Chapter 215 Chapter 215
“Is it just because you think I'm too poor for Nicholas?” she accused. “Or... is it because of Sheila? Are you buying into your little friend's pain?”
Caroline hit the nail on the head.
He and Sheila grew up together. He knew Sheila was obsessed with Nicholas. The whole group expected the two heirs to marry. But then this “nobody” showed up and stole Sheila's place.
So, yes. He was getting revenge for Sheila. That was the logic.
But when he heard Sheila's name come out of Caroline's mouth, Marcus's expression changed.
It wasn't immediate anger. It was... confusion.
The smell. The closeness. The intensity in her eyes.
He looked at the woman less than two feet away and felt dizzy.
Familiar.
That feeling was strangely familiar.
Not her face, but her presence. The smell.
A bizarre, ancient image, one he thought he had forgotten, emerged from the depths of his memory like an air bubble rising to the surface.
Flashback: 15 years ago.
It was his 10th birthday party. A lavish party at the Drews mansion.
He and Sheila had argued over something trivial in the garden. He, always temperamental, got angry and ran away to hide in the pool area, away from the adults.
He was running, tripped, and... splash.
The icy water engulfed him. He couldn't swim.
Panic set in. He flailed his arms, swallowed water, tried to scream, but no one heard him. The world became silent and blurry.
He sank. His lungs burned. Darkness began to take over.
Just when he thought he was going to die, just as his consciousness was fading... he saw a white blur swimming toward him through the blue water.
In his terrified child's mind, he thought it was an angel.
Small hands grabbed him.
He was pulled to the surface. Air. Life.
When he opened his eyes again, coughing up water on the pool deck, there was a group of adults around him, screaming.
And he saw Sheila.
She was standing next to him, soaked in her little white dress, shivering from the cold.
It was at that moment that the seed of obsession was planted.
Sheila saved me.
She appeared when he was most frightened. She was the angel who pulled him from the gates of hell.
From that day on, Marcus swore absolute loyalty to her. No matter how spoiled, cruel, or manipulative Sheila became as she grew up... he would tolerate it all. He would protect her. Because she gave him life.
It was a blood debt.
But... there was one detail in that hazy memory.
As he was submerged, almost passing out, he remembered smelling a specific scent when the “angel” embraced him in the water. And he remembered a pair of very clear and kind eyes.
End of Flashback.
Marcus blinked, returning to the reality of the handbag store.
The scent coming from Caroline now... that clean, sweet perfume... was eerily similar to the scent from that day at the pool.
And her eyes...
Marcus took two steps back, disturbed.
He shook his head, dismissing the ridiculous thought. Impossible. It was Sheila. Sheila was there, wet. Caroline is just a stranger.
He raised a barrier of ice around himself again. He needed to hate Caroline. If he didn't hate her, he would be betraying Sheila.
“You don't need a logical reason to hate someone,” Marcus replied, his voice hoarse, forcing the hostility back. “Some people just... shouldn't exist in our world.”
He frowned, trying to ignore her scent that continued to haunt his senses.
Caroline was speechless upon hearing his response.
She looked at him with genuine disbelief.
“You really are a lunatic,” she muttered. “I feel sorry for you.”
To her, Marcus Drews wasn't just a villain; he was a lost cause.
Caroline sighed, shaking her head.
Suddenly, she realized the futility of the situation. She was trying to argue logically with a madman.
Had she lost her mind too?
Since he had already made it clear that he hated her for no reason, there wasn't much more to say. You can't argue with irrationality.
She nodded with a tired, sarcastic smile. “All right, then. Do as you please. There are so many people in the world who dislike me, you're just another one in line. Think what you want.”
Marcus Drews frowned at her, irritated by her indifference, but said nothing more. A tense silence hung over the store.
“Mr. Drews...” One of the employees, trembling slightly, gathered the courage to break the ice. “Would you... still like to have the red bag?”
Marcus Drews blinked, turning to the employee. He had completely forgotten the object of the dispute; he was focused solely on intimidating Caroline.
He was about to dismiss the purchase when Caroline's voice cut through the air, firm and decisive.
“I want the bag,” Caroline declared, ignoring his presence. “Marcus Drews, I don't care if you hate me, if you're crazy, or if you own the mall. I picked this bag first, and I'm taking it.”
She wasn't going to back down. Not today.
Marcus Drews watched her insistence and his eyes narrowed dangerously. A cruel smile curved his lips. He loved crushing other people's hopes.
“Oh? Really?” He scoffed, crossing his arms. “What if I don't agree? What if I say you're not taking anything from here?”
“Then it looks like you're asking to get beaten up again.”
A low, icy voice laden with lethal threat sounded right behind them.
Marcus Drews stiffened instantly. His arrogance evaporated. The color drained from his face.
Caroline turned quickly.
Nicholas was walking toward them. His expression was calm, but his eyes were stormy. He exuded an aura of power that made the temperature in the store drop ten degrees.
Caroline was surprised for a moment, but relief flooded her. She walked toward him with a genuine smile, completely ignoring the man who was threatening her.
“Are you done with your call?” she asked sweetly, taking the initiative to hold his hand.
Her small, soft hand slid into his large palm.
She rarely took the initiative to make physical contact, especially in public.
At that very moment, Nicholas's coldness wavered for a second. He was pleasantly surprised.
He didn't react immediately, savoring the gesture. Seconds later, his long, slender fingers closed around hers, intertwining firmly and possessively.
Seeing how closely their hands were joined—like a united front—Marcus Drews pursed his lips and clenched his fists, tasting the bitter taste of defeat.