A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Yvan chuckled lowly, a hint of sarcasm lacing his voice. “Are you suggesting that I, too, have never truly had anything?”

Carl remained silent.

Yvan knew that Carl held a deep respect for Matilda. He glanced up at Carl and said, “So, what’s your take on Matilda’s kidnapping?”

“I wouldn’t presume to speculate, Carl replied, maintaining a respectful distance. “Whatever you believe, Mr. Boyd, that’s the reality.”

He wouldn’t make excuses for Matilda to Yvan; he knew Matilda herself would consider it beneath her.

Yvan looked at his assistant and laughed softly. “I’ve rounded up everyone involved in the incident. They all sing the same tune–saying that they seized the opportunity to kidnap Matilda on a whim. Whether it’s through threats, bribes, or even under duress, their story doesn’t change by a single word. Yet Matilda insists that Ella is behind it all. I’m curious: why does she insist on blaming Ella?”

Carl lowered his gaze. “If you’re puzzled, perhaps you should ask Ms. Thompson yourself.

“Me, ask her?” Yvan laughed as if he’d heard a good joke. “Matilda wouldn’t deign to answer, would she? After all, she’s just a woman. I’m freer without her.”

Exactly, better off she’s gone, better off he’s free!

He was curious where Matilda found the courage to accuse Ella when Ella had been loyal to him for five years. If there was anything amiss, he would have noticed.

Yvan mused, looking down. “After Rachel’s death, I’ve looked after Ella as a sort of guardian. Matilda probably resents Rachel and, by extension, targets Ella.”

“Since you already have your own conclusion, there’s no need to ask for my opinion.” Carl was quiet for a long while before he spoke again. “I just hope, Mr. Boyd, that you won’t live to regret

this.

Regret? Him?

Yvan grabbed a fresh glass and poured himself a new drink. “I won’t regret it. It’s not even possible,” he muttered, perhaps to himself.

But… when Yvan thought of the male voice he heard near Matilda earlier, he couldn’t help but feel an inexplicable surge of irritation.

She was clearly asleep, and at this late hour, sleeping next to a man.

The thought almost drove Yvan to the edge, wanting to burst in and drag them out of bed. Matilda had sworn she loved him five years ago, so why… why could she just leave now?

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She was utterly heartless and cruel!

Yvan downed his drink in one go, with Carl silently pouring more. Since Matilda had left, Yvan now relied on alcohol to fall asleep.

He dreaded dreaming of her face, so he kept himself intoxicated.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Matilda was the one at fault five years ago; she was the one who had cut ties with him completely. So why did he feel this way? This is from NôvelDrama.Org.

Where had it all gone wrong?

In a fit of anger, Yvan kicked over the bottle, spilling alcohol all over the floor, the acrid smell filling the air.

His eyes reddened with fury, and he threw his glass against the wall, shattering it into pieces. Carl stood by in silence, not moving to pick up the fragments..

“Just a woman… just a woman…” Yvan clenched his fists tightly. “What right does she have to accuse me? She’s the one rolling in bed with another man now!”

The mere image of Matilda with someone else was maddening.

What leverage did he still have to hold Matilda in the palm of his hand? What could he do to keep her from running away?

Ideas flickered through his mind, and suddenly, he turned to Carl, his voice trembling. “Find out where Matilda’s parents are hiding now!”