Chapter 41 Shane’s Appearance

Chapter 41 Shane’s Appearance

The air froze instantly.

"Ten thousand?!" Linda shrieked as if she'd heard the world's biggest joke, her scream piercing through the evening calm. "Monica, are you trying to send off a beggar! What can ten thousand do? Are you deliberately trying to make your brother suffer!"

She trembled with rage, pointing at Monica's nose and cursing: "How did I give birth to such a cold-hearted daughter! You don't have money? Can't you borrow some? Aren't all your classmates and friends richer than you? And your boss—you're living in his nice place, what's wrong with borrowing some money from him? I raised you all these years, and now when I ask you to help the family a little, you make excuses. Has your conscience been eaten by dogs!"

The unbearable curses poured over Monica like sticky sewage, drenching her from head to toe.

Just as the two were about to have a complete falling out at the apartment complex entrance, Derek stepped in again. He pulled back the agitated Linda, his face still wearing that refined gentleman's demeanor.

"Auntie, don't worry, the money can be worked out." After calming Linda down, he turned to Monica, his gaze carrying a hint of self-satisfied affection and control. "Monica, I know you have your difficulties. How about this—I'll pay for Mason's wedding."

He paused, seemingly satisfied with the shock that flashed across Monica's face, then slowly laid out his condition: "Consider it... money I'm giving you. Once we're married, we'll be family, and your brother will naturally be my brother too."

These words sounded high-minded, both showcasing his generosity and invisibly backing Monica into a corner.

Looking at his fake smile, Monica suddenly felt that everything should end.

Meeting Derek's confident gaze, she spoke slowly and clearly, her voice firm and resolute: "Derek, let me be clear with you—I will not marry you."

The smile on Derek's face froze instantly.

Linda exploded like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

She couldn't let go of this golden opportunity she'd finally caught! All her anger and disappointment turned into one vicious movement.

"You ungrateful daughter! I'll beat you to death!" She raised her hand and swung it toward Monica's face with all her strength.

Monica instinctively closed her eyes, but the expected pain never came.

A well-defined hand steadily caught Linda's wrist mid-air, the grip firm and strong, leaving her unable to move.

Shane had appeared at her side without her noticing, his tall figure completely shielding her. He still carried the outdoor chill, his handsome face cold as ice, those unfathomably deep eyes rolling with frightening hostility as they fixed on Linda.

"If you have something to say, say it. Don't get physical." His voice was deep, without a trace of warmth, yet carrying an undeniable sense of pressure.

Linda felt intimidated under his gaze and instinctively tried to pull her hand back, only to find his grip was like an iron clamp she couldn't break free from.

"You... who are you? Let go of me! I'm disciplining my own daughter—it's none of your business!" she shouted with false bravado.

Shane ignored her yelling, simply released her hand, and said to her: "Let's talk privately."

His tone was flat, yet like an order that couldn't be refused.

Monica's heart clenched. She knew too well what kind of people her mother and brother were—they were bottomless pits who would latch onto anyone they could use. She didn't want to drag Shane into this mess too.

Concern clouded her judgment. Almost instinctively, she grabbed Shane's arm and spoke urgently: "Shane, don't get involved. This is my family matter."

Her voice carried a pleading and distance she herself hadn't noticed.

Shane's body stiffened. He slowly lowered his head, looking at her hand gripping his arm, emotions churning in his eyes before finally turning into deep coldness.

To her, he was still an outsider after all.

She'd rather bear all the ugliness herself than trust that he could handle this.

Actually, Monica just felt her family was too unreasonable and didn't want Shane to face this ugliness and awkwardness. It had nothing to do with trust—it was purely an instinctive protection.

But to his ears, these words took on a different meaning.

Shane looked down at her hand gripping his arm so hard her knuckles had turned white, his lips curving into a cold smile. "What's the point of hiding?" he asked, his voice suppressing churning emotions. "Or do you really want to marry that guy surnamed Morrison so he can help you clean up this mess?"

Each word was like a poisoned needle, stabbing viciously at Monica's most vulnerable nerves.

She trembled all over and instinctively let go, as if burned by his words.

Emotions surged wildly in her chest—grievance, anger, humiliation—almost tearing her apart. But she just bit her lip hard, forcibly pushing all the turmoil back down, her cool eyes stubbornly meeting his gaze, refusing to reveal any weakness.

Her silence and stubbornness, to Shane, was tantamount to admission.

The last bit of warmth in his eyes disappeared. He stopped looking at her and turned to face Linda's shocked yet greedy expression, his tone flat but brooking no argument: "Find a place. Let's talk."

Derek had long heard of Shane's reputation and knew he was someone not to be trifled with. He discreetly tugged at Linda's sleeve and reminded her in a low voice: "Auntie, this man... is not simple."

Linda couldn't read between the lines. She only took Derek's words as a hint that Shane was rich and powerful. Her eyes instantly lit up, looking at Shane like a hungry wolf eyeing the fattest lamb.

Shane ignored their scheming expressions. His gaze remained on Monica until he watched her turn and walk into the apartment lobby, the glass door cutting off everything outside. Only then did he look away.

After confirming Derek hadn't followed to pester her, he turned to Linda and tilted his chin slightly, indicating the nearby café.

Inside the apartment, Monica leaned against the cold door, listening to her own heartbeat echoing endlessly in the silent living room.

She didn't turn on the lights, just walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and looked down at the brightly lit café below, like a prisoner awaiting sentencing.

Her heart was deeply uneasy.

She didn't know what Shane would say to her mother, much less what method he would use to resolve this matter.

The simplest and most direct method would be to give money.

But as soon as this thought emerged, she crushed it.

She would rather be drowned in her mother's curses than owe Shane such an unpayable debt of gratitude.