Chapter 4. The Ghost Who Watched Her Suffer

"Ha ha." Lucien chuckled quietly, pressing his chest even tighter against her back. He said, "We go to the same school, so let’s ride together."

"No…"

Elowen tried to refuse Lucien’s request, but then she felt something of his pressing against her, making her choke and unable to say another word.

"You bitch, what do you think you’re doing?"

At that moment, Mrs. Rothschild’s shrill scream rang out, startling both Elowen and Lucien. She lunged forward, tore them apart, then shoved Elowen to the floor and shouted, "Bitch, how dare you seduce my son?"

Before the words had even finished, a hand swung down. Elowen squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the crushing slap from Mrs. Rothschild.

When Mrs. Rothschild saw Lucien stop her from hitting Elowen, she immediately shouted, "Why are you stopping me? I have to beat this little seductress to death! I let her live as a young lady of the Rothschild family and she still was not satisfied, yet she dared to seduce you! I have to beat her to death!"

Mrs. Rothschild flung Lucien’s hand away and grabbed Elowen by the hair, yanking hard enough to make her scalp burn with pain. Elowen could not hold back her tears as they streamed down her face. She clasped her hands over the top of her head in silent pleading, but Mrs. Rothschild hated her to the bone. There was no way she would show her any mercy.

She pinched Elowen’s arm viciously and cursed, "You shameless slut! The Rothschild family raised you all these years and this is how you repay me? You wretch, today I will ruin that face of yours!"

With that, she raised her sharp fingernails, ready to rake them across Elowen’s face. Elowen instinctively wrapped her arms around her head. Once again, Lucien stepped in to stop Mrs. Rothschild. He gripped her shoulders tightly and said in a low voice, "We are about to go to school. If outsiders see injuries on her face, it will damage your reputation and Father’s."

Only then did Mrs. Rothschild calm down a little, though her anger still simmered. It had not been easy for her to find her biological son again, and she could not allow Elowen, a thief in her eyes, to destroy her family.

"Go to school first," she said coldly. "Today I will not let her go. I need to beat her properly so she will not keep seducing men."

Lucien frowned, irritation filling his heart. What he hated most was people who disobeyed him. Without hesitation, he grabbed Elowen by the arm and dragged her toward the car.

Mrs. Rothschild hurriedly called after him, "Lucien, you have not eaten breakfast yet. Why are you leaving so early? Eat first. I will not hit her anymore."

Compared to beating Elowen, she cared far more about Lucien not missing a meal.

Lucien stopped. Seeing Elowen’s hair in complete disarray, he dragged her back into the house and said, "Go tidy your hair and wait. You will go to school with me."

Elowen nodded repeatedly. She stole a glance at Mrs. Rothschild and, seeing her glaring fiercely, she was so frightened that she hurried upstairs to her room.

Once inside, she collapsed over her desk and sobbed uncontrollably. She truly could not endure days like this anymore.

The ghost beside her had witnessed everything, yet he could only watch helplessly as she was beaten. Apart from causing small disturbances like knocking over a potted plant or shattering a vase, he could not even stop the blows that fell on her body.

The ghost silently cursed that shameless brat Lucien for daring to act but not take responsibility. Someone as cruel and despicable as Lucien only knew how to take pleasure in tormenting a girl. He was not worthy of being called a man.

If he could possess someone’s body, the first thing he would do would be to beat that bastard Lucien senseless.

Watching the small girl continue to cry softly, the ghost raised his hand and placed it gently on her back in comfort. Then he mocked himself for being childish. He was only a ghost. How could she possibly feel his consolation?

Yet Elowen truly felt a cool sensation against her back. She immediately straightened up and looked around. Seeing no one, she quietly thought that she must be having hallucinations again.

After crying for a while, Elowen took a deep breath, tidied her hair, and slowly walked downstairs. Just then, Lucien had finished breakfast, and the two of them rode to school together.

On the way, Elowen kept her head lowered and said nothing. In truth, she was overwhelmed with fear, because her situation at school was no better than it was at home.

Everywhere was hell to her.

Lucien noticed that Elowen was trembling. A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes as he placed his hand on her thigh and gently kneaded it.

Elowen clenched her teeth and endured it, not daring to resist. But the spirit beside her could not stand it any longer and blew a cold breath against the driver’s neck, causing him to lose control of the steering wheel and swerve wildly.

The car shook violently, and both Lucien and Elowen hurriedly grabbed their seat belts.

When the car finally steadied, Lucien frowned and asked, “Harris, what’s wrong with you?”

The driver recalled what had just happened and felt his heart pounding in fear. He quickly explained, “My neck suddenly felt icy cold just now. I got startled and lost control of the wheel.”

Hearing that, Elowen immediately lifted her head. A trace of suspicion flashed through her deep blue eyes, but she quickly lowered her gaze again to hide her emotions.

After the incident, Lucien lost interest in teasing Elowen. The two of them sat in silence all the way to school.

At Summerfield High School.

This was the most prestigious private school in the capital. The students here were either children of powerful tycoon families or top academic elites, and the annual tuition reached hundreds of thousands of dollars.

Lucien had originally been studying at a specialized mathematics academy, but Mrs. Rothschild did not want him to suffer any grievance at an ordinary school, so she paid to transfer him into Summerfield High School in the middle of the semester.