Top Assassin with Superpowers Reborn novel Chapter 131

She dialed the number again, a knot of anxiety tightening in her chest.

Ring!

The call went on and on, but no one picked up.

Clara's heart sank. The chill in the air seemed to seep deeper into her bones.

She gave up for the moment and turned to the bodyguard with a haughty tone. "Raymond must be busy and left his phone behind. Once he sees my missed calls, he'll come out to get me."

With that, she stepped aside, planning to try again in a few minutes.

The wind grew sharper, biting through her clothes.

Clara stood alone in the cold, shivering down to her core.

What could Raymond be doing? Why isn't he answering?

As if things weren't bad enough, a light drizzle began to fall. The cold wind mixed with rain cut straight to the bone.

Hugging herself tightly, Clara trembled uncontrollably outside the gate. Her face was pale, her nose and ears bright red from the cold.

The car that had dropped her off was long gone. She had no choice but to stand there and endure it.

More than once, she thought about calling the car back and leaving this awful place.

But she hadn't seen Raymond yet.

She couldn't just go.

After another ten minutes, Clara pulled out her phone to call Raymond again. Her fingers were so stiff she could barely tap the screen.

Ring! Still no answer.

Clara's face fell. She felt like crying.

What could be so important that he can't even keep his phone on him?

Inside the mansion, on the balcony of a two-story villa, Raymond watched through a pair of binoculars. His expression was cold as he observed Clara shivering outside the gate. He felt no sympathy, only a hard, still anger.

On the table beside him, his phone lit up again and again. He didn't move to pick it up.

She deserves this! Damn it! She even lied to me!

Clara made him misunderstand his own sister Margaret and treat her like an enemy.

Whenever he remembered the past year and a half—how he'd misjudged Margaret, how he'd ignored her—his heart ached like it was being pricked by needles.

Raymond stood in the cold wind wearing only a thin shirt. The old injuries in his body still throbbed, but his face showed nothing.

This cold, this pain—it was nothing compared to what Margaret had suffered because of his foolishness.

His gaze toward Clara was colder than the wind outside.

How could I have been so stupid? How could I have believed her so easily?

If Edward hadn't warned me, how much longer would I keep hurting Margaret?

She's the one who truly saved me—not Clara.

How dare a mere bodyguard treat me this way!

She felt utterly wronged.

I'm a total spoiled brat—my parents' precious little girl!

Why do I have to go through this crap?

No way—this is all Margaret's fault! She's the one who ruined my life!

Once she got in touch with that assassin, she'd make sure he brought her Margaret's body. She'd tear it apart with her own hands and feed it to the dogs!

Nothing less would satisfy the rage burning inside her.

A servant led Clara inside. They walked for several minutes—her feet were so numb she could hardly feel them—until they reached the villa where Raymond lived.

"Mr. Tucker, Clara is here," the servant said respectfully.

"Let her wait outside." Raymond's voice came from inside, cold and clear.

A woman like her would only dirty his place if she stepped inside.

"Yes, sir," the servant replied.

Outside the villa, Clara was shaking all over. She had thought that once she reached Raymond's place, she could finally go inside, take a hot bath, and escape this misery.

But the servant wouldn't let her in—on Raymond's orders.