Chapter 4

4: 4

4

I hung up fast.

My phone kept ringing, one unknown number after another.

Someone had posted the restaurant video online, and the comments were all curses aimed at me.

I switched the phone off completely.

Maria's eyes were full of tears.

"How could Rosamund and the others do something like that…"

I gave a small smile.

"It doesn't matter. From now on I have nothing to do with any of them."

The next day I picked up my suitcase, ready to leave for the airport.

Quinton came charging at me out of nowhere and kicked my luggage over.

His eyes were bloodshot, his face full of fury.

"Was it you who sent people to hassle Rosamund?"

I stared at him, baffled.

His voice was low and tight.

"She's more than four months pregnant. You sent people to scare her, made her kneel. She almost lost the baby. You're coming with me right now to apologize to her!"

He grabbed me hard and dragged me back to the apartment we'd lived in for six years.

"Let go! You're hurting me!"

He shoved me in front of Rosamund.

She was sitting on the sofa, crying until her eyes were swollen.

"I know you hate me… but you almost killed my child…"

I looked at her.

"What on earth are you talking about? I never even touched you!"

Quinton's face was dark.

"You're taking the online stuff out on her, aren't you? Whatever you're angry at me for, come at me, don't put it on her. She did nothing wrong."

I looked at him coldly.

"So what do you want?"

Quinton spoke.

"Kneel down to her. Apologize."

I glared at him, unable to believe it.

"I didn't do anything, and you want me to kneel to her? Are you insane?"

The next second, Quinton forced me down hard.

My knees slammed into the floor, and the pain made me suck in a sharp breath.

"Quinton!"

He pressed my head down, knocked it against the floor three times, then let go.

"You'd better think hard about what you've done!" With that he took Rosamund and left.

I touched my swelling forehead, shaking all over.

I ran through every corner of the apartment and smashed everything I could smash.

The photos on the walls, the ceramics on the cabinets, the flowers I'd arranged myself on the table.

Everything I had put together, piece by piece, over the last six years. Now every single thing was unbearable to look at.

When I was done, I called Maria.

"Find me a good lawyer."

When Maria heard what had just happened, her voice twisted.

"Don't worry. I'll get you the best in the country!"

I sat down and gathered everything from these years with Quinton—the chat logs, the photos, the transfer records, and all the footage from the home security camera—and packaged it together.

I registered a Twitter account under the name "Six Years Fed to a Dog."

Then I wrote a long post laying out every little detail of these past years.

I added the photos and videos, and set it to send on a timer.

Once that was done, I didn't take a single bag with me and went straight to the airport.

As the plane climbed, I leaned against the window and wiped away my last tear.

Meanwhile, Quinton was strolling through a mall with Rosamund, buying her plenty of gifts, then taking her for afternoon tea at a five-star hotel.

He coaxed her patiently.

"Noreen just loves me too much. Don't stoop to her level."

Rosamund pouted.

"Hmph, you always take her side. You don't care about me at all."

Quinton laughed and pinched her cheek.

"You little troublemaker, talking nonsense. I made her kneel and apologize to you. You call that taking her side?"

Right then the guests around the restaurant started whispering, glancing over at Rosamund now and again.

Rosamund grew restless in her seat.

"Why do they keep looking at me…"

Quinton reassured her: "Probably because of that video earlier."

A guest at the next table looked at Rosamund and said, just loud enough to carry over,

"Shameless."

Quinton's face darkened, and he was about to stand up when his phone suddenly rang.

"Hello, is this Mr. Quinton James? This is Trueline Law Firm. We need to speak with you regarding Ms. Noreen Pruitt's two-million-dollar investment stake in your company back then. You'll be receiving a court summons; please appear in court when the time comes."

Quinton froze.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The other end gave a soft laugh.

"It means, calculated on the appreciation of the shares and the dividends—"

"You owe Ms. Noreen Pruitt ten million dollars."