Chapter 80
Outside the door, Matthew and Janice’s voices could be heard, and although it wasn’t clear, Victoria could listen to the tone that they were kidding around, but Janice seemed slightly annoyed.
She stretched out her palms, glanced at the thin calluses on her palm, and laughed lightly, but the laughter didn’t reach her eyes.
At 5.30PM, Vincent came with a bunch of food that she liked. “I went to a few places and was queuing up the whole afternoon to buy everything. Eat more of it.”
After he placed the food on the table, he handed her a set of cutlery and a food container before placing a bottle of white wine on the table.
“Why are you in the mood for a drink?” she asked casually. Her brother usually didn’t like alcohol as he found the taste horrible.
He suppressed the frustrations in his heart as he poured himself half a gla*s and finished it in a gulp. “I just feel like having some.”
As he wasn’t wearing his jacket and tie, his shirt opened up a little when he made a huge show of drinking, revealing a fingernail mark from the lower right side of his neck to his collarbone.
“Why do you have a scratch on your neck?” Victoria asked with a frown while setting aside the fork.
He was alarmed by her keen eyes, so he pulled his collar tightly and frantically wore a sheepish expression. “Why are you asking me when you’ve already seen it? We’re all adults. Can’t you guess how I got that scratch?”
“Vince.” Victoria stared straight at him with her dark, calm eyes.
He scratched his neck awkwardly as he mumbled, “Why do you seem like a changed person after two years in jail?”
“Don’t change the subject,” she warned.
It didn’t take long for a frustrated Vincent to cave since he had long wanted to complain to someone. Thus, he slammed the fork on the table angrily before telling her everything that happened today with some embellishment.
In the end, he furrowed his brows tightly and took a sip of wine. “And I really f*cking thought that Dad was going to seek justice for you. Oh, I’m so mad at this!”
“Bella is right,” Victoria said softly, sadness flashing across her eyes.
Vincent blurted, wholly puzzled, “Huh?”
“You don’t get why Dad changed his opinion so quickly, do you?” Victoria laughed self-deprecatingly. “That’s because Bella is right. Dad said so much about being oppressed the whole time, but more than that, he wanted them to know that he didn’t have it easy either.”
And that’s why Bella used the amusement park project to pacify Dad… she thought, snorting coldly.
It never occurred to her that her father would one day make use of her suffering to line his pockets.
The look on Vincent’s face kept changing until he finally looked forlorn and picked up the bottle as he drank straight from it; his tears mixed with the wine and flowed down his chin.
“Don’t drink so much. You’ll feel sick.” Victoria snatched the bottle from him and placed it on the table. Her heart felt like someone had splashed it with acid—riddled with holes, and it was so unbearable that she found it hard to breathe.
“Why, Tori?” Vincent balled his fists repeatedly as he choked on his words, “Mom and Dad used to dote on you so much before. So, why did they suddenly… become like this?”
Victoria drew out a few pieces of tissue and wiped away the tears and wine on his face. “You’ve been out for too long. Go home now. Mom, Dad, and Teresa will be worried.”
“I’m not going back! When I left the house today, I already told the old man that I’m not going back to the Coleman Family anymore!” Since he rarely drank, it was only natural for him to be unable to hold his liquor. Hence, his eyes were already starting to look gla*sy. “I don’t want to return to that heartless home again!”
She sighed softly and persuaded, “If you don’t return, what should Teresa and the kids do? Vince, you’re already an adult. Think before you act.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Spritz, they… Hic! They could believe Bella, that lying b*tch, but h-how could Mom and Dad not believe…” Before he could finish, he slumped over on the table and started snoring.
Victoria slipped out of the bed, endured the pain in her leg, and carried him to the side bed with a little difficulty before covering the blanket on him.
As she had done a lot of physical work in jail and in Delta Club, she had relatively strong arms now.
She took a few more tissues as she wiped his tear-streaked face tenderly amidst his drunken mumblings. Then, she staggered out of the ward and stood in a daze at a window in the corridor, looking out into the distance.
The darkness of the night was like a giant lurking beast, and the shadows of the jagged trees were its limbs, lurching at her with its teeth and claws.
“Why are you standing outside when you’re injured? Don’t you want your leg anymore?”
A slightly icy but incredibly familiar voice echoed behind her, and her body turned taut with tension. She immediately felt like she was in an ice cellar and her limbs were frozen stiff.
She turned to Christian, lowered her head and greeted respectfully, “Hello, Mr. Thatcher.”
Why is he here? she wondered.
He grunted in acknowledgment, and his gaze casually brushed past her injured right leg. His brows furrowed ever so slightly, but he didn’t say anything else.
His gaze felt so real and concrete, just like the golf club from the past, striking her leg hit after hit.
A thin layer of sweat formed on her nose, and her long lashes trembled in fear. The question—’What’s the matter?’—remained at the tip of her tongue for a long time, but she couldn’t bring herself to force it out of her throat.
She resented Lucas, Bella as well as Christian, but besides hate, she had more terror for Christian, and it was a fright drilled deeply into her bones.
“If you don’t want your leg anymore, just tell me. You don’t have to go through such a ha*sle.” Christian retracted his gaze and snorted softly.
“It’s not like that.” Victoria licked her dry lips as droplets of sweat rolled down the side of her cheek. “The room is too stuffy. I’m just here to open the window, but I’m returning to rest now.”
Afterward, she twirled around, ambled to her ward, and opened the window. When she was about to open the door to enter, she paused.
The man behind traced all of her steps and was now standing outside the ward too.
“Mr. Thatcher… May I help you?” Due to her lowered head, her short, uneven hair covered the scar at the end of her brow and only revealed her petite and pallid face.
Christian glanced down at her hair and was momentarily stunned by her abrupt question. “I’m a little thirsty and want to have some water inside.”
“I’m really sorry. The dinner was too salty, and I finished that little bit of water.” Victoria gripped the hem of her shirt, and her back was already drenched from fear.
A long time ago, the Coleman Family had already announced before Christian that they had cut off all ties with her, but her brother was now lying in her ward. Although she didn’t care about what would happen to the Colemans, she didn’t want to implicate Vincent.
He raised his brows in apparent disbelief, lifted her chin, and forced her to look at him. When she was made to look into his deep, unreadable eyes, she couldn’t help but tremble in fright.
“Victoria.” Christian held her chin and suddenly closed in on her. His stunning face enlarged before her eyes, and they were in such close proximity that she could even see the tiny hairs on his face clearly.
All of a sudden, her heart pounded so hard that it was about to beat out of her chest. She didn’t dare to look at him, so she lowered her gaze and took a step back with her right foot as she wanted to put a distance between them.
Unfortunately, he suddenly placed a hand on her and pulled her right back before him.
Their bodies touched, and their eyes met, but he was unable to hide the indifference in his eyes just as she couldn’t hide the panic in hers.
