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Chapter 4

Author: Liora
Panic seized me, the plea for help stuck in my throat. Clenching my teeth through the tremors racking my body, I forced out the words, “Wrong number.”

On the other end, Casey let out a sneer. “Then don’t waste my time.”

The line cut off the next second.

I sat there in a daze until midnight, when Luke’s call came through and gave me the chance to ask for help.

“I can’t move right now… Can you call an ambulance for me?”

I was sent to the hospital. After several rounds of therapy, I barely regained some feeling in my arms and legs, but my movements were still slow and heavy. My condition was deteriorating.

After much thought, I decided to settle my debt with Luke while I still had some strength left.

The only thing I could sell that was worth anything was the birthday gift Casey had bought me when I was 16. I brought that old necklace to a secondhand shop and quietly bargained with the shop owner.

“It was expensive when it was first bought. Could you maybe take it for a higher price?”

The shop owner rolled his eyes. “This outdated style? The most I can offer you for it is 30,000."

I did the math with my fingers. My medical bills and lodging had long drained my savings.

“Please, 35,000. I’m begging you.”

Just then, a deep, icy voice came from behind me.

“Has the piece I ordered arrived?”

The shop owner's expression changed instantly, breaking into a fawning smile. “It just arrived. I was about to call you to pick it up!”

Casey walked forward.

Victoria’s gaze landed on the necklace in my hand. She hesitated, then tugged lightly on Casey’s sleeve and turned to me.

“Cora, I really like that necklace… Could you sell it to me?"

"I’ll let you have it at the price of 35,000 dollars.”

Casey’s brows furrowed, his tone turning cold. “Victoria, don’t buy secondhand jewelry. It’s filthy.”

His words froze me where I stood.

Victoria was quickly ushered into the back room to try on her necklace.

Casey lingered. I shoved down my pride, took the 30,000 from the shop owner, and sold the necklace.

Casey's stare weighed on me until I could hardly breathe. I grabbed the money and hurried out, immediately calling Luke. Before I could even hang up, Casey appeared in front of me, his expression dark and stormy.

I had already pushed my body to its limit. Each of my muscles was weak and trembling. Afraid he would notice, I lowered my head, intending to slip past him quickly.

However, his hand shot out, seizing my arm. Through gritted teeth, he hissed, “You like sending your money to Luke that much? That dog who single-handedly sent your father to prison? Do you really believe he won’t bite you next?”

Everyone in the circle knew it was Luke who had struck the final blow, shoving Charles onto the trial stand.

I stayed silent, and Casey let out a mocking laugh.

“Or is it that you want him to appeal for Charles?”

My legs wobbled. I tried to pull away, my voice cold. “This has nothing to do with you.”

However, he gripped my wrist, refusing to let go. He sneered under his breath, “You’re right. It doesn’t. But watching you fall apart makes me feel good. Oh, and here’s some news. Luke’s been kicked out of his firm. Did you know?”

My face went pale. I snatched out my phone and called someone from Luke’s former firm.

The reply came in a calm tone. “He resigned at the beginning of the month. He mishandled a key document in Commander Casey's case, got reported by the client, and was struck off the roster.”

My world spun. My body tilted sideways until I caught myself against the wall. My voice shook from suppressing my anger.

“Whatever’s between you and me has nothing to do with Luke!”

Casey’s eyes turned ice-cold. “Nothing to do with him? How many years did he spend laundering Charles' dirty money? And when things went south, he turned on him and threw him in jail.

“Luke is a greedy, cunning, and despicable dog. Yet you still stay around him. Doesn’t being with him make you sick?”

His words cut too deep. I could not hold back anymore and raised my hand to slap him. However, before I could swing, he caught my wrist in midair. His grip was merciless, the pressure of his joints crushing into my veins.

Through clenched teeth, he said, “Cora, what makes you think you have the right to hit me?”

My head roared, the world spinning violently. My symptoms were striking, and my vision blurred. Instinctively, I clutched the front of Casey’s shirt.

Through the haze, I saw his expression shift in an instant—panic flooding his face.

“What’s happening to you?”
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