Chapter 53 Do You Want to See Her?
When I heard those words, it felt as though my blood was violently exploding in my chest, pressing down on me so hard that it made my breathing sharp and ragged. Every breath seemed to carry the taste of blood.
What did Philip mean by that?
What had he done to Sylvia?
My heart pounded in my chest, uncontrollable, and a powerful premonition swept over me, tearing at my nerves and pushing me closer to the brink of collapse with each passing moment. It pulled at me, as if trying
to drive me mad.
But I couldn’t react. I had to force myself to suppress my emotions. No tears, no hatred, not even a flicker of change in my mood!
Only then would I not be exposed.
However, this was an unbearable torment for me. Every time I looked up and saw Philip’s smug gaze, I wanted
nothing more than to rip the mask he was wearing to shreds!
I didn’t know how I managed to suppress this emotion. All I knew was that the fraying nerves inside me were
being torn apart, until finally, I became numb.
I managed to force out a smile and casually asked, “So, if I understand you correctly, this toy of yours is no longer by your side?”
Philip raised an eyebrow, a malicious smile curving at his lips. “You’re quite curious about my plaything, aren’t you?”
He was too sensitive. The moment my words left my mouth, Philip immediately saw through them.
I could only shake my head and smile in return, replying, “Mr. Hodge, if you put it that way, I must admit, I am
curious about your plaything. After all, I have something to ask of you. I was thinking, if I could tame your plaything, perhaps I’d be able to get what I need.”
My words were precise and calculated, even though my heart felt like it was falling apart, no one could tell on
the outside.
Philip seemed amused, chuckling lightly. “You’re quite clever. If only my plaything could be like you, but unfortunately…”
He sighed as he pulled a photo from his pocket.
“Take a look, see the look of hatred in her eyes when she stares at me?” Philip said as he handed the photo to
- me.
I lowered my gaze, and my pupils immediately contracted,
The figure in the photo resembled the image I had in my memory. I was almost certain–it was Sylvia!
The face was exactly the same, but it was so different from the Sylvia I remembered.
In my memory, Sylvia was a gentle, sweet girl who would always coquettishly ask me for attention, and whenever she got a small scrape, she would run to me, wanting to be comforted.
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But in the photo, she was shoved into a steel cage, the bars stained with blood, so much so that it was hard
to tell whether it was dried blood or rust.
She clutched the bars tightly, her hands covered in scars–some healed, others fresh.
Her eyes locked onto the camera, filled with rage and hatred, like a wild animal pushed to the edge of
collapse, every fiber of her being radiating defiance.
This was Sylvia! The same Sylvia I had pampered since childhood!
She, who had a low tolerance of pain, seemed now to be indifferent to her injuries, her eyes nervously and
alertly fixed on whoever was outside the cage.
My heart felt as if it had been seized by a giant hand, as if it could be crushed at any moment.
I wanted to cry, to wail, but all emotions were blocked in my throat, swallowed down violently!
I could only grip the photo tightly, forcing myself to focus on Sylvia’s pain–stricken image.
I didn’t know how old she was in that photo, but I could clearly see her frail body and torn clothes.
This should be the Sylvia I held in the palm of my hand, the one who should have grown up surrounded by
endless love. Why had she been subjected to such injustice?
What had Sylvia done wrong?!
My heart was filled with anger, so much that I could hardly control it. I wanted to kill Philip right there and
then!
My fury threatened to consume me, and the taste of blood rose in my throat. I desperately swallowed, afraid I
might spit out blood.
Just as I was on the verge of losing control, my hand was gently grasped.
The familiar warmth slowly spread through me, alleviating the coldness in my heart, little by little.
I forced myself to breathe through the pain, turning my head to look at Cyril. He spoke in a low voice, “Looking at her now, she does resemble Aurora a bit, but those eyes… they’re really similar.”
His words helped me regain a measure of calm, and I quickly adjusted my emotions.
When I lifted my gaze to Philip again, the pain in my eyes had completely disappeared. I smiled faintly and said softly, “Yes, now that you mention it, there is a resemblance. No wonder Mr. Hodge brought this up.”
Philip’s gaze grew probing, as if trying to see through my disguise.
But little did he know, ever since Sylvia had been taken away, I had lived in torment every single moment. Long before I met him, I had already spent countless nights in agony.
Pretending to be indifferent had become second nature to me.
I handed the photo back to Philip without hesitation, though no one knew that in those few seconds, Sylvia’s image had deeply imprinted itself in my mind, becoming a nightmare I could never escape.
I had to save her. I had to get her out!
Philip seemed somewhat surprised, as though he hadn’t gotten the reaction he expected from me.
He appeared dissatisfied, his eyes narrowing as he said again, “What do you think of my plaything? There
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were plenty of people who wanted her at the time. Those who’ve had a go with her said she was quite good.
I didn’t flinch. I calmly replied, “She’s very beautiful.”
No one knew how deep the pain was in my heart, or how intense the taste of blood was in my throat. Only I
understood.
Philip’s eyes curved slightly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Do you want to see her?”
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