Chapter 449 Stubborn Woman
The incandescent light in the bathroom cast a hazy glow through the steam. I reached out to turn on the shower, and the metal handle was warm from my touch. The sound of water hitting the showerhead broke the silence, and the initial cold stream hitting the hollow below my collarbone made my shoulder muscles tense up, the graceful curve of my back rising and falling. Every inch of my skin screamed with exhaustion, but my trembling fingers stubbornly turned up the water temperature, as if the scalding water could burn away the chill in my heart, washing away all the scars and fatigue.
As the water temperature rose, tiny droplets trickled down my neck, tracing faint lines across my chest. The water washed away the blood and dirt clinging to the hem of my dress, turning into dark red rivulets that disappeared down the drain. Those murky streams mirrored my chaotic thoughts, but no matter how clean I got, the clouds in my mind wouldn't dissipate.
The crystal dress strap trembled at my fingertips as I undid the last hidden clasp, the torn zipper making a sound like a snake shedding its skin. As the fabric fell, the bruises on my lower back from the iron pipe stood out starkly against the firm muscles honed by years of fitness.
Looking at my scarred body in the mirror, I suddenly found it laughable. I once thought that with my skills and determination, I could hold my ground in the business world, unaware of the countless schemes lurking behind me.
The fresh scrape on my collarbone stung like salt in a wound under the hot water, the surrounding skin turning red, with faint blue veins visible underneath.
I let out a cold laugh, the pain making me more alert, reminding me that there was no turning back. Fiona's betrayal, Nicholas's schemes, and the uncertain fate of Edward and Anne were like heavy shackles, pinning me to this war.
If my mother were still alive, if she were in charge of the Cooper Group, how would she handle this? I suddenly missed my mother, the woman who lived a lonely life I never understood, now resting in peace underground.
The hot water flowed over my shoulders, and I tilted my head back, letting it wash over my tense neck. The water droplets from my hair slid down my neck, pooling at my collarbone, then down my slender arms, dripping into the white bathtub.
My memory flashed back to that critical moment in the warehouse, Edward pushing me to the ground, his urgent breaths in my ear, tinged with the smell of gunpowder and rust.
The scent seemed to linger in my nostrils, my heart aching sharply. If it weren't for me, Edward might have escaped faster. My fingers unconsciously traced the long scar on my chest, a mark left by acid thrown by a competitor years ago, now overlapping with new wounds, telling the story of the bloodless battlefield of the business world. No matter how many injuries I endured, I couldn't retreat, because behind me were Skylar, the Cooper Group, the Howard Group, and everything Nicholas coveted.
When I reached for the shampoo bottle, my bracelet clinked against the porcelain, the clear sound echoing in the bathroom.
This bracelet was a gift from Nicholas when he acknowledged me as his goddaughter. He had smiled and said, "Your wrist deserves something grand like this."
Now it dug into my skin painfully, leaving a red mark on my wrist. How ironic that what was once a reward had become an unbreakable shackle.
The citrus-scented shampoo foam covered my eyes, and I wiped my face haphazardly, my fingers brushing against the scrape on my brow. The foam mixed with water or tears slid into my mouth, tasting salty. Water droplets slid down my high nose, dripping onto my slightly red lips, glistening with moisture. I closed my eyes tightly, letting the foam sting my eyes, as if that could push back the emotions on the verge of breaking through. I couldn't be weak, couldn't collapse, even though my heart was already in tatters.
The water suddenly became turbulent, and I realized I had turned the temperature to the highest setting. The scalding water pounded my back, raising a fine spray, bouncing off my smooth skin. The pain briefly made me forget the torment in my heart, but as the steam fogged the mirror, the scars on my body became clearer: the red skin with throbbing veins, the messy wet hair clinging to my cheeks, outlining my sharp features, with a wary fire in my eyes. That look was both stubborn and helpless.
When I turned off the faucet, the remaining water slid down the grooves of my spine into the bathtub, creating tiny ripples on the surface, the previous noise giving way to silence. Wrapping myself in a towel, the person in the mirror finally regained some semblance of composure, but the wound on my chest, like an indelible mark, declared that this war had already begun. And I could only grit my teeth, dragging this exhausted body forward, because I had no other choice.
Stepping out of the bathroom wrapped in a soft towel, the steam was abruptly cut by the cold air in the hallway, water droplets from my hair falling onto my collarbone, causing a slight shiver. The chandelier in front of the mirror cast a warm yellow light on me, the unhealed wounds faintly red but no longer burning as before. The hot water had washed away the sticky smell of blood and temporarily dispelled the gloom in my heart.
I walked barefoot on the wool carpet, the plush fibers gently brushing against my feet, but it couldn't awaken any sense of sleepiness.
My phone vibrated on the nightstand, Melissa's message lighting up the screen:
"Mr. Howard wants to see you."
My heart skipped a beat, my fingers hovering over the reply box for a long time before I finally typed:
"I'll be right there."
The rain outside had stopped at some point, leaving only the streetlights casting broken reflections in the puddles. As I opened the wardrobe, the rustle of silk pajamas and suit jackets was soft, my fingers finally stopping on a charcoal gray turtleneck sweater. It was soft enough, yet firm enough, just like me at this moment.
As I changed, the bracelet slipped from my wrist, hitting the wooden floor with a crisp thud. Bending down to pick it up, I caught a glimpse of the red mark on my neck in the mirror, left by the dress strap, eerily similar in shape to the bracelet's curve. With a cold laugh, I shoved the bracelet into the deepest part of the drawer, the sound of the metal clasp closing like a signal of my complete break from the past.
My peripheral vision suddenly caught a shadow on the sofa, and my breath hitched. Jeffrey sat with his legs crossed, leaning against the beige leather sofa, his sharp suit clashing with the soft home environment, exuding a dangerous aura. The glow of his cigar flickered, the ash hanging precariously, as if he was deliberately waiting to see my panicked reaction.
"Didn't expect to see you here," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
Jeffrey took a slow drag from his cigar, the smoke curling around his face. "I could say the same about you," he replied, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. "You look like you've been through hell."
I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Just another day in paradise."
He chuckled, a low, menacing sound. "You always did have a way with words. But let's cut to the chase. Mr. Howard wants to see you, and you know how he hates to be kept waiting."
I nodded, my heart pounding. "Yeah, I know. I'll be there in a minute."
Jeffrey stood up, his presence filling the room. "Don't take too long," he warned, flicking the ash from his cigar onto the floor before turning and walking out.
As the door closed behind him, I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. This was it. The moment I had been dreading. But I couldn't back down now. I had to face whatever was coming, no matter how terrifying it might be.
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