Chapter 46

Harry was already creeping along, just waiting for William's signal.

The moment he heard it, he cranked the wheel, slammed the gas, and the sports car roared to life.

When they got back to where they had been, Victoria was gone.

William pulled out his phone, stared at Victoria's number, hesitated, then dialed.

Meanwhile, Victoria was at the subway station, waiting for the train. Her clothes were a mess, and she was half-squatting, clutching her stomach in pain.

Then her phone rang.

She pulled it out, saw who was calling, and froze.

A bitter smile crept onto her pale face.

They were done, and now William wanted to call and rub salt in the wound?

Without a second thought, she hit reject.

After that, she blocked his number.

Today, she had played her part in the scheme and made back a hundred times what he had spent on her.

From now on, she wanted nothing to do with him.

William stared at the disconnected call, his brows knitting together, lips pressed tight.

Was Victoria out of her mind to hang up on him?

Harry glanced in the rearview mirror, saw William's stormy expression, and wisely kept his mouth shut.

The air in the car was so thick that it felt like you could hardly breathe.

William gripped his phone, anger bubbling up inside him.

He had swallowed his pride to come back for her and even called her.

How could she be so ungrateful?

Harry sneaked another look at William and cautiously asked, "Mr. Scott, should I take you home now?"

William shot him a frosty glare, and Harry clammed up, not daring to say another word.

William swallowed his anger and called Victoria again.

This time, he got a message saying the call couldn't go through.

His face darkened even more. He looked at Harry, an idea forming. "Give me your phone!"

Harry handed it over, and William quickly dialed Victoria's number.

The call connected, but she hung up again.

When William tried again, it wouldn't connect.

In a fit of rage, William hurled the phone at the windshield, shattering it.

The loud crash echoed in the car, then silence fell.

William clenched his teeth, veins bulging on his forehead.

'Damn Victoria! Blocking my number? Does she really think she's that tough? Let's see how she manages without my protection. What can her weak self do?'

"Drive!" William barked, his anger palpable.

Harry shivered, glancing sadly at his shattered phone.

Did William forget it was his phone?

And it was brand new!

Harry felt like crying but started the car in silence.

Victoria dragged herself home, exhausted.

It was dark, no lights on.

She didn't bother turning them on, heading straight to her easel and switching on the wall lamp.

The dim light cast shadows around the room.

She didn't change out of her dirty clothes or tend to her small cuts and bruises.

She picked up a charcoal pencil and started sketching.

She wanted to capture her sadness and frustration.

But more importantly, she wanted to convey her resolve to live well in her sketch.

Victoria lost track of time as she drew.

Her legs were numb, her wrist stiff, and she could barely hold the pencil anymore.

But when she saw the finished sketch, a faint smile of relief crossed her lips.

The drawing showed a dark forest with twisted trees, their branches tangled together like a giant cage.

The ground was littered with fallen leaves and dead branches, giving off a sense of decay.

In the heart of the forest, a white deer lay curled up, its fur a bit messy. It looked up at the blue sky with eyes full of emptiness and despair, but also a hint of hope and struggle.

Around the deer were broken mirror fragments, reflecting its shattered past. But on its back, a pair of magnificent wings were slowly growing. These wings were colorful and dreamlike, the feathers gently fluttering, ready to break free and soar into the sky.

Victoria put down the charcoal pencil, leaned against the drawing table, and let out a long sigh of relief.

She then stripped off her dirty clothes, tossed them in the trash, took a shower, and changed into clean pajamas.

She applied ointment to her wounds and drank some syrup to soothe her throat.

After all that, she collapsed into bed and fell asleep, exhausted.

The next morning, the warm sun broke through the clouds and shone on the roof.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains, chasing away the cold of the previous night.

Her body and throat still ached a bit, but it was nothing new for Victoria, who was used to getting hurt.

While she was washing up, she heard a knock on the door.

Elara came in with a bowl of oatmeal, concern in her voice. "Victoria, why did you come home so late again last night? I heard noises in the middle of the night."

She looked at Victoria's pale, tired face with worry.

Victoria felt a bit warm inside but held back her tears, managing to say, "Elara, don't worry. I just went out with friends yesterday."

Elara handed her the bowl and said softly, "That's good. I thought you had to work overtime at the gallery."

Victoria took the bowl, scooped up a spoonful of oatmeal, and ate it.

The sweet taste spread in her mouth, making her feel a bit better, even though her throat was still sore.

Victoria looked up and gave Elara a bright smile, hoarsely saying, "Thank you, Elara."

Elara gently patted her head and said, "No need to be formal with me. Eat it while it's hot. I spent a long time making it."

"Okay." Victoria nodded.

Watching Victoria eat breakfast, Elara felt a surge of affection.

She was such a good girl, so obedient and capable.

It was just a pity that Victoria had had some unfortunate family issues.

Elara looked around and noticed that it was almost winter, and Victoria still had thin bedding and sheets.

Victoria must be too busy with work to have time to change to thicker bedding.

Thinking of this, Elara said, "Victoria, it's been getting cold lately. If you don't mind, I can take out your winter clothes and change the bedding for you, okay?"

Hearing this, Victoria was momentarily stunned and quickly shook her head. "No need, Elara. I can take care of it myself over the weekend."

Elara scolded her gently, "You're being too formal with me. I see you as my own daughter. Are you going to distance yourself from me?"