Chapter 214 Chapter 214
Linda had done her homework on Marcus Drews before deciding to become his mistress.
Marcus was rich, powerful, and the sole heir to the Drews empire. On paper, he was the perfect catch.
But in reality, few women with any sense of self-preservation dared to approach him.
Everyone in the elite social circle knew: this Young Master had a terrible temper. He didn't just have a “short fuse”; he had violent tendencies and serious anger management issues.
It was said that if there was no one around to restrain him when he lost his temper, he could kill someone with his bare hands.
There was a grim rumor from his youth: during a trivial argument, he beat a boy into a vegetative state.
Since he was a minor at the time—and the Drews family had lawyers and unlimited money—the case was hushed up with a million-dollar settlement. There was no arrest. There was no criminal record.
But the damage was done. It was said that his psychopathy had never been treated.
Seeing the murderous look in his eyes now, Linda realized he was about to cross that line again.
Fear overcame greed. She didn't dare say anything else. She turned and ran out of the store, fleeing as if her life depended on it.
The store employees stood frozen, trembling, witnessing the scene.
Marcus Drews didn't even look at the fleeing woman. His eyes were fixed on Caroline, cold and calculating.
“You think you can take me on?” he said, his voice icy. “Caroline, I'm not Nicholas. I'm not blind.”
He took a step forward, invading her personal space.
“Nicholas is under your spell now. He won't listen to reason. But don't think you've won. I see who you are: a cheap social climber. I'll be watching you. If you dare do anything to hurt Nicholas... I'll destroy you.”
Caroline was speechless.
Sometimes she wondered what Marcus Drews' psychiatric diagnosis was.
From their first meeting, he had treated her like a criminal. He had created a narrative in his head where she was the seductive villain who had deceived the poor, innocent billionaire Nicholas Wolf.
The irony was bitter.
She only married Nicholas because she was coerced. Nicholas used Sara's life as a bargaining chip. She was the victim of blackmail, not the perpetrator!
But why did his wealthy friends automatically assume that she had masterminded the plan?
Just because she was poor? Just because she didn't have a famous last name?
At that moment, Caroline's patience ran out.
A smile of pure disbelief and anger appeared on her lips.
She knew the world was unfair. She knew the elite despised the lower classes.
But to be repeatedly insulted by a man she barely knew, based on his paranoid delusions? She couldn't take it anymore.
She owed him nothing. She wasn't afraid of him.
“Marcus Drews.” Caroline took a deep breath, lifting her chin to meet his gaze. “Since we've never been formally introduced, let me be clear: I've never done anything to you. This is the third time we've met, and every time you've acted like a lunatic.”
“What?” Marcus's expression darkened, the veins in his neck bulging.
Caroline let out a scornful laugh.
“Didn't you understand me? Let me put it another way: don't you think you have mental problems? Are you sick?”
A collective gasp of horror rippled through the store. The employees held their breath, staring at Caroline with a mixture of shock and suicidal admiration.
Mr. Drews was known to assault people for much less.
He was untouchable. Anyone who got beaten up by him had to accept hush money and be thankful they were alive. No one dared provoke him.
And this girl... this sweet, fragile-looking girl... had just called the demon crazy to his face.
Linda had already fled. But Caroline remained, planted on the floor like a rock.
“You hate me, don't you?” Caroline continued, her voice firm, defying the storm. “But why? There must be a logical reason for so much hatred. Mr. Drews, please enlighten me: what have I done to you? What made you hate me so much, besides your own paranoia?”
Marcus Drews clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles cracked.
A dark, suffocating aura emanated from him. He was on the verge of exploding. He wanted to grab her by the throat and teach her a lesson about hierarchy.
He was about to unleash the beast.
But then...
The moment he took a step to attack her, a scent invaded his senses.
It was a sweet, clean, natural scent. It wasn't expensive perfume, nor was it the sickly sweet smell of the cosmetics Linda wore. It was the scent of her skin.
Something in Marcus's brain locked up.
The red rage that clouded his vision dissipated momentarily, replaced by a stunning confusion.
He blinked, looking down.
Caroline had taken a step toward him, undaunted. Her large eyes were wide, shining with fire and indignation.
She didn't back down.
Her face was inches from his.
Marcus's heart, which had been pounding with rage, skipped a beat for a different reason.
She was... stunning.
She wore almost no makeup. Her skin was porcelain, her lashes were long and natural, and her lips were red with anger. There was a vitality about her, a raw purity he had never seen before.
Marcus Drews had been surrounded by beautiful women his entire life. Models, actresses, heiresses.
He grew up with Sheila, who was considered the belle of society.
But at that moment, staring into the fury in Caroline's eyes, he had to admit something he hated: she was superior.
Caroline's beauty was different. It wasn't manufactured. It was magnetic.
For the first time, Marcus Drews didn't feel like hitting someone who challenged him. He felt... curiosity. And something much more dangerous.
Sheila was beautiful, no doubt. But her beauty was flashy, extravagant, and aggressive. She was like a red rose full of thorns: she attracted the eye, but hurt anyone who tried to touch her. She was overly striking, assertive, and often exhausting.
But Caroline... Caroline was different.
There was nothing aggressive about her. She exuded an aura of tranquility that put people at ease. She had that “first love” air of youth—nostalgic, sweet, and unforgettable.
Her charisma was pure. Perhaps because she had not yet been corrupted by the cynicism of the adult world or high society. She was genuine, like an untouched lake.
Marcus Drews had seen many stunning women in his life, but this was the first time he had seen someone with Caroline's aura.
She was close. Dangerously close.
He could smell her perfume.
It wasn't an expensive designer perfume. It was a sweet, clean, natural scent. It smelled like milk and wildflowers. It was refreshing.
And for some reason, that scent triggered something deep in his brain.
“Tell me!” Caroline demanded, her eyes flashing with anger, ignoring the danger. “What did I do to offend you? We've never had any real conflict. Don't you think your hatred is irrational?”
She took another step.