A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Matilda stood abruptly, her very posture screaming indifference. Her every action was a testament to her deep resistance to all things related to Yvan.

As she took her first step towards the exit, Yvan’s voice, laced with amusement, floated from behind her, “Matilda, you’re not actually scared of me, are you?”

Her shoulders tensed violently, her fingers clenched into fists. She spun around, meeting Yvan’s piercing gaze with a tremor in her chest, and retorted almost instinctively, “Cut the crap, Yvan. I don’t want to share a room with you, and it sure as hell isn’t because I’m scared.”

Without a backward glance, she strode away, her steps light but decisive, her words hitting the air like a lead weight, heavy with loathing, “It’s because you make me disgusted!”

Yvan stood there, momentarily shaken by her blunt declaration.

Disgusted by him? What gave Matilda the right to be disgusted?

After Matilda had disappeared, Mason whistled softly from his seat and quipped in an icy tone, “Well, you made her leave. Happy now?”

Yvan turned a cold glare toward Mason, “I’ve warned you countless times.”

“Yeah, you’ve warned me.” Mason chuckled, “But from what stance, Yvan?”

Mason’s question left Yvan speechless. All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

“I’m quite taken with Matilda, even if it’s just a budding fondness for now.” Mason dabbed at his mouth with a napkin and locked eyes with Yvan.

A predatory glint surfaced in Yvan’s eyes, and Mason let out a slow smile as he watched the menacing intent in his gaze, “Or is it that you still have a torch for her, Yvan?”

The phrase hung in the air, and Ella, who was nearby, visibly paled.

Who was that woman? No wonder Yvan’s demeanor had shifted so dramatically upon her approach – it was all because of Matilda’s presence!

Ella’s fingers tightened, and as Mason stood up, her face twisted into a coquettish plea, “Mason.”

“Ella,” Mason turned to her with a smile, “I know what you’re thinking, but some people are untouchable.”

His words weren’t meant to imply that Ella couldn’t go after Matilda because Mason was protecting her. No, it was Matilda herself who was unassailable.

Matilda had eyes as clear as a mountain stream, utterly unlike Ella who relied solely on men’s favor.

Matilda was in a league of her own, far above any comparison with Ella. So, in every way, Ella would never measure up to Matilda.

After delivering his piece, Mason called over the waiter to settle the bill. Passing by Yvan, he grasped his wrist firmly.

“Some people need to be felt with the heart.” He said, “Everything you thought your saw in your eyes might have been an illusion.”

Yvan’s pupils contracted sharply as Mason whispered, “I’ve dug up some leads from five years back. If you’re interested, meet me at Tiger Pub this weekend.”

The two men exchanged a silent understanding before parting ways.

As Mason walked away, Yvan’s gaze sank heavily, his eyes deep as a universe shrinking into a singularity where all light was devoured. He composed himself with poised silence, his handsome features as striking as ever, yet a layer of frost seemed to settle upon his visage.

Leads from five years ago?