Nelson's head throbbed. The sensation of nearly drowning lingered, his throat still burning fiercely. He'd truly almost died. And that man had watched.
"Nelson! I'm speaking to you! Are you deaf? What happened? You've disappointed me!" Mrs. Hill's voice was sharp. "Your father was like this, and now you! What spell have Madalyn and her daughter cast on you?" Hysteria edged her words. Madalyn had ruined her life; was her daughter now ruining her son?
"Mom, this is between Janelle and me. Don't interfere. I'll handle it myself," Nelson finally spoke, his voice hoarse.
"Handle it? Is she harassing you? She's a lunatic, just like her mother! I forbid you from having anything to do with her!"
"Mom, I'm an adult! I know what I'm doing! Can you please stop controlling everything? Ever since I was a child, you've dictated every decision! If I don't obey, you rage! Do you have any idea how suffocating that is?" Nelson's frustration erupted.
Mrs. Hill stared at him, stunned. "Suffocating? Everything I've done has been for you!"
Mother and son argued fiercely.
Lillie watched, a bitter taste in her mouth. Nelson had always obeyed Mrs. Hill. Now, was he defying her… for Janelle?
"Nelson, Auntie is just worried sick about you," Lillie interjected softly.
"Just… both of you go. I need to be alone." He was overwhelmed. He needed space to think. Neither Janelle nor that man would get away with this. He'd make them both kneel and beg.
Mrs. Hill stormed out, furious. Lillie lingered.
Nelson looked up at her. "Lillie, it's late. Go home and rest. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?"
Lillie nodded. "Nelson, remember this: No matter what happens, I'll always be by your side," she said with deep sincerity.
"Yeah, I know. We'll be fine," Nelson assured her. He would marry her. That was certain.
When Lillie arrived home, Westin and Amber were already asleep. She opened a bottle of whiskey, drinking heavily. The resentment simmered, but for now, she could only endure.
Janelle hadn't returned home. She'd stayed with Sara. They woke around 8:30 AM.
Knowing Janelle was heading to Blue Whale today, Sara laid out a chic women's suit – her own latest design, one she adored.
Janelle changed into the outfit.
"Janelle," Sara breathed, eyes wide, "your figure... even I'm drooling!"
At five-foot-ten, Janelle's proportions were flawless. The suit trousers hugged her long, straight legs; her waist was cinched impossibly small. Her hair cascaded loosely down her back. Her expression was coolly detached, yet that very aloofness was utterly captivating.
"Yours isn't bad either," Janelle returned. Sara, at five-foot-three, had always envied Janelle's height, but her own proportions were perfect, making her stunningly beautiful.
Sara suddenly hugged her tightly. "I'm so glad you're back."
"From now on, whatever happens, we face it together." Five years ago, she'd been too young, too powerless, forced to watch helplessly as Janelle was sent alone to the border. Now, she had the means. She would help, no matter what.
Janelle held her. "Sara, I'm back. Don't worry. No one can bully me now." She soothed her friend's lingering worry.
Sara needed to go to university today and couldn't accompany Janelle. They stepped into the elevator. Janelle pressed the button for the underground parking.
"Janelle, my car isn't fixed yet. No need to go down."
"It is."
Janelle led Sara to her parking spot. A car sat there, covered by a dust cover.
"A dust cover? For my old beater? That's overkill!" Sara laughed.
"Stand there."
Sara obeyed. Janelle pulled off the cover. A gleaming, brand-new red supercar was revealed.
Sara's jaw dropped. "Who am I? Where am I? Is this my car? This can't be my car!"
"It is yours." Janelle tossed her the keys. "Take it for a spin. If anything doesn't feel right, I'll have it modified." This was stock; Simon had driven it straight over. No modifications yet.
Sara stared at the keys, stunned. "Janelle, this car is insanely expensive. I'm scared to drive it!" She'd agonize over a scratch on her old car; this felt like piloting a fortune.
Janelle opened the driver's door and gently pushed Sara in. "What's there to fear? No one will dare hit you," Janelle joked. "People will steer clear when they see you coming." She'd promised a new car. She delivered.
Sara drove the supercar to drop Janelle off at Blue Whale.
"Janelle, call me when you're done. I'll pick you up." Sara started nervously but quickly relaxed. The supercar handled like a dream, its performance exhilarating.
"Okay. Go to class."
Janelle stepped out of the low-slung car. "Bye, darling!" Sara called out, waving. She suddenly felt a bit like... being kept. But honestly? The feeling wasn't half bad.
Janelle walked into Blue Whale. Her phone rang – an unknown number. She answered as she walked.
"Hello? Who is this?"
"It's me." The voice on the other end was lazy, deep, and undeniably seductive.
Janelle frowned. "Who?"
Erik was instantly annoyed. She didn't recognize his voice? Was he that forgettable? "Erik."
Erik had just finished his workout. Sweat soaked his black tank top. A black headband held back his hair, radiating an air of unbridled wildness.
"What do you want?"
"Nothing. Just wanted to hear your voice."
"Hang up."
Janelle ended the call without hesitation.
Erik stared at the disconnected phone, a strange feeling twisting inside him. Was the little vixen always this cold?
"Erik," Bryan called out from where he was lifting weights nearby, "looks like your road to winning her over is gonna be a long one!"
Erik shot him a cool glance. "Have you ever been in a relationship? What does a lifelong bachelor know about giving advice?" Let the mutual roasting begin.
"..." Bryan fell silent. What was the point of relationships? Women were complicated creatures who got mad at the slightest thing. Wasn't focusing on his career better?
Erik tossed his towel aside and strode into the shower, stripping off the damp tank and shorts. The water streamed over him. How do I make the little vixen fall for me?