A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Chapter 129

“Mat.”

The man’s call was crisp and sharp, like a gust of wind that swiftly ends, cold and biting.

Matilda’s eyes twinkled with a mirthful red, “Mr. Boyd.”

She finally mustered the courage to face him.

As Yvan stepped forward, Matilda retreated, their silent standoff palpable. She warned, “Mr. Boyd, any closer, and you’ll be invading my personal space.”

Yvan halted not far from her, his smile laden with unspoken intent. “I’ve been closer before.”

“But I’ve forgotten that.” Matilda deftly parried his advance, her laughter reminiscent of an innocent, oblivious child. For a moment, it seemed as if time had rewound to the startling beauty of their first encounter.

Yet she asked, “Did you call my name for a reason, Mr. Boyd?”

So distant and detached.

his glass as if he were clenching

out a few syllables,

I hadn’t, I’d

laugh was sharp as ice, a dance upon the blade’s edge, ready to embrace destruction at any second, yet

brows slowly gathered a shadow. In a tone

had heard the world’s

and said, “Yvan, it’s far too late to talk about hate. You’re not worthy of that question anymore.”

center of attention five years ago, and now, upon her return, she easily captured the

has reached a dead end, a point where it doesn’t even matter anymore. To me, you

forward, gracefully passing

the arms of another man who happened to pass by, saying, “The poison has seeped into the bones; there’s nowhere left to go. You ask if I hate you? Of course I do. As

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Chapter 129

I later hated you.

smile was that of a

devil named Hatred had devoured her reason; when Yvan shattered her remaining warmth, a person in despair fears

nothing left to lose,