Novel Update
Revenge 133
Revenge 133
Anderson stubbed out his cigarette and sauntered toward her. His eyes scanned her like she was an object, causing her enough discomfort to
look away.
The intense, chilly atmosphere surrounded her as he approached. It made Hailey hold her breath as she remained rooted to the spot.
“As a mistress, you should know your place. Go draw me a bath,” Anderson ordered. He then strode into her master bedroom without
hesitation.
“Andy, I’m sick. I need to go get painkillers,” Hailey protested.
“I don’t want to repeat myself.” His tone was oppressive and non- negotiable.
Reluctantly, Hailey followed him to the bathroom and began running the water while Anderson inspected her bedroom. He carefully observed the paintings hanging on her walls. Each one, painted by herself, showcased her talent.
With her talent, she could have really made a name for herself in the art world. Growing up, she had picked up various watercolor techniques yet ironically ended up in her least favorite field–public relations.
Hearing a commotion from the bathroom, Anderson turned back to see Hailey collapsed beside the bathtub while the hot water was still running.
Shane entered the room and calmly reported, “Everything’s been taken care of, Mr. Barlow.”
He then inquired indifferently, “And what’s up with Ms. Hailey?” Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.
“Don’t let her die,” Anderson stated coldly as he retracted his gaze.
“Got it, Mr. Barlow.” Shane nodded. Anderson could endure quite a lot for Mayra’s sake.
After Anderson left, he sat in the driver’s seat and heard a message alert
on his phone. He found out it was just spam. As he scrolled through his contacts, he came across a familiar name. The message history was brief, only spanning three days and ending on the 17th.
As night fell, Mayra scoured the nearby area to collect cardboard boxes. Upon returning to the garage, she heaved a sigh as she set the cardboard down. “I reckon another week of collecting should do the trick.”
She was dressed in sweatpants and a long–sleeved shirt. The small corner of the garage was nearly filled. Mayra tightened the rope around the cardboard. There were also two discarded refrigerators she had dragged back, which could fetch a decent price.
As a vehicle approached in the night, its headlights flashed across the yard. Anderson stepped out of the car just as the maid was making a late- night snack–tacos.
Hearing the front door open, the maid immediately stopped what she was doing. “Mr. Barlow, you’re back.”
Anderson tossed his keys onto the entryway table and asked, “Where’s Mayra?”
“Ms. Sandler is in the garage, organizing cardboard boxes.”
Mayra was taping up the flattened boxes, unaware of someone gradually approaching from behind. “Are you working late into the night on these?”
Looking up, Mayra’s eyes lit up as she saw Anderson. “Andy, you’re back. Look at all the stuff I collected today. It should fetch a good price,” she exclaimed.
“Come on, help me out or I’ll be here all night,” Mayra pleaded.