apter 5
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Chapter 5
I took away the two remaining pieces. Though Gomoku was meant to be single–round, Rita smashed another piece onto her four–in–a–row chain.
“I also won!” Her petulant voice cracked like spoiled jade.
The silence stretched.
“Then…” My gaze lingered on her like moonlight on withered petals, “…shall I continue?” My fifth piece clicked decisively.
Sixty seconds later, the board was dominated by green stones. Rita’s trembling fingers hovered over barren
intersections.
“AGAIN!” Crimson flush crawled up her neck.
Round two. Three. Four.
I alternated between slow, deliberate moves and swift strikes, each victory carving deeper into Rita’s composure. When humiliated tears spilled down her cheeks, Julian’s hand shot out like winter lightning.
The chess box clattered as he snatched it away.
Rita flung herself into his arms, sobs echoing through the pavilion. Seraphina’s scolding pierced through the chaos-“Must you be so aggressive?“–but I no longer heard words, only the static buzz of dying fireflies.
Julian’s face blurred before me, a faded film reel. The boy who once glowed brighter than midsun now twisted into ash–gray decay.
Fine. Only twenty days remained. Let him rot.
Iscattered the remaining pieces across the board like casting funeral coins. Rising with imperial weariness, my trailing sleeve painted crimson arcs midair–only when courtyard wind kissed my fingertips did I notice crimson pearls blooming in my palm.
“Olivia!” Julian called me. His voice cracked with frostbite–sharp panic. But when he got up to chase me, Rita held his waist tightly and cried even harder.
I left the Shaw residence. Along the way, Julian kept calling, and I blocked him directly. Then, I sent a message to my mother–in–law: Give me 150 million! One penny less, I will let you pay a painful price!
Seraphine almost had a heart attack when she read the message.
I was driving down the road. At some point, the sky turned dark and it began to rain. My mind wandered. Suddenly, yellow motorcycle whizzed past me I got a fright and hit the brakes.
The news sessand there was a loud “bang” and my car was rear–ended, slamming my head into the steering wheel and a sharp pain spreading from my forehead I looked up and the rain–fogged world turned red. I wiped the blood from my eyes, realising that I was tear–ended and the motorcycle bad disappeared.
“Kek, kock the door rang I call down the window.
Outside da man in his fifties. He was wearing glasses and holding a black umbella.
He apologiand “Miss, I steerely apolugins for the rear–end collision We accept full responsibility. If you don’t mind, my employer in curtensly on a tight schedule Could we exchange coact beforation? Please and the repair invoice later, and res sealed well awoke the japone
“Let the traffic poler hare is Ny frayed nerves and after the Slumining the car door, I marched to inspect the dermed rear It was a feathery
< Chapter 5
Meny
The driver retreated to his car.“Sir, the lady insists on police involvement…”
The rain fell more heavily. The wiper rubbed the glass, and the rain soon covered it again.
Through the rain, I saw a man sitting back in his car. He watched me outside talking on the phone.
I was soaking wet. The rain fell on my eyelashes and then on my lips…
“Mr. Jones?” asked the driver.
The man put down his phone and looked at his watch.“Zach is on his way, I’ll go first. You stay and deal with it.” I got back in the car. A moment later the traffic police arrived, followed by a silver Maybach. Both cars stopped at about the same time. I got out and saw that in addition to the driver, a tall and handsome man got down, with cold white skin and deep eyes… He caught my gaze and looked back at me with sharp, threatening eyes. It was a familiar feeling…
“Give it to her.” The man handed his driver the suit jacket draped around his wrist and turned himself into the Maybach.
The driver walked up to me with the jacket.“Miss, your clothes are wet. Please put it on.” I looked down at my wet clothes, which were almost attached to my body. Feeling awkward, I took the jacket and put it on.“Thank you.”
The driver was talking to the traffic police. The Maybach started and disappeared into the rain and fog.
All I saw was a flash of his side face. The suit jacket still carried his body heat, the faint scent of sandalwood dispelling the coldness of the rain.
The traffic police made the ruling, and both of us agreed. The driver wanted to take me to the hospital, but I refused and apologized for my previous aggressive behavior. I told him that I was just in a bad mood.“Once the suit’s dry–cleaned, I’ll ship it over to you.”
The driver didn’t refuse.
I went to the hospital alone.
At this time, Julian received a notice of my accident.
