Ste climbed into the car, and the driver asked, "Ms. West, where is the young master?"
Ste squeezed her eyes shut, her face dark with frustration and rage as she snapped,
"Just drive! Let that miserable little crybaby rot in there for all I care!"
Seeing her furious mood, the driver didn''t dare ask any more questions and immediately sped off.
Ste kept her eyes closed. Between the sheer terror and exhaustion of the previous night, she quickly drifted into a heavy doze.
Suddenly, the car mmed on its brakes hard on the winding mountain road.
Ste was thrown violently forward, mming heavily into the back of the front seat. Her forehead wound took the direct hit.
Agonizing pain red. The partially coagted blood instantly burst through the white gauze, streaking down her face in grotesque rivers.
Clutching her head, Ste shrieked, "Are you trying to kill me?! Watch how you drive, you useless idiot!"
The driver stammered, trembling, "M-Ms. West... someone just rolled down from the mountain slope..."
"He''s blocking the road. I don''t know if he''s dead or alive. I... I''ll go check."
The driver was ashen. He had just been driving normally when a body suddenly tumbled out from the brush beside the road right into their path.
Frowning, Ste finally looked out the window. Sure enough, a man was lyingpletely motionless in front of the car, seemingly covered in blood. It was impossible to tell if he was even breathing.
The mere sight of blood now filled Ste with terrified nausea. She shoved the car door open, stumbled out, and wretched violently by the side of the road until only bile came up. Only then did she turn to look.
"Ms. West, I think he''s still alive."
The driver had propped the bloodied man up. The moment Ste saw his face, an icy chill shot up from the soles of her feet.
It was the paparazzo she had hired to take photosst night. He was the same one who had taken numerous photos and videos for her in the past; they were practically old acquaintances.
Ste''s face drained of whatever color it had left. Clutching her chest in terror, she backed away until she bumped into the hood of the car. Gasping for air, she stammered,
"Drag... drag him into the car."
The driver struggled to drag the heavy man, leaving a long, horrifying smear of blood on the asphalt.
Ste gripped the car for support, her head spinning and her vision darkening around the edges.
Remington was utterly ruthless. She lived in constant fear that one day, she too would be subjected to such brutality.
No, that wouldn''t happen.
They shared a childhood bond, after all.
Meanwhile, back at Oakridge Heights.
Liz carried Ron into the bedroom, set
him down on the sofa, and handed
him a small wooden orna
from
a nearby cab to y with.
Ron quickly stopped crying. Even
with teardrops still clinging to his et
eyshes, he broke into a wide toothless grin and started again.
He truly was a happy, easygoing baby.
"You must be starving. Let''s go down and eat."
Remington followed them in and bent over to pick Ron up. Without warning, Liz raised her hand.
Smack. She pped the back of his hand sharply.
Remington pulled his hand back, looking at Liz in pure astonishment.
"Girlfriend, what did I do wrong? Are we resorting to domestic violence now?"
Liz rolled her eyes at him. "That''s for deliberately having Ste scare our Ron just now."
She turned her attention back to the baby. "Ron, let''s ignore him. We have boundaries too, right?"
As if he understood her perfectly,
Ron
a dramatic turn of his
headenting Remington with the
back of his little skull,
Remington was speechless.
He didn''t make Ste scare Ron; he used Ron to scare Ste!
As for Ron bursting into tears, that was just the little guycking a spine.
"He''s a boy. He shouldn''t be so timid. Courage needs to be cultivated from a young age,"
Remington said dismissively. But to Liz, those words sounded awfully familiar.