Selena sneered: "You think you're in a position to negotiate with me? If I don't teach this trashy woman a lesson today, I won't be able to carry the name White anymore." After saying this, she once again raised her hand.
Flora closed her eyes tightly, but the anticipated searing pain did not come.
A harsh "smack" resounded.
To her surprise, when she opened her eyes, Selena was the one cradling a reddened cheek.
Mimi stood defiantly in front of Flora, gifting Selena another slap for good measure.
"This crazy hag!" The girl removed her rubber gloves and threw them aside: "Indeed, dealing with this sort of person, it's better to be prepared with gloves. Otherwise, I'd have to wash my hands four times to feel clean again."
"You... you dare hit me?" Selena gritted her teeth, her eyes blazing with fury as she glared at Mimi.
The girl nodded: "Yes, I hit you! If you dare take another step, I won't hesitate to slap you a few more times." Her gaze on Selena was like looking at a piece of trash: "It's really pitiful. A person who is neither young nor graceful, all you can do is create a ruckus to gain attention. Unfortunately, my uncle doesn't care the slightest about your theatrics."
Flora exhaled deeply.
Even if Selena had meticulously prepared her attack today, being hauled to the police station for a "cooperative investigation" seemed inevitable.
Mimi should not have intervened at this point.
If she hadn't, she wouldn't be stuck in this detention room with her.
"Why did you get involved? You're too silly, slapping her might hurt her face, but it also hurts your hand, and now you're stuck in here with me." She let out a languid sigh, taking Mimi's slightly reddened hand and rubbing it gently.
"My hand is red because of training yesterday, it has nothing to do with that crazy woman." Mimi withdrew her hand and hid it behind her back: "The real fool here is you, for letting her hit you and not knowing how to fight back." In reality, anyone could see that under those circumstances, Flora had no chance of fighting back.
Her hands were tightly held, she was like a fish on the chopping board.
She pursed her lips, shaking her head faintly: "It's not important... It's just that... she said she's keeping Charlie..."
As for this matter, Mimi wasn't as worried as Flora.
She casually said: "What do you think that lunatic can do to your Charlie? Our little prince is a genius, both smart and understanding. A crazy Selena is far from his match."
Flora knew her son was very intelligent.
The boy matured early and was quite crafty.
Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't let himself suffer.
But that was under normal circumstances.
"She's an adult, and he's a child. If she does something..."
"Even if she had ten times the courage, she wouldn't dare touch my cousin!" Mimi stated firmly: "Moreover, don't you find this situation strange?"
Flora frowned slightly: "What do you mean strange?"
"The fact that your husband, my uncle, is missing." Mimi sat down on the only chair in the detention room, tilting her head: "I've been thinking about this for several days, and it's really strange. You must know something about my uncle's status in the gang. His disappearance should have caused chaos in the gang, not this eerie silence."
Being born into the underworld, Mimi always understood the ways of those brothers.
Whether sparked by personal sentiments or the collective benefits of their organization, they would not idly stand by, diligently seeking out Matthew's whereabouts.
"Furthermore, everyone with eyes could see your attempts to gather information on him from all corners of the globe.
Yet, until this moment, it has never been mentioned by the media.
I refuse to believe that these hounds have been unable to sniff out any news; it seems more like someone gave them a heads-up."
"What do you mean..."
Before Flora could finish, there was a sudden knock on the door: "It's mealtime."
The food in the temporary detention camp was extraordinarily basic.
Cold, hard rice grains, a chunk of tomato-sauced fish that couldn't mask its off-smell, and a few boiled vegetables.
At the first whiff of the fish, a wave of nausea surged up Flora's throat.
Her face went ashen, and she turned to retch on one side.
In the grand, luxurious mansion, Selena stared intently at the back of the young boy sitting by the window.
He had maintained that position for an hour, silent, indifferent to her presence.
"Huh, you little bastard... I refuse to believe that I can't control you!" She muttered under her breath, her hand tightening, her blood-red nails digging into her palm.
Burning in her eyes was a flame of anger and extreme jealousy.
Based on what? Based on what did Flora's illegitimate son bear such a striking resemblance to Matthew? Yet, her own child... was not his blood.
Based on what, even now, did that little bastard remain so calm, not sparing her a glance?
"Little master." she said through gritted teeth: "I heard you're quite talented at drawing.
I've prepared a room filled with art supplies for you in the attic.
Go there and paint, I'm sure someone who loves drawing like you will stay there until you've painted every piece of fabric, won't you?" After finishing, she turned to the housemaid, giving her a dismissive wave: "Take our little master up to the attic."
The housemaid, who had been standing on one side, hesitated, her voice laced with apprehension: "Madam, after all, the little master is young master Matthew's son.
The way you're treating him... doesn't seem right."
Everyone could see how Matthew treated this little master.
If he suddenly returned and learned how they were treating his son, the consequences... were unthinkable.
"But he's not here right now! And I'm the lady of this house!" Selena gritted her teeth: "Dare to defy me? Do you believe I'll make your life unbearable until Matthew returns?"
"This..: " The housemaid glanced at the unmoving young boy, her gaze filled with apprehension.
This mistress was becoming more and more overbearing.
They could barely meet her daily demands in the mansion.
But now, she had directly targeted Matthew's Achilles heel.
The housemaid was put in a difficult position, unsure of what to do.
Just then, the young boy spoke nonchalantly.
"It's okay, just do as Young mistress White wishes.
After all, I have already written my will and sent it to daddy Matthew's email."
If it were any other child who said this, no one would believe it.
However, this little boy was not an ordinary child.
Matthew's son, considered a prodigy among prodigies, possessed extraordinary intelligence and thoughts that surpassed his age.
Even without all that, his demeanor alone was enough to make others believe him.
The housemaid was left speechless, stuttering: "Little master... this... this matter..."
"More than just the will, I have an entire recorded conversation between me and Young mistress White, peppered with a handful of photographs and short video clips... all of them dispatched to my father's encrypted mailbox.
I can assure you, once my father returns, if I've been killed, he would know exactly who to seek for vengeance." After a short pause, the boy turned around, a smirk curling up to Selena: "Moreover, besides my father and I, there won't be a third party who can decode that email."
Selena froze.
His demeanor and speech were uncannily similar to Matthew's, as if cast from the same mold.
"Selena, Young mistress White, you thought I'm just a child and therefore ignorant of your scheming, right? Regrettably, I'm aware of everything.
Had I not been vigilant, you might have indeed found a way to torment me to death, wouldn't you?"
The boy certainly did not relish this card-revealing game.
Yet, he had been held captive here for several hours, and none of daddy Matthew's men had appeared.
Even a rudimentary deduction could paint a grim picture of the current situation.
With his father absent, his mother might be in danger.
He was left with no choice but to devise a way to safeguard himself.
In one perspective, the boy's speculation was not wrong.
At this moment, his mother was in a temporary detention cell of the police station, continuously retching due to a piece of tomato-sauced fish.
"Auntie... what's wrong with you?" Mimi, scared pale by the sounds of retching, quickly dropped her chopsticks and rushed to help Flora, patting her back.
The girl scrutinized Flora's pale face, furrowing her brows: "Could it be that you're pregnant?"
"Don't blabber nonsense!" Flora stretched out her hand, quickly covering the little girl's mouth: "This place is filled with Selena's eyes and ears, you... shouldn't speak without thinking, in case the news reaches Selena, it would spell disaster."
Outside, a sudden clinking sound rang out.
A police officer reached out to unlock the door of the detention room, and announced to the inside: "Flora, you have a family visitor."
Flora stood up, following the officer outside, her mind swirling with guesses on who could be visiting her at this time.
At a long table, a middle-aged woman sat.
Her hands tightly intertwined, an anxious expression clear on her face.
Every few seconds, her eyes would dart toward the door.
"Mother..." Flora choked, taking a seat across her mother.
She never thought that the first person to visit her would be her mother.
"My foolish girl." Mrs. Smith's eyes welled up with tears, rebuking her daughter: "Didn't you already break up with Matthew? Why are you still entangled with him, to the point that... sigh... you're a mother of two now, yet you're still acting like a child."
Flora bowed her head, not daring to meet her mother's eyes.
She pressed her lips together, pausing for a while before speaking: "I know... everything you said is correct.
All of it, including that Matthew and I belong to two different worlds.
But I love him! You understand that, don't you? You loved my father the same way, you must understand..."
A heart once given, how can one easily retrieve it? She loved Matthew, even though they belonged to different worlds, even though her days with him were fraught with unease and fear, even though she was suddenly embroiled in countless plots and troubles, she still loved him, unchangingly.
Never before had she understood her heart as she did now, nor had she ever clearly seen her parents' feelings.
"Mother, you resent father, but you also love him.
Hatred exists because of love.
If you didn't love him, you would have let go a long time ago, and found someone new." she affirmed.
Her mother looked at her daughter and finally, tears trickled down her cheeks.
She shakily reached out to touch the glass barrier separating them, letting out a heavy sigh.
"My little girl has truly grown up."
Every worry of the mother was poured into that sigh of resignation.
She knew, her daughter was strikingly like her, tremendously so.
Their most distinct similarity was their unwavering commitment to love, persisting headfirst into the storm of affection even when adorned with wounds...