A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

“Mat.”

The man’s call was crisp and sharp, like a gust of wind that swiftly ends, cold and biting.

Matilda’s eyes twinkled with a mirthful red, “Mr. Boyd.”

She finally mustered the courage to face him.

As Yvan stepped forward, Matilda retreated, their silent standoff palpable. She warned, “Mr. Boyd, any closer, and you’ll be invading my personal space.”

Yvan halted not far from her, his smile laden with unspoken intent. “I’ve been closer before.”

“But I’ve forgotten that.” Matilda deftly parried his advance, her laughter reminiscent of an innocent, oblivious child. For a moment, it seemed as if time had rewound to the startling beauty of their first encounter.

Yet she asked, “Did you call my name for a reason, Mr. Boyd?”

So distant and detached.

Yvan’s fingers tightened around his glass as if he were clenching Matilda’s throat.

After a long pause, he finally let out a few syllables, “Matilda, you’ve changed.”

“Indeed, I have. If I hadn’t, I’d surely be dead,” she thought.

Matilda’s laugh was sharp as ice, a dance upon the blade’s edge, ready to embrace destruction at any second, yet she accepted it all. “Thanks to you.”

Those three words cut deep into his heart, and Yvan’s brows slowly gathered a shadow. In a tone Matilda couldn’t decipher, he asked, “Do you hate me?”

Matilda’s laughter was as if she had heard the world’s biggest joke.

Eventually, she shook her head and said, “Yvan, it’s far too late to talk about hate. You’re not worthy of that question anymore.”

Yvan flinched as Matilda’s laughter trembled like branches in the wind, undeniably dazzling. She had been the center of attention five years ago, and now, upon her return, she easily captured the gaze of men. Her every smile and frown was full of charm, a pity that her eyes. now laughed with icy cruelty.

She declared, “Yvan, there’s a kind of hatred that has reached a dead end, a point where it doesn’t even matter anymore. To me, you are as poison.”

Matilda stepped forward, gracefully passing by him.

Yvan reached out to grab her slender wrist, only to have it swiftly pulled away. In front of him, she walked into the arms of another man who happened to pass by, saying, “The poison has seeped into the bones; there’s nowhere left to go. You ask if I hate you? Of course I do. As

much as I once loved you, I later hated you. But now…”

She wrapped her arms around the newcomer’s neck, glancing back to see the shock exploding in Yvan’s eyes. Matilda’s smile was that of a siren. “Yvan, there’s no turning back the years. When a person is stripped of everything, nothing in this world can hold her back.”

The devil named Hatred had devoured her reason; when Yvan shattered her remaining warmth, a person in despair fears nothing.

Because there’s nothing left to lose, she fears nothing at all!

Yvan’s pupils contracted as his eyes seemed to whirl with a storm, threatening to engulf the image of Matilda within.

Adrian hadn’t expected to be used as a pawn to wound another man.

Matilda released her hold on his neck and whispered, “Thanks for playing along, Mr. Simpson.”

Then, she quickly withdrew, vanishing from the sight of both men, stepping out from the crowd and disappearing as if their encounter had been an illusion. NôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.

But, oh, but.

The organ in Yvan’s chest, known as the heart, throbbed violently, each beat pulling a string of painful relief through his veins.

The audacious and proud heiress of the Thompson family had returned.

With a bloody, visceral hatred for him.