Chapter 305
When Chrislyn heard those words, her head shot up, uncertainty flickering in her eyes like a fleeting spark in the dark.
“Don’t look at me like that. We are both women, after all. What harm could I possibly inflict upon you?” Marina replied, her voice dripping with lazy confidence.
“No…” Chrislyn’s words stumbled and got stuck in her throat. She longed to explain, but the weight of unspoken truths held
her back.
With a hesitant breath, she shed her clothes, revealing a vulnerability that was both daunting and raw.
Marina’s keen eyes did not miss a beat, recognizing the telltale signs of Chrislyn’s injury etched across her face and actions.
Little did she expect the extent of the wounds.
Chrislyn’s back bore a tapestry of green and purple bruises, resembling marks left by a merciless lash. Each scar seemed to whisper a haunting tale of pain and suffering.
The image of the masked man’s cane flashed through Marina’s mind like a haunting specter.
Holding her breath, Marina gingerly lowered herself beside Chrislyn, her every movement fraught with unspoken tension.
A closer examination revealed that Chrislyn’s injuries concealed a more profound, darker truth. Her skin bore the cruel imprints of old scars as if her body had weathered a storm of enduring abuse.
“Did Mr. Fermon inflict these wounds?” Marina’s voice betrayed an unintended frostiness.
Chrislyn’s response remained unflinching, her tone unyielding in the face of adversity. “I made a mistake, and punishment is but a natural consequence.”
Marina’s eyes narrowed, her expression turning frigid at Chrislyn’s stoic resolve. “Is it natural for you to be willing, even if it means being beaten to death?” she questioned.
“My life belongs to the household. Even if I die, I will not hesitate,” Chrislyn replied resolutely.
Marina’s frustration surged like a tempest, causing her to question her own actions. Then why did I labor tirelessly to heal you? Must I mend your wounds only to send you back into the abyss of brutality?”
Chrislyn hesitated, her voice wavering with unspoken vulnerability. “I… I never asked for your aid.”
Marina’s temper flared, a flicker of amusement mingling with her ire. “Do I appear to meddle in your affairs? Perhaps I should have you kneel and tend to the lawns instead?”
“That duty lies entrusted to me by the household. I must fulfill it, regardless of the cost,” Chrislyn asserted, her voice carrying the weight of her duty and unyielding loyalty.
Marina’s anger reached its peak, and she flung the ointment in her hand onto Chrislyn’s lap, the motion laced with her silent. resignation. Standing abruptly, she made it clear she did not intend to intervene anymore.
There was no noticeable change on Chrislyn’s face as she calmly put on her clothes, then stood up and walked toward the door.
However, her figure appeared hunched, and her steps seemed somewhat unsteady,
Marina furrowed her brows tightly but refrained from stopping her.
But just as Chrislyn reached the door, she suddenly halted, then turned around and approached Marina.
Marina’s eyes flickered, uncertainty mingling with a glimmer of anticipation.
Chapte
However, Chrislyn’s actions surprised Marina. She bent down, meticulously rearranging the first aid kit that Marina had opened, her movements graceful and efficient. It was as if the world around her ceased to exist, oblivious to Marina’s presence.
Marina’s ruby–red lips contorted into a rigid line, hinting at the storm brewing within.
But in a deliberate move, Chrislyn lowered her voice, its hushed tones reaching Marina’s cars.
“Don’t defy Mr. Fermon….” The words slipped from Chrislyn’s lips, barely audible, as she continued walking without missing
a beat.
It was a fleeting utterance that left Marina questioning her own hearing.
Yet, Marina was certain that those words had indeed escaped Chrislyn’s lips.
Marina pondered, “Is she warning me? But why? I am on Mr. Fermon’s side, aren’t I?”
A flicker of uncertainty danced in Marina’s gaze, a hint of intrigue mingling with her doubts.
From that day onward, Mr. Fermon ceased his visits, no longer seeking her presence.
However, Chrislyn had knelt on the lawn and mowed it for three days.
Marina unintentionally caught wind of this revelation by eavesdropping on the villa’s murmurs.
Initially, Mr. Fermon had planned to punish Chrislyn for only one day.
Yet, because she had abandoned her duties, two additional days were tacked on.
Marina chose to remain unfazed by the news, continuing her leisurely existence..
On one aimless day, Marina wandered into the mansion and unconsciously ended up near the attic.
A locked room stood guard within the attic’s confines, enticing Marina’s senses.
However, the maid promptly intercepted her, blocking her path.
IM
“Miss Bailey, you mustn’t proceed any further, the maid cautioned.
”
Curiosity piqued, Marina queried, “Why is that?”
The maid’s gaze averted, her voice laced with trepidation. “It is Mr. Fermon’s order. None are permitted to approach that place, the maid replied, her head hung low as if harboring an innate aversion to the locked room.
Marina narrowed her eyes, studying the maid for a fleeting moment.
Instead of forcing her way in, she turned on her heel, departing from the scene.
Yet, under the shroud of night, Marina surreptitiously rose from her bed, silent as a wraith.
Her gaze drified towards the ceiling monitor, a device she had already manipulated since her discovery.
Rendered useless, it now served as nothing more than a hollow ornament.
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