Chapter Thirty-One
"Miss. Young, I’ve heard so much about you."
Xen smiled as he flashed a calculated grin in Monica’s direction, making her soul tremble. ’Why is the son of the Loaine Family approaching ?’
"I’m sorry, Mr. Loaine. I don’t think we’ve t before." Monica flashed a polite smile as she grabbed Alex’s forearm, trying to calm down her nerves.
Alex, noticing Monica’s tense state, imdiately stepped forward, shielding Monica from Ren’s gaze. "It seems Mr. Loaine has found the wrong woman. Please step back, Mr. Loaine. You’re scaring my student."
"The Death Butterfly’s student? Miss Young is intriguing more each second." Xen’s grin widened even further as his calculated eyes were fixed on the butterfly mask, covering Alex’s face.
"Did you not hear it? Back off, Loaine."
Xen chuckled at Alex’s warning as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "This is a neutral area under the Reisa Family. How dare I trouble a candidate, Miss Butterfly. I just simply wish to–"
"Monica?"
The beach fell silent.
Monica’s face, red with embarrassnt monts ago, turned pale as she stared at the bald old man approaching with a beautiful young woman and a sowhat handso young man at his sides.
"Uncle Shit." Monica’s voice ca out weak. Her grip on Alex’s arm tightened until her knuckles turned white.
Shit Young, his bald head shining under the sun, spread his arms wide. "Now, now, is that any way to greet your favourite uncle? I raised you after your father passed, and this is the thanks I get?"
"You took everything my father left us," Monica whispered, her eyes fixed on the sand. "The house. The money. Everything except that old apartnt."
"Ungrateful," the young woman beside Shit scoffed, flipping her curled hair back. Her ruby eyes which were the sa shade as Monica’s still nothing like hers, ran over Monica with disgust. "Father worked himself to death managing the family after your father died, and you speak to him like this? In front of the Young Master of the Loaine Family?"
"Clara, please." Shit raised a hand, though his eyes glead. "Monica is emotional. She’s been through so much. We must be patient."
"Patient?" The handso man beside Clara stepped forward, lips curling. "We’ve been nothing but patient, Father. And how does she repay us? By running around with strange n to buy her a mall while her brother lies in a hospital bed?"
Monica’s head snapped up. "Don’t you dare. Neil is getting the best treatnt possible. Thanks to—"
"Thanks to what, Monica?" Clara interrupted, stepping closer. Her eyes darted toward Xen, who watched the family drama with a small smile. "Your sugar daddy, who you sold your body to? Do you think we don’t know anything?
Uncle Donovan told us how your sugar daddy bought the DM Mall for you with a thousand percent tip and even got the Lavel Family’s only daughter to manage it. You must have done a lot of dirty deeds in bed to achieve that level of favour, huh."
Monica’s breath caught in her throat as unshed tears glistened at the corner of her eyes, shining under her glasses.
"Ah! So, the paynt at the hospital wasn’t made by Miss Young. I approached you as I was curious about the thousand percent tip, turns out it was Miss Monica’s sugar daddy. What a sha! A pretty girl like you using such thods."
Xen’s words hung in the air like poison.
Monica’s hands trembled at her sides. The tears behind her glasses threatened to fall, but she blinked them back. ’I cannot cry. I won’t be childish anymore. I’ll show him I’m as mature and strong as Elena and Monica.’
"Young Master Loaine," Clara spoke quickly, making Monica pull herself out of her thoughts as she witnessed Clara bowing her head toward Xen. "I apologise on behalf of my family. You shouldn’t have to witness such shaful behaviour from our cousin."
"Shaful?" Monica’s voice ca stronger than before as she held her head high, glancing coldly at Clara. "I haven’t done anything shaful."
"Oh?" Clara turned back to her, smile sharp as she flipped her hair. "Then explain the mall, cousin. Explain the hospital bill. Explain how soone who couldn’t pay the bill for three months suddenly has a billionaire sugar daddy buying her everything she points at with a thousand percent tip?"
"That’s not—" Monica started.
"Spreading your legs for money is shaful, Monica." Liam stepped closer, his handso face twisted with disgust.
"Father always said you had no skills, no talent, nothing to offer that’s why he left that rundown apartnt for you. Looks like he was right. You just found a different way to sell yourself to an old man. Be careful. Those kinds of sugar daddies have a lot of diseases."
Sothing snapped inside Monica at Liam’s words as her tears dried and the trembling stopped. Her spine straightened as if pulled by an invisible wire.
"Don’t," Monica warned, her voice low and cold, "talk about him like that."
Liam blinked, montarily stunned by the steel in her tone. Then, laughed. "Him? The sugar daddy? What, you’ve developed feelings for your al ticket, Monica? How pathetic—"
SLAP!
The sound cracked across the beach like a gunshot.
Liam’s head snapped to the side, a red handprint blooming across his cheek. His mouth hung open, eyes wide with disbelief.
Clara scread. "MONICA! ARE YOU CRAZY?! HOW DARE YOU SLAP MY BROTHER?!"
Shit Young’s face purpled with rage. "You insolent girl! How dare you raise your hand against family?!"
But Monica didn’t back down. Her hand still stung from the impact, but she held her ground, her ruby eyes blazing.
"Family?" Monica laughed. "You stopped being my family the day you stole my inheritance. You stopped being my family when you turned your back on Neil. And now you co here, in front of everyone, trying to humiliate the man who put back on my feet? A family like you can go to hell for all I care!"
"MONICA!"
Clara’s face twisted with fury. Without a word, she drew back her hand and swung it across Monica’s cheek with every ounce of strength she possessed.
CRACK!
The slap was brutal and far harder than Monica’s had been.
Monica’s glasses flew from her face. Her head whipped to the side, and the force of the blow sent her stumbling sideways, her feet tangling in the loose sand. The world spun as she fell...
However, she never hit the ground.
Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her against a solid chest. The scent of cheap soap and sothing warr filled her lungs. She blinked in surprise and looked up.
The skull mask. Those onyx eyes.
"...Ren?"
"What did you call him, Miss Young?"
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