Fated To Three, And I Broke Them All novel Chapter 139

Chapter 139: 139-I Am Not Too Proud Of Myself

Gigi:

I went home in tears.

The moment I stormed inside, I slammed the door once, then twice, then a third time, until a small crack appeared in the wood.

I kept pounding against it, sobbing uncontrollably.

None of this was right.

They weren’t supposed to treat me this way.

I hadn’t done anything wrong.

So why the fuck were they treating me like this?

Hearing my screaming and sobbing, I knew my mother would realize something had happened to me.

And she did.

The moment she heard my cries, she came running to our side.

She practically had to grab my arms and drag me inside because I refused to stop, and a crowd was beginning to gather outside.

Honestly, I didn’t care.

I couldn’t have cared less.

I was so angry that I was ready to jeopardize my reputation.

Then again, what reputation? It meant nothing if it wasn’t going to help me with Ragnar’s family.

"Bring some fucking water for her! Can’t you see she’s hyperventilating?" my mother screamed at the maid standing nearby.

I knew exactly what she was doing. They all loved gossip.

Every single maid, every servant, was so fucking jealous of me that they were always looking for something to talk about, hoping to hear any gossip they could laugh about later.

As soon as my mother shouted, the maid hurried away.

"Everybody just fucking leave!" my mother screamed again.

The others scattered immediately.

Now it was just me and my mother.

I began to cry, clenching my hands into fists and pounding them against my lap.

"Calm down, Gigi. What happened?" my mother asked, cupping my face in her hands and forcing me to look at her.

I shook my head, hiccuping so hard that I felt like I would never catch my breath.

"That old lady—" I tried to speak, but every word was broken by a desperate gasp for air.

I was hyperventilating.

"What happened? Did Ragnar’s grandmother say something to you?" my mother asked, trying to calm me by stroking my hair and rubbing my back.

"She’s so fucking me—a—n."

The last word cracked so badly that even I could barely understand myself.

Just then, the maid hurried over with a glass of water.

"Okay, you need to calm down first. Have some water, take a deep breath, and then tell me what happened, okay?" my mother urged, pressing the glass into my hand.

I looked up and noticed the maid stealing glances at me, as though she were mocking me.

"Do you think this is funny?" I asked.

She immediately stepped back.

"Huh? Do you think my misery is a joke?" I screamed.

Somehow, my anger kept growing, and it felt like the maid was the only person in front of me I could take it out on.

So why was I holding back?

I don’t know what came over me. I couldn’t control myself anymore.

The next thing I knew, I snatched the glass from my mother’s hand.

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