Chapter 115
My arm was wrapped in several layers of bandages, with a few small spots of blood visible through the gauze.
I knew the sight was a bit shocking, but it was nothing compared to the scars Lirian himself bore.
I had seen them in our past lives, marks of battles he’d survived, some even threatening his life.
But despite the relative minor nature of my injury, Lirian’s face remained stern, as if he were facing something far more serious.
The memory hit me with a cold, unrelenting force.
I’m back to the kind of life I had in my last life, where the corridors of the school became a battleground.
I remembered the bruises, the whispers, and the taunts orchestrated by Linda.
She seemed to delight in spreading rumors, pushing others to do her bidding, while she stood on the sidelines, watching with a twisted satisfaction.
Each day, I came home covered in bruises, feeling smaller and more isolated than ever.
That day, though, something different happened.
I’d barely made it through the front door when I ran into Lirian. He was there with a message, his expression so serious that I almost forgot the ache in my arms and the dull pain in my side.
“Ethan asked me to look after you tonight,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “He’s working late at the
office.”
Lirian took off his suit jacket, tossing it over a chair, and loosened his tie.
There was a look in his eyes that froze me in place–a coldness, a steely glint that hinted at something darker, something dangerous.
His gaze moved over me, catching sight of the fresh bruises on my arms. His lips tightened, and I
could see the anger boiling just beneath the surface.
He looked at me, and without any need for explanation, he understood. “Sophia,” he said, his voice a
growl. “You don’t deserve this.”
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Chapter 115
I swallowed, unsure how to respond,
there was a fierceness in Lirian’s presence that intimidated me, but it also felt strangely protective.
“Don’t worry,” he said, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “Revenge? That’s something I can
handle.”
Lirian wasn’t like Ethan, who was all propriety and self–restraint, bound by an aristocratic decorum that left little room for raw emotion.
No, Lirian was different. He grew up in the slums, fought his way through life with a fierceness that
was hard to contain.
That grit, that untamed side of him, made him someone you didn’t want to cross.
That night, he found the gang of bullies in a seedy bar nestled deep in the heart of a nightclub. He told me to stay outside, but curiosity got the better of me.
I slipped in behind him, blending into the shadows, barely breathing as I watched him confront the boys who’d been taunting me.
At first, Lirian looked like any other man lounging at the bar, a casual smirk on his face as he lit a cigarette. But when one of the bullies got close, that smirk faded.
He leaned in, grabbed the guy by the collar, and then calmly pressed the lit cigarette to his cheek.
The boy screamed, writhing in pain, but Lirian only chuckled, his expression both terrifying and strangely amused.
“You think it’s funny to pick on someone like Sophia?” he asked, his voice smooth and mocking.
With a final flick of the cigarette, he dropped it to the floor and looked at me.
“Sorry,” he murmured, loud enough for me to hear. “Sophia doesn’t like it when I smoke.”
I stood frozen, watching as he proceeded to deliver a brutal lesson to each of them. He moved with at calculated fury, each strike efficient and fierce.
And when his shirt got in the way, he tore it off, revealing a chest and arms covered in scars, each one a reminder of the life he’d left behind. I couldn’t look away.
The Lirian I knew–the soft–spoken man who brought me tea when I had a cold and who quietly stood beside me–was gone.
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This was someone else entirely, a man capable of unimaginable ruthlessness.
When he finished, the boys lay scattered across the floor, groaning in pain.
Lirian wiped his hands and walked out, finding me exactly where he’d left me, standing in awe just outside the doorway.
He raised an eyebrow. “Revenge,” he said with a casual shrug, as if the whole ordeal was nothing more than a casual errand. “Next time, tell me instead of hiding it. I told you I’d protect you for as long as I live.”
