Chapter 13
Hearing the words “son of a convict“, Yvan felt a sharp contraction in his chest, his voice breaking as he shot back, “I dare you to say that again!”
Matilda didn’t speak, but her eyes bore into him with an intensity that reflected how much love had turned to hate.
“You put me behind bars for five years, Yvan. Five. Long. Years. And you know what? Whether I was innocent or not doesn’t even matter. What matters is that you never had a shred of trust in me,” she said, her voice cold and swift as if Yvan were now nothing more than an
inconsequential stranger. It was as if she was using every ounce of her strength to wound him deeply.
A sarcastic smile played on Matilda’s lips. “Don’t tell me you’ve just realized that our old flame isn’t quite extinguished?”
A crack appeared in Yvan’s rage–filled eyes as he stood up abruptly and clutched Matilda’s throat.
His handsome features were overlaid with a sheen of frost as he looked at her and laughed. cruelly, “Who taught you to talk like that, huh? Thinking you’ve grown wings since you got out of the slammer?”
As the cold surrounded her and his grip tightened, cutting off her air, Matilda’s breaths came in short gasps. “Yvan, I learned from the best. From you!”
Yvan shuddered, feeling as if his blood was flowing backward.
Matilda laughed weakly under his grasp. “Rest easy, Yvan. Just give me back my son, and I promise you won’t see me again for as long as I live. Not even news of my death will reach your ears.”
Yvan looked at her in disbelief, managing to choke out, “What did you say?”
With a sudden fierce struggle, Matilda broke free from his grasp and stumbled, her knees hitting the hardwood floor with a dull thud. She didn’t make a sound, then shakily got to her feet in
front of Yvan.
“All the love I had for you, Yvan, you’ve strangled it. What more could you possibly want from me? You’ve already picked the Thompson family clean. For once, Yvan, can’t you show me a little mercy?”
Can’t you show me a little mercy? Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.
The plea cut through him like a blade, bringing back the acute pain he felt when he saw her taken away in a police car five years ago.
Yvan’s pupils contracted, his voice hoarse. “What exactly do you want?”
“That’s my line.” Matilda retorted, her gaze fragmented with emotion. She never imagined that
19.06
even after five years, she couldn’t escape Yvan’s shadow.
“I loved you, and I paid with five years in a cage. Yvan, please, let me go.” She begged silently.
Yvan felt a lump in his throat upon seeing the expression on Matilda’s face. Frustrated, he tugged at his collar, deliberately avoiding her gaze. In a low voice, he said, “You want your son back? Fine. Meet me at Mago tonight and help entertain a client over drinks.”
Matilda looked up in disbelief, her eyes widening with anger. “Yvan, you’re pimping me out for drinks?”
Yvan sneered at her, “What’s the problem? Isn’t getting your son back worth that much to you?” Matilda stepped back, shaking her head in denial. “I guess I’m just not as cruel as you…”
But then, suddenly, she laughed again, tears still clinging to her eyes. Facing Yvan, she managed a smile, “Alright, Mr. Boyd, if that’s what you want, who am I to refuse? Just a dinner to get my son back? I’d face death itself for that!”