Chapter 101: a naively cruel guy

Lucca pov

I drifted in and out of sleep, the dimming light of day gradually fading into slumber, only to awaken again moments later. This pattern repeated itself. When I awoke for the last time, the sunset resembled blood.

Vincent wasn't by my side.

The psychologist had arrived. She was a gentle middle-aged woman, speaking in soothing tones. Unlike my previous therapists, who often focused on teaching me "what to do," this woman seemed more interested in simply listening. I had remained silent, but she didn't appear to be frustrated.

"I'm not a specialized psychologist," the middle-aged woman began, her voice filled with warmth, "but I've been working in women and children's support organizations for twenty years."

The implication was clear: she had encountered many individuals like me. I glanced towards the corner of the room, not particularly eager to engage.

The middle-aged woman rolled up her sleeve, revealing her fair skin and a rather beautiful rose crown tattoo on her forearm.

"A tattoo?" I raised an eyebrow.

"No," she chuckled, reaching for my hand. I flinched slightly but soon felt the contact of her skin against mine. Beneath the crown, there was a ring of uneven scars.

She told me, "My ex-husband injured my hand. After it was stitched up, there remained this conspicuous ring of scars. It's been a reminder. Back then, I saw my fair share of therapists too."

I couldn't help but listen intently, even reaching out to touch the gruesome scar.

"Doctors told me it wasn't my fault," I commented, tracing the horrific scar with my fingers, "that it was my ex-husband's fault and that I shouldn't be ashamed, that I should face it bravely. So, I tried that. I exposed the wound."

"And then?" I inquired.

"Well," the therapist continued with an easygoing tone, "it didn't go well. People kept asking me, 'Where did you get that scar from? Was it your ex-husband?' They'd say what a terrible person he was! So, every time someone saw this scar, I felt compelled to unravel it and recount my unfortunate marriage story. It was even more painful than when my ex-husband inflicted it."

My gaze wandered.

The therapist followed my gaze into the distance.

"Sometimes, you don't have to be brave just to prove yourself. When you feel like running away, it's okay to run. So later on, I got a crown tattooed on my hand. It looks nice, and I'm happy."

Still, I didn't respond.

"I'll come to see you again tomorrow," the therapist smiled and bid me farewell.

I sat silently on the edge of the bed. After she left, I noticed a silver-haired figure outside. It was one of the young Lycans from the pack.

Rino cleared his throat and asked coldly, "How is she?"

"Are you referring to the patient?" I replied.

Rino nodded.

I informed him about my session with the therapist and the doctor's revelations.

I was now sensitive, fearful, and bewildered, experiencing severe stress reactions. Rino listened intently, and then he walked over to the hospital room.

He pushed the door open.

I had just climbed onto the bed and pulled the thin blanket up to my knees. My shins were taut, and my thighs and the area just above had just the right amount of flesh.

It accentuated my waist to make it look even more slender.

If someone were to grab me from behind, it would probably feel good... Wait, what was he thinking?

Rino suddenly remembered that I had been his early adolescent fantasy. Later, he had indulged in plenty of beauty within the Republican pack and had completely forgotten about me. Now, all of a sudden, he seemed somewhat intrigued.

"You're finally awake," he said.

I raised my eyes to meet his gaze. He leaned against the door, his shirt loosely hanging, and the low-rise pants with a gaudy chain on them made his abs look slender and fierce with their deer-horn contours.

"Sorry," Rino shrugged, "I didn't know they would dare to touch you. You're not hurt, are you?"

I shifted my gaze away and slowly shook my head.

"Has anyone violated you?" Rino asked again.

The story the therapist had just told was too fitting. Whenever I tried to show strength, someone would always keep poking at my scars.

"Why ask that..." I said, my voice a bit hoarse.

"If someone touched you, Father would definitely be very angry," Rino pondered something.

I felt like he was worried about getting scolded by his father.

"Ah, if he doesn't want you anymore, what's your plan?" Rino sighed, "Or maybe I should sneak you out and take you to the Republican pack. Consider it an apology."

I stared out of the window in silence.

"What do you think?" Rino raised an eyebrow.

"I think you should leave," I replied.

I saw Vincent returning.

Vincent pov

Rino quickly leaned over to the window, saw me entering the medical station, and hurriedly escaped out of the door, only to bump into the person he was trying to avoid.

I saw my youngest son coming out of Lucca's room, his pupils trembling slightly.

A surge of volatile emotions pressed against the edge of his mask, ready to overflow.

My hand tightened around the staff, and my tone was icy.

"Why are you here?"

"Uh..."

"I remember telling you to stay put yesterday."

"You only said not to leave the estate. This is still inside the estate..."

I was accustomed to Rino's stubborn arguments, but I had never been this angry before. I had always believed that with Rino, instilling fear in him was enough.

When he was scared, he wouldn't dare to do anything wrong.

But I had overlooked one thing—when Rino wasn't afraid, he would dare to do anything.

He lacked internal self-restraint, relying solely on more authoritative figures to impose external constraints on him.

This didn't change his fundamental nature.

He was a naively cruel guy.

"Rino, don't abuse your privileges like this," I said sternly.

I approached him, and Rino nervously stepped back. He was nearly as tall as me now, but in front of me, he still trembled, frightened, and immature.

My brows were cold and my lips curved with mockery as I spoke, "Your clothes belong to me, your place to live is provided by me, and you go to school because of my assistance. From that perspective, what's the difference between you and her? Oh, right, your grades are worse than hers..."

Rino's face turned pale. He could never have imagined that I would compare him to a rogue like this.

"Father! I'm not some lowly rogue..."

"You should watch your words, my child," I tapped the staff on the ground.

Lucca, who had been absentminded, suddenly twitched slightly. I glanced at her and signaled Rino to leave and speak outside.

Standing by the door, I warned my young son, "If you ever lay a finger on her again, it's also because I gave you such privileges. Now, I'm revoking those privileges, and you shouldn't appear in front of her anymore."

"But..." Rino was still unwilling to accept this.

In his mind, I was powerful, noble, and flawless. How could I speak up for a rogue like her? No, something was wrong. Lucca must have bewitched me.

Rino's face turned red, and veins bulged on his forehead.

"Yes, everything I have is because of you! My thoughts and beliefs are what you've instilled in me. I believed without a doubt that rogues are property and that they are lowly because you told me so. Now you want me to..."

"Calm down," I interrupted him with my deep, steady voice even at the peak of his sharp tone.

"I want you to stay quiet in your room until the start of the school term. I need to come up with a plan to deal with you."

Rino left the medical station in a fury, his hot breath turning into white mist in the cold wind.

Father was the ultimate traitor! A liar! Just like Raffle, a two-faced scoundrel!

After Rino left, I returned to the room to check on Lucca.