Quiana Sutton returned to the bedroom, just tucked her clothes into the wardrobe when the phone rang. Seeing the caller ID, she impatiently closed the cabinet door and then pressed the answer button.
"What’s the matter? I don’t rember our relationship being so good that you keep thinking of and calling ."
Recently, Nathan Firth had been frequently calling her, causing her impatience to turn into disgust.
Nathan, hearing the sarcasm in her voice, did not care at all. Instead, he felt a kind of gratifying pleasure, "Didn’t you ask Northmount to deliver a ssage for you? He delivered it perfectly."
She uttered a very indifferent "oh" in response, then fell silent. She never felt the need for any communication with Nathan Firth.
Every ti the two of them t, it required bloodshed and injury.
Either he got hurt or she did.
Her excessively indifferent attitude left him very dissatisfied.
At this mont, Durrell Landon opened the door and called, "Cece..."
Quiana Sutton was startled, nearly forgetting she was in the master bedroom of the Imperial View Manor, instinctively covering the mouthpiece, but Nathan still heard Durrell Landon’s voice.
"Cece..."
"Why did I hear a man’s voice?"
Listening to his dangerous and sullen voice, Quiana couldn’t control her body’s stiffness.
She knew Nathan was angry, but she did not want to explain it either.
She simply hung up the phone.
She glanced nervously at Durrell Landon, for the first ti feeling as if she’d been caught cheating.
Durrell Landon, seeing the unnatural expression on Quiana’s face, suddenly entertained an absurd thought.
"You... who were you just talking to? Was it Alexander Skylane or so other illicit lover?"
Quiana: "..."
"Don’t joke around."
She wouldn’t cheat on anyone.
It couldn’t be Alexander Skylane, and Nathan Firth was even less possible.
Nathan was purely a psychotic. At the ti, to escape his control, she destroyed his Hall of Justice and almost perished with him to finally make him let go.
On the day she left, he stopped her. She thought there would be a fierce battle, never expecting him to say—
In this world, the thing that enchanted him the most wasn’t love but pain. Only in pain could he feel that he was still alive. Originally, he wanted her to accompany him in suffering, but in the end, he softened...
She didn’t know what Nathan Firth had experienced, she only knew one thing: he could kill her, but she could also kill him.
"What are you doing—"
Engrossed in her mories too deeply, Quiana didn’t realize her fingernails had pierced her palm, with blood trickling from her fingertips onto the carpet and quickly disappearing.
At this mont, Durrell Landon didn’t bother questioning whether she had cheated or who was on the other end of the call, just forcefully opened her hand, looking at the bloodstains in her palm with a deep sigh.
"I’ll go get you so dicine."
Finished speaking, he left the room.
She sat a bit powerlessly on the sofa. Nathan and she had been entangled for nearly ten years, leaving an indelible mark on her life. Even if she wanted to forget, it wouldn’t be easy to do so quickly.
Durrell Landon returned with a dicine kit. It was the first ti he saw Quiana so weak and in pain.
With all her rationality and defenses down, it turned out she wasn’t so indestructible.
He sat beside her, carefully cleaning her wounds, applying ointnt, and bandaging them before saying:
"You sleep in the master bedroom tonight, and I’ll sleep in the nearby guest room."
Since sharing a bed with him made her uncomfortable, he didn’t want to force her.
Unexpectedly, she leaned over,
"Sleep with ."
"Are you sure?"
She wrapped her arms around his waist, nodding vigorously. She needed another person now to erase Nathan’s influence on her, even if it ant doing sothing, she was ntally prepared.
...
Everstar Pavilion.
By now it was late at night, and the room’s cold white light made it seem bleak and desolate.
Nathan Firth was painting; he liked painting butterflies.
Butterflies cannot fly across the sea or out of deep valleys, ultimately trapped in the beautiful beliefs of their own making.
In a cage beside him were many butterflies he had captured; so had already died, while others were desperately trying to escape this prison.
He reached his fingers into the cage, caught a butterfly, and placed it in his palm, with dangerous emotions seething in his deep black pupils.
As if speaking to himself, "Why do you want to fly away? Isn’t it good to obediently stay by my side? If you insist on leaving, I can only make you into a specin."
With this thought, he applied a bit of force, and the butterfly lost its life, slowly sliding from his palm.
"Co in."
Northmount, waiting outside the door, heard Nathan’s voice and quickly pushed the door open to enter, bowing respectfully, "Master."
"Go, investigate what the young lady has done in these past three years. No matter what she has done or which n she has interacted with, investigate thoroughly and clearly."
Northmount: "..."
The master’s voice was quiet, but he could feel the master’s imnse anger.
And what could anger the master so much was likely sothing the young lady had done again...
He reluctantly responded, "Understood."
After Northmount left, Nathan continued to complete the butterfly painting.
The only butterfly among the withered grass clearly did not belong to this season or this place, yet due to accidentally straying into this place, it buried its most beautiful life, leaving only the desolate beauty of decay and death.
He laid down the final stroke and then slowly got up, left the studio, and turned off the lights.
After he left, the butterflies in the cage seed to crash against it with a reckless attitude, not caring if it led to mutual destruction. Soon, one after another, they slowly fell...
...
*
*
The next day.
Quiana Sutton awoke in bed to find that Durrell Landon had already left at so point.
Last night, she thought sothing might happen, but he just held her all night.
Durrell Landon post-amnesia was gentle and restrained, yet dominantly in the right asure.
She doubted she’d be able to leave so easily after three months...
Ardane International Airport.
Charles Foote glanced at Durrell Landon sitting beside him, sowhat surprised, "Didn’t you say you’d go in a few days? Why suddenly call this morning saying you’re going now?"
Durrell Landon gazed at the blue sky and white clouds outside the plane, expressionless, "I think it’s better to give her so ti alone..."
If pushed too hard, it could drive her away further...
Last night, after she ended that call, her deanor beca very odd. Although he didn’t know who it was, a strong sense of jealousy arose...
When facing him, she was always full of reason, leaving him unaware of what lay beneath her mask.
But that person could stir all her emotions...
Charles Foote, however, didn’t say much, just sighed, "You’ve really put a lot of thought into her."
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