At this moment, I'm held tightly in his embrace, the familiar scent of his body piercing my heart with pain. I struggle to break free from his grip.
"Avery, from the moment I carried you out of that hotel, I knew I would never let you go," he declares.
Evan tightens his grip, pulling me closer as if he wants to meld us into one.
"Mr. Foster, aren't you afraid that the woman you love will be heartbroken?" I say mockingly. He had been publicly displaying affection just days ago, yet now he makes such intimate gestures toward me. It's disgusting.
"The woman I love is you," he retorts, grabbing my shoulders and shouting loudly.
I'm momentarily stunned, then my eyes fill with deeper scorn.
Suddenly, it goes dark before me as his large hand covers my eyes, and a warm, moist kiss lands on my lips. His deep, sensual voice resonates, "Avery, don't look at me with those eyes, I get scared."
You're scared, Evan? After all the bloodiest scenes you've enacted on me over the years, you claim to be scared? I don't believe it.
His tenderness now suggests Megan might be missing another organ, and he wants to cut it out of me again to present to that vile woman.
The mere thought makes me resist and despise him even more. I coldly ask, "Where are you taking me?"
"To meet someone."
His voice is exceptionally gentle and forgiving, contrasting with the icy disdain in mine.
My first thought is that he's taking me to see Megan. But as the car drives further into the desolate countryside, I grow uneasy and shout at him, "Where are you really taking me?"
"There are some truths you need to know," he says, his expression inscrutable and his voice faint.
I look at Evan skeptically.
Standing in front of a tombstone, seeing Megan's delicate smile engraved on it, I feel a moment of surrealism. The person I hated died during the three years I was away, and the truth he wanted to tell me was this!
I turn around, my face filled with hatred as I look at this man, whose face remains cold and indifferent. "Evan, why didn't you die with her? If it weren't for your protection of Megan, the police would have uncovered the truth long ago."
Evan remains unflustered, his gaze intense, his voice as chilling as the night wind. "What if I told you I never did any of what you're accusing me of, would you believe me?"
He reaches out to me, and I slap his hand away.
I burst out laughing, my face twisted with increasing hatred, and I snarl, "Don't play the saint, Evan. Megan said it was you who covered for her, dealt with the kidnappers, and helped her escape legal responsibility."
He looks at his hand that I've slapped away, a strange curve forming at the corner of his mouth. "Avery, you've finally admitted it. You're not pretending to not know me anymore."
Blinded by rage and covered in hatred, I had let down my guard and forgotten to pretend I didn't recognize him.
Hearing his tone, I know he won't let me off easily. Panicked, I turn to run, but he reacts quickly, grabbing my wrist. With a strong pull, I tumble back into his arms.
"Avery, let's stop this, shall we?"
He pleads humbly, his voice making me pause for a moment. Mr. Foster, who is unstoppable in the business world and commands respect from everyone, is now begging like this. If it were the old days, Avery would have fallen for a man who spoke softly to her, but the Avery who loved him dearly had already died in a fire that year.
