Chapter 16
"Jace, come on, we are already late," I said while knocking on his bedroom door, but he didn't reply.
I impatiently tapped my foot against the floor as I awaited his arrival.
"Jace," I hollered again but encountered absolute silence. Then, I slowly turned the doorknob of his door and gasped at the sight before me.
"No, no," I murmured pleadingly and moved towards an unconscious Jace, who had been stabbed repeatedly in his abdomen. Hurriedly, I kneeled beside him and checked his pulse while screaming for help.
In the process, I spotted a note which said: Told you I'd come back, Grace.
This couldn't be happening; this nightmare was over.
"It's about time that you got up, Ms. Whitmore," Mr. Anderson said as soon as I opened my eyes. He didn't even bother looking up from the newspaper he had reading while sitting on the settee beside my bed.
"Yes, please go ahead and make yourself at home," I retorted while rubbing my eyes and sitting upright. "Wait a minute, you already have." This wasn't his first rodeo; Mr. Anderson had a habit of conducting such impromptu interventions.
"Well, Ms. Whitmore, I wouldn't have to do this if it hadn't been for your reckless attitude." He folded the newspaper and placed it on top of the pile of magazines on the table while replying.
"Isn't it too early for you to patronize me?" I questioned. Not even a single muscle on his face twitched in response. If I didn't know otherwise, I'd say this man was made of stone.
"I wouldn't term it as patronizing. I'd rather call it a much-needed reality-check," he replied with the same detached expression.
Mr. Anderson always treated me as a bratty child in comparison to the responsible Jace, even while Jace wasn't here. Well, I did lack control over my words and mannerisms when it came to those who irked me. And let's just say there were too many people on that list.
I drank the glass of water from my bedside. "Go ahead and tell me what has the black sheep done this time?" I asked while very well knowing what this discussion was about.
"Trust me, I happen to value my time, and I'd rather not waste it in arguing with you, so please don't put words into my mouth, Ms. Whitmore," he said in a leveled tone. I scoffed and tried to interrupt him. "As for why I'm here, your weekend fiasco is all over the news."
"Of course it is, considering I was the one who tipped off the paparazzi about it," I replied and controlled the urge to smirk. Mr. Anderson didn't react because he knew that already and that was the only reason he was here. He had never cared much about what the tabloids had to say about me or my lifestyle. He only reprimanded me when he wanted to uncover my real intentions.
"And what caused you to do that?" He asked in his usual tone. He was never fazed by my antics.
"Well, it was payback for withholding Jace's location," I shrugged in reply. "It'd be nice of you to remember that I don't like being lied to." Or worrying for two whole years about my brother's well being.
"I see," he muttered, and I nodded. "I apologize for distressing you, but it was necessary." Obviously, there had been a reason, just one that I wasn't privy to, but I'd do everything in my capacity to find out.
"Apology accepted, but I don't think that is going to undo the damage I have caused," I said with a small smile. Or more that I will cause.
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Serotonin
RomanceLife hasn't exactly been a walk in the park for America's ice princess Olivia Grace Whitmore. Orphaned, abandoned and exploited, she wears a strong impenetrable armour of coldness and indifference. But it all changes with a chance encounter with th...