Chapter 23
Franklin knew that women could change moods faster than a summer storm. One second, she was crying in his arms, the next, she’d shattered a glass vial and was cutting her wrist.
His breath caught as blood speckled the floor—Elizabeth, resolute, inflicting harm in front of him.
Lawson had never visited Shiny Estate this frequently before. He made an exception because of Elizabeth.
As dark clouds gathered above, shadows veiled Franklin’s face. He heard footsteps approaching but didn’t bother to look up. He only noticed a crying figure quickly rise from beside him and walk over to hide behind Lawson.
“I want to go home. I can’t stay here any longer,” Elizabeth insisted, the bandage on her wrist part of her act.
Lawson was furious. “What’s the deal now?” He glanced between Franklin, who was silent, and Elizabeth, whose eyes were red and swollen, and he could guess what had happened.
“He insulted me and hit me.” Elizabeth clung to Lawson as if he were her savior. Squeezing his wrist hard, she said, “I’m leaving today, even if it’s in a body bag.”
There seemed to be a sly grin in the somber air.
Franklin finally met her gaze, his face and neck marred by marks–teeth, nails, a dried trail of blood along his jawline. “Who was the real victim?” he asked, his voice steady.
“Frank, what happened to your face?” Lawson noticed the injuries and asked.
Those injuries looked startling.
Franklin casually blinked, turning to look at Elizabeth who was contemplating quietly. “Why not ask your poor sister?”
Their
eyes focused on Elizabeth, who seemed dispirited. Her nails were almost digging into Lawson’s skin. Due to tension, her voice quivered.
“He tried to undress me. I refused, and then he hit me… I had to fight back,” she sobbed, her words sincere. Elizabeth wasn’t sure if her acting was convincing, but she knew her tears would move Lawson, so she raised her head with her eyes glimmering with tears. “Lawson, if I stay here any longer, I’ll end up dead.”
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Chapter 8
Lawson, never one to handle a woman’s tears well, was moved, especially with the signs. of struggle on Elizabeth–finger marks on her neck, disheveled clothes, swollen lips.
“Frank, is she telling the truth?” Lawson asked
Franklin didn’t bother to explain. When Elizabeth was causing a scene carlier, he did think of using some special methods to control her. He calmly said, “I didn’t hit her.” It was true that he didn’t hit her, but he did do something indecent.
Lawson, caught in the middle, took Elizabeth’s side. He held Elizabeth’s hand and shielded her behind him. “She needs a good lecture from me. I’ll take her home for that. Let’s all cool it down.”
Franklin’s mood darkened at Elizabeth’s sigh of relief. Then he said firmly, “I don’t have time to deal with her drama. If she leaves now, she’s not coming back.” This was his final warning.
Lawson was left speechless as he tried to find a way to smooth things over, but Elizabeth refused to let go. “I must leave here today,” she said with a fierce determination in her
red eyes.
She looked lost, with tears and longing in her eyes. Lawson just couldn’t ignore that.
She moved quickly down the deserted path, wearing only a torn, light yellow nightgown, the threads rough against her skin as she swiftly moved forward to keep up with Lawson.
Suddenly, Lawson stopped, his arm raised as if to strike, but at the last moment, he simply tapped her forehead gently.
Just as she began to relax, she heard Lawson’s voice, filled with disdain. “Stop with those fake tears. Not done with the act yet?”
Sniffling, Elizabeth held back her tears. Then she extended her hand as her expression changed. “Got a cigarette?” she asked.
“Why?” Lawson asked.
“To celebrate,” she said, her eyes sparkling with a newfound freedom. “Three years of hell, and I’m finally free. Time to celebrate.”
