A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

“Matilda, I never pegged you for a whore!” Yvan’s temper was flaring as he pinned her against the restroom wall, his breath coming in heavy bursts, his eyes a tempest of rage–he was livid.

“You lure me out for drinks, never considering I might get hassled?” Matilda’s laugh was sly, her eyes narrowing. “Wasn’t it your wish to see me humiliated? Annoyed that you missed the show?”

Yvan pressed her harder against the wall, closing in on her, his gaze, dark and intense, locked onto hers. After a moment, his lips crashed onto hers in a feverish kiss.

Matilda struggled violently.

Just then, someone entered the restroom.

Yvan chuckled lowly, “Scream. Let everyone outside witness this spectacle!”

Bastard!

Matilda glared at Yvan, her eyes brimming with tears, “Why are you doing this to me?”

Yvan remained silent, leaning in to kiss her savagely once more. Her taste was surprisingly intoxicating. When she was his wife five years ago, sleeping with her was just part of the routine. Though he didn’t care for her, Matilda’s figure was appealing, so Yvanever found her dull.

But he hadn’t expected her to get pregnant, to bear his child.

Memories surged, and a question pierced his thoughts. Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

Five years ago, when Rachel died, had Matilda been pregnant too?

She hadn’t said a word, so he never knew. He’d kicked her at Rachel’s grave site, sent her to prison, driven her to insanity…

Yvan shivered violently. That the child had survived was nothing short of miraculous. Back then, Matilda must have lost all will to live, pregnant and hopeless in her cell.

Matilda shoved him away.

The crowd outside had dispersed, unaware of the two inside the last stall.

With reddened eyes, she choked out, “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Why treat me like a toy, to be taken up or insulted at your whim? Yvan, wasn’t your betrayal five years ago enough? I’ve already paid a terrible price; why can’t I escape your grasp?” She yelled inwardly.

Yvan just tightened his jaw, his pupils constricting upon seeing her pain, sensing her anguish.

Matilda pushed him off, her shoulders trembling. She straightened her clothes and fiercely wiped her lips–her lipstick had vanished during the forceful kiss, but as her hand rubbed, a

fresh redness bloomed.

Yvan felt he must be mad, certainly drunk, to find himself drawn to Matilda after all these years. Matilda covered her face as she left the restroom, and Yvan thought he heard her sobbing. breaths as she departed. He stood alone in the ladies‘ room for a long while before leaving with a troubled expression.

Stepping out, he bumped into a group of women entering.

“Damn, this is the ladies‘ room, right?”

The tipsy women glanced back at the sign, then at Yvan emerging. “Holy smokes, what a hunk! But why’s he coming out of the women’s bathroom?”

“Let’s not go there; he could be one of those creeps…”

“Seriously, looks so clean–cut, who’d have thought he’d sneak into the ladies‘ room.”

The women gave Yvan a few extra glances, but his enigmatic presence kept their comments subdued.

When Matilda returned. Bennett seemed to have been waiting for a while He greeted her with a smile and pulled her close with practiced ease as if they were old flanne

Yvan, arriving later, narrowed his eyes discreetly at the sight.

What was happening? The instant he saw something that belonged to him being touched by another man, an uncontrollable irritation surged within him.

Suppressing his turmoil, Yvan rejoined the group, appearing composed.

Meanwhile. Bennett was already beaming with Matilda leaning on his shoulder, the very picture of contentment.

Leaning in, Bennett inquired about her name, whispering with a chuckle, “You and Yvan seem quite close?”

Matilda shivered.

How did he guess? But she didn’t admit it, quickly adopting a smile, “How could that be. Mr. Fuller? What makes you think so?”

“Because I saw you leave, and then Yvan followed right after…”

That keen observation! It seemed everyone wasn’t so easily fooled. Following Yvan around, their consecutive trips to the restroom must’ve sparked Bennett’s suspicion.

Without saying much more, Matilda cast her gaze downward, and after a long pause, she asked, “Mr. Fuller, do you really want to know who I am?”

Bennett, taken aback by her solemn expression, replied, “Uh… what’s gotten into you?”

Matilda smiled, a smile that could turn the world on its axis.

Five years ago, the dream girl of every man in Ashton City was her, with her astonishingly beautiful eyes and an air of proud refinement. Now, five years later, this pearl had fallen to the dust, becoming a thorn in the side of all men!

Matilda whispered seductively in his ear, “Mr. Fuller, my name is Matilda Thompson.”

In Ashton City, there was only one Matilda–the heiress of the Thompson family!