this?"
She can feel his gaze piercing her. From her head to her feet, until it is back in her eyes. “And you even waited, huh? How can you have so much time to spare?” Agatha laughed, trying to mock him back.
The man's smile faltered slightly, but he maintained his composed facade. "I merely thought you might appreciate a more... direct transaction," he replied casually as if discussing the weather.
Agatha's hands clenched into fists at her sides. "I don't need your money. I don't need anything from you," she declared, her voice rising with every word. "You think because of what you wear and what you have, you can treat people however you want? Well, you're wrong. You're nothing but a shallow, pitiful excuse for a human being."
The man's facade cracked further, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "You're making a scene," he muttered, glancing around briefly as if suddenly conscious of the attention they were drawing.
"I don't care," Agatha retorted defiantly, her chest heaving with emotion. "Maybe this will teach you a lesson in delicacy and respect."
Agatha thought the man would be moved but instead, he slowly walked towards her. She tried walking backward, but he reached for her wrist and she froze down. He leaned closer to her ears and whispered, “I like the way you talk.”
“Excuse me?” She tried to pull away.
Agatha immediately became a ball of fire, her emotions threatening to explode. She couldn't handle such arrogance, and couldn't stand being treated like trash by someone who presumed superiority based on wealth and status alone.
The man's smirk faltered further at Agatha's words, his gaze narrowing with a mix of surprise and irritation. "You're quite feisty," he remarked coolly, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
"And you're insufferable," Agatha shot back, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Who do you think you are?"
The man straightened his posture, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he composed himself once more. "Allow me to introduce myself properly," he said with a hint of mockery as if indulging in a game. "I am Elijah. Elijah Vincent Hugh. The eldest son of the man you are set to marry."
Agatha's heart skipped a beat, her mind reeling at the revelation. Hugh—a name synonymous with vast wealth and influence, a family known across the city for their business empire.
"You're... you're Elijah Vincent Hugh?" Agatha managed to say, her voice now tinged with disbelief.
"Yes," Elijah replied smoothly, his tone now tinged with a hint of smug satisfaction. "And you, I presume, are the soon-to-be wife of my father, who seems to have a penchant for turning heads."
Agatha's hands trembled—her recent engagement to a man whose family she had only just begun to understand, and now this encounter with his son, who epitomized everything she despised about entitlement and privilege.
"You've got it all wrong," Agatha said through gritted teeth, her voice low and intense. "I won't be treated like this, not by you or anyone else. You may have money, but you have no right to demean and belittle others."
Elijah's expression hardened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "You're overreacting," he replied dismissively, though there was a hint of unease beneath his facade.
"No," Agatha retorted fiercely, her eyes blazing with defiance. "I'm standing up for myself. And if this is how your family operates, then maybe I need to reconsider everything."
“Reconsider?” Elijah asked in disbelief. “Isn’t it that… you will marry my father because your family is now drowning in debt?”
Agatha couldn’t believe how Elijah almost killed her on the road and now, was throwing shameful messages at her.
“Tell me, Elijah.” She glared at him. “What is your deal with me?”
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