Quick Transmigration: Her Seduction Games - Chapter 18
Surprise! Surprise!
—
“Where is she?” He asked while loosening his necktie, the sound of the car closing later followed.
“At the cellar, sir.” Rembrandt’s jaw clenched. This little girl… always cause him headaches. He rubbed his temple. For a while, longing engulfed his soul. “…and already wasted at the moment.”
“No one stopped her?” He’s been enduring the conduct of this problem child for a few months now.
“She threatened them with a broken bottle, sir.”
Hmm, what punishment is befitting for a naughty and gutsy child?
“They should’ve cut her arm.”
The driver slash bodyguard stays silent. Sometimes, their boss let out a joke that doesn’t fit the atmosphere. The best thing to do when this rare phenomenon happened is to ignore it.
Although it was rush hour, the drive on the way home didn’t take them long. Rembrandt went directly down the cellar. Mr. and Mrs. Ambrose wasn’t at home at the moment, so the people who can stop this gone nuts girl lessened.
The door was locked from the inside. But he’s in the possession of master key, so he was able to barge inside the cellar smoothly.
He was just at the entrance yet the stench of a hard liquor already invaded his nostrils. This caused Rembrandt’s forehead to scrunch. This probably came from the smashed bottle.
His heavy footsteps reverberated inside the cramped space as he walked towards the stall, and there he saw a little girl who was trying it’s best to stay conscious, in front of her stands a bottle of whiskey, however, the broken bottle was nowhere to be seen.
Dana let out a snort then lifted her right hand in attempt to scratch her throat. His eyes dimmed, with a fluid motion, he stopped her disobedient hand. This action, he did this numerous times before. Because the soft hands that he always held in his palms has sharp fingernails that cause her a tiny injury every time.
While holding the delicate wrist on his palm, a thought appeared in his head, ‘Why does he occasionally treat this child as her?’
—
Ingrid drowned herself with liquor. Her heart was heavy. The emotions that she tried so hard to hide deep inside her heart keep fluctuating, seemingly trying to burst out. She bit her lower lip, as Rembrand’s eye color affects her more than she could handle.
Brought by too much drinking, her throat is starting to itch, she wants to scratch it but before she did, her hand was obliterated.
“Who dar—” Her raspy words was stuck in her throat, when in her blurry eyes, Ingrid saw a silhouette of a man.
It’s occurring again, she’s seeing that guy on another man again, when in fact, this man is quite burly, unlike the lean him, this man gives off a commanding aura, unlike the homely him. Yet… why, why is it in her eyes, she always saw the very image of him?
That man, she hates him so much that her hand was itching to stab him deep in his heart–for him to feel the same agony that she felt, and then twist the knife–for him to feel the same heartache she endured when he cruelly rip her heart to pieces.
That face loomed in. He’s right in front of her, so she should do what she promised to do right? She doesn’t have a knife but she had a hand that can hit him senseless. She removed her arm from that man’s grip, then tried her best to slap that man’s cheek. But when her hand landed on that cold skin, she shivered. Electricity ran on her back, her mind went blank, and then slowly, her hand crawled towards that man’s nape, pulled him closer, then caught his lips for deep, punishing kiss. And unknowingly, she silently bursted into tears.
And at this moment, Ingrid knew that the heaviness in her heart was not caused by her anger but instead caused by her intense longing for him. She, don’t want revenge… her wish was just to stupidly go back in that man’s loving embrace.