Chapter 8
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At night, I finally couldn’t hold on any longer.
Trevon must be a master when playing mind games; I was certain no one was a match for him.
I walked to his study.
Hearing my footsteps, he snorted lightly and then turned around.
“What’s up?” he said.
I sneered.
“Trevon, are you having second thoughts about getting married?”
He put down the pen in his hand, seemingly all ears about my upcoming theories.
I wasn’t gifted in business and indeed had no idea what he was up to.
“You keep me here because you don’t want me to ruin your wedding in a week, right?
“You’re smart–maybe too smart. You don’t trust anyone else to watch me, and only by putting me on your watch will you relax, right?
“But there’s one thing you missed. No woman in this world could endure seeing another woman in her fiancé’s home.
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Chapter 8
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“If you don’t let me go, I assure you that you’re gonna lose Hannah.”
“Are you done?”
He seemed so calm that I felt my tirade didn’t work at all.
I continued, “And stop feeling so good about yourself. It was three years. You left me alone abroad for three years. Did it ever occur to you what I had to endure?
“You really think I went to study there?
“The truth is, I suffered every day. Every day, I wished I were dead!
“You know what? I used to love you to the core. But not anymore.”
My words enraged him.
He gripped the pen so hard that it bent.
The veins on his forehead bulged.
“Seraphina, get your ass back to the room. Another word and I’ll make you regret it.”
I took a deep breath.
“I wanna go home.
“Or send me abroad again. This time, I won’t come back.”
He stood up, walked over, and gripped my neck abruptly.
“Say that again.”
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I thought he’d strangle me.
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But he let go after a few seconds and tossed me back to my
room.
Since I couldn’t leave, I asked Trevon for books about neurology.
He didn’t turn me down; instead, he had people deliver hundreds of them.
I no longer made a scene. I started to read and study every day from dawn to dusk.
No one knew why I’d spend so long on neurology.
Including Trevon.
He once asked me tentatively, “Do you have a headache?”
I didn’t answer.
Then he asked, “Seraphina, did someone you know abroad suffer a head injury?”
I jerked up my head abruptly.
“What did you say?
“A head injury?
“What’s his name?”
I stood up and grabbed his sleeve, getting all worked up.
“You know something, right, Trevon? Tell me.
“Tell me!”
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Chapter 8
He seemed at a loss.
Then he frowned.
“What’s up with you?
“Calm down, Seraphina.”
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