Chapter 701: Onistead'S Past
Chapter 701: Onistead's Past
Inside the enclosed and upscale golf course, the air conditioning was turned on, completely shielding the golfers from the winter chill.
Here, a sexy and tall woman wore a white low-cut dress that reached just above her knees, accentuating her curvaceous and shapely buttocks as she bent over.
Paired with knee-high white Martin boots, her legs appeared elongated, enhancing her graceful and slender figure. The woman held a golf club in her hand, aiming at a small hole on the golf course, and with a swing of her arms, the ball flew out, disappearing from sight.
She covered her eyes with one hand and glanced back, playfully pouting at the man behind her, trying to seek his attention. "Master Elias, look at my shot. It's gone missing," she coquettishly complained. However, when she turned around, she realized that the man behind her didn't pay her any mind at all. He sat with crossed legs on a chair, gently swaying a glass of red wine in one hand, and in the other, he held a diamond-studded mobile phone. He casually opened his mouth and said, "Tsk tsk, Darren, you finally remembered me. What's the matter? Are you not busy with work today, or is it that you don't miss your crush?"
In the end, he even made a sarcastic remark with her.
This resentful tone was just like that of a vengeful woman trapped in a secluded mansion, causing the woman's complexion to darken. Who is Darren? Could it be the legendary mysterious Master Darren? Wasn't it rumored that he was not welcomed by the Miller family and had been developing his career overseas all this time? Could it be that he had already returned to the country?
From the other end of the phone came a cold and icy voice, devoid of any warmth, "Stop your nonsense. I'll give you only ten minutes. Hurry up and come to my office."
"Ten minutes? So urgent? That's impossible. I'm outside right now, and besides, I've taken off my pants..."
"Beep beep beep..."
How infuriating! Benson actually hung up the phone.
As for his lie about being "busy" outside, it seemed that Benson didn't really care. Well, he decided to accept his fate and hurry over.
Damn it!
Indeed, ten minutes was truly impossible. After hanging up the phone, Master Elias immediately stood up from his seat and rushed towards the door of the café. "Master Elias!"
"Master Elias, where are you going?"
"Wait for me."
What's going on? How could he just leave her behind and go ahead? The woman looked bewildered at his departing figure and hurriedly chased after him in her high heels, but as soon as she took a step forward, she bumped into the corner of a table.
"Ouch! That hurts."Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.
She looked down and saw that her ankle was already swollen and red. The coach and the waiter who were waiting nearby, afraid that they would skip out on the bill, suddenly woke up and quickly approached to block the woman's path.
"Miss, you haven't paid yet."
"How much?"
Watching Elias' figure disappear at the corner of the street, she couldn't catch up anymore. She turned around and gave him a fierce glare, channeling all the anger she had been thrown off by Master Elias onto him.
"How much?"
"369 dollars."
As soon as the words fell, she took out her wallet from her handbag, opened it, and casually pulled out a thick stack of bills, proudly flipping her bangs in front of her forehead. "No need for change!"
August in Onistead was scorching like a steamer placed on a stove, with dark clouds piling up in the sky. The outdoor temperature soared to 39 degrees Celsius.
The weather forecast on the television station warned that a super typhoon, "Maria No. 1," would make landfall from the southwest today, bringing continuous rainfall for three days.
In preparation for the approaching typhoon, the meteorological department issued a warning to the citizens a week in advance, urging them to take protective measures. So, on this scorching day, people could be seen everywhere, rushing around with bags full of food.
Later, around three o'clock in the afternoon, the storm hit. The rose-patterned windows of the villa were left open, and they were rattled by the powerful wind. The gusts swept in, causing the white curtains to dance in mid-air.
The large villa remained dark, empty, and eerily silent, resembling a haunted house. Only in the living room, near the sofa, a small table lamp was left lit, casting a soft yellow glow.
This dim and hazy light illuminated a small corner and fell upon a voluminous red skirt. The vibrant color was enveloped in a faint golden halo, giving it a touch of antiquity.
The irregular hem of the red skirt trailed on the floor, revealing a slender pair of legs with visible veins, devoid of any flesh. As one's gaze moved upward, a thick white smoke blanketed her delicate and rose- like face.
Selah, the once radiant lady of Onistead, the heiress of the Edwards family, had now become painfully thin. It was heartbreaking to witness.
As the man approached, a gust of
night wind lifted the layer of white gauze, allowing a glimpse of the enchanting and delicate figure lying on the sofa. Her long hair was disheveled, her clothes were in disarray, and she wore vivid and elaborate makeup. Her fair hand trembled as she held a cigarette.
A flame lit up.
Smoke filled the air.
She lowered her head and took a deep drag, revealing a contented smile on her face.
It was faint, yet innocent.
It was a joyous expression, as if a child had received the cake they had longed for. But what she was doing at this moment was definitely not something a child could do!
Channing couldn't believe that his
beloved woman, Selah, had fallen into such a vulgar and heartbreaking state. If he had known that the first sight he would see after regaining his sight would be like this, he would rather have stayed forever in the darkness.
Out of sight, out of mind, rather than watching her degrade herself.
As Selah's gaze shifted and caught a glimpse of the tall figure in black, her actions instinctively froze. She released the cigarette butt.
The man's gaze made her feel insecure and ashamed. She wanted to escape, but her shoulder was firmly held by Channing's large hand.
He looked down at her, so thin that she resembled a lifeless porcelain doll, fragile enough to break at the slightest touch.
"Why did you take it? Do you even know what it is?"
He had never been this angry before. Not even when she had threatened him with suicide and forced him into a divorce had Channing displayed such a wrathful and icy gaze. Selah felt the pain in her shoulder from his grip, and her vacant eyes finally regained some spirit, albeit in the form of angry flames.
"Let me go!"
As she spoke, the "cigarette" she had been holding in her mouth fell to the ground, and the white shag carpet quickly burst into flames.
Boom!
Although it was in the day, the sky was pitch-black as if it were night.