Shattered Illusions: Love, Lies, and Redemption

Chapter 179

Lizetta bit her lip, “I just wanted to save Yoll, I thought…

Thought what? That I’d go soft on you? You think you can just show up, put on a little act, and I’d be at your beck and call?”

Lizetta’s unfinished words were effortlessly decoded by Remington.

And that just made him even more despicable. He saw right through her, just toying with her, and tears Welled up even more in Lizetta’s tightly shut eyes.

Remington was irritated by what he saw, his words growing sharper, “I only go soft for my sister and my wife. What are you now? Presenting yourself like some plaything, barely started and already blubbering? How low can you stoop!”

This was the girl he’d raised. Four years ago she’d been foolish enough to drug him, and now she hadn’t learned her lesson.

The thought that she’d rather degrade herself than return as Mrs. Dashiell made Remington wish he could crush her rebellious spirit.

Lizetta couldn’t handle the insults any longer. She opened her eyes, which were red with rage, “Yes, it was my fault! I’m low; I’ve learned my lesson. Oh, high and mighty Mr. Dashiell, can you let me go now? And stop acting like some debauchee who enjoys being seduced by my tricks!”

A vein throbbed on Remington’s forehead, and the hand on her waist suddenly clenched into a fist.

up off her and stood straight, saying, “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not that into women who throw

table. She feared there might be new developments from the police station, so she

left Jenny’s name. She had taken sleeping pills today, worried and restless; she had asked Jenny to consult the doctor. Lizetta

hung

she let out a sigh of relief, Remington’s probing voice came

clothes she

down her guilt and glared at Remington, her eyes red, “Do I look like I’m in any

slightly, but Remington’s scrutinizing gaze didn’t waver as he asked again.

went with for the prenatal checkup? Why is

again and casually replied, “Don’t know.”

bother making up a bunch of excuses, which seemed to

onto the couch. Exhausted, thinking. of Yolanda still at the police station and

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10:47

left the villa, scrolling through her phone contacts, considering asking Lucian for

stopped in front of her, and the driver, Christ, lowered the window, “Mrs. Dashiell, Mr. Dashiell asked me