Remington’s brows furrowed as he stepped forward, positioning himself in front of Lizetta.


    Lizetta took a step back, looking up at him with a calmness in her eyes that made Remington distinctly


    ufortable. It was as if she was looking at a stranger, through and through.


    Once upon a time, she would never look at him that way. Remington tensed up, his handsome face


    turning cold.


    “I’m not going back with you, nor will I listen to you and give up my chance with the dance troupe. I’ve


    already gone out of my way to save Mr. Dachrell’s face in public. Can’t you, for once, drop your


    domineering attitude and let me be?”


    Lizetta spoke, feeling both suffocated and frustrated. She took a step to leave and reached for her


    phone to call Ynda, who was nowhere to be found.


    But in the next second, Remington caught her wrist and gently pulled her towards him. Lizetta stumbled


    into his embrace, her waist sped by him, enveloped by his familiar scent of woodsy cologne.


    Whether it was her sensitivity or just her imagination, she thought she detected a faint whiff of women’s


    perfume.


    Lizetta frowned in disgust, tuming her head away as she struggled to free herself, “Let me gol


    “Lizetta, why exactly are you making a fuss here?” Remington snapped, his grip on her firm as he


    forced her to look at him, leaving no room for escape.


    Lizetta’s eyes turned red as she stared back at him, feeling utterly exhausted.


    “Me? Making a fuss? Remington, it’s clearly you who’s been causing all the trouble!”


    He was the one who made promises of a happy life together but quickly forgot as he got entangled with


    past me, who disregarded her feelings, meddled in her career under the guise of being a husband,


    and who even forcefully brought her back when she went abroad, using his injury to guilt–trip her into


    submission.


    She was left wondering if he ever truly cared for her at all. As these thoughts flooded her mind, tears


    blurred her vision once more.


    She suddenly looked down, not wanting him to see her vulnerability. But Remington saw it anyway, and


    his grip loosened slightly in


    panic.


    He leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers, trying to exin.


    Tm just womed about your health. With the dance rehearsals, performances, and tours, how can I not


    worry when you’re about to start showing? Isn’t Joy more important than dancing?


    He said this as he gently kissed her forehead, his voice soft and coaxing. But Lizetta pushed him away,


    feeling his affections were nothing but pretense


    “Stop pretending: I know everything.”


    Her expression was cold, devoid of any warmth or affection, her reactionpletely unexpected by


    Remington


    Remington’s frown deepened, “Know what?”


    He had thought Lizetta’s mood was due to a moming spat with Hanna, taking it out on him. But clearly,


    there was something else he


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    was unaware of.


    At the sight of him still ying ignorant, Lizetta’s lips curled into a scornful smile, “In your old room, I


    opened that wooden box in the closet and saw everything inside! I know about Ste!


    Your concern for the West family’s affairs, your interest in Evelina’s baby carrying the West family


    bloodline, it isn’t just about Quinn, is it? It’s for Ste, right?”


    Lizetta finished usingly, her gaze fixed on Remington. She was determined to see how he would try


    to deny or conceal the truth, watching for any sign of guilt or evasion on his face.