Chapter 2

Fed up, I closed my eyes and rested, refusing to say another word.

When the car pulled into the courtyard, Connor reached out to take my hand.

I shifted away, dodging his touch.

"Better not. Someone might get jealous," I said.

After all, I'd written three sworn statements promising absolutely no physical contact with Connor. That was the only way I could come back.

Connor grinned fondly. "Reagan's not here, so I can hold your hand."

The next second, Reagan's syrupy voice drifted over.

"Caroline, welcome back! And welcome to my place," she said.

I looked around the place. This was the villa my parents left me. When did it turn into her place?

I might be done with the guy, but there was no way I was giving up my money.

I shoved the bouquet aside and shot her a cold look, asking, "So, I've been gone a while. Did the law start protecting home-stealers now?"

Reagan's smile froze, and the next second, her eyes welled up with tears.

"I'm sorry, Caroline. I never meant to take over your home," she said. "The consultant said the energy here was perfect for conception, and it was in this very place that I became pregnant with Sarah.

"Connor thought I'd be happy here, so he never asked me to leave. If you want, I can move out right away."

She paced back and forth, looking lost.

"Sorry to trouble you, Connor, could you see us off..." she started, then hesitated. "No, that's not right. Connor belongs to you too. I should go on my own."

Her hands shook uncontrollably. "It's okay. I can manage..."

Connor stepped forward, gently soothing her as he took her hand. "Don't be afraid. You're not the one who should leave."

He turned to me, his gaze shadowed.

"Reagan was up early getting things ready for your return," he said. "Instead of being grateful, you're giving her a hard time over something as trivial as a house. Apologize!"

Back then, I used to be scared stiff whenever Connor got angry. Even if he sounded a little annoyed, I'd force a smile and apologize right away.

But now, I just chuckled.

"Sorry," I said. "I almost forgot. You're really good at taking what doesn't belong to you. Garbage is whatever, but this house? You really don't deserve it."

Reagan's face turned deathly pale, tears falling in big drops.

Connor snapped at me, "Caroline, apologize to Reagan, then get out!"

I shot him a look. "Why should I apologize? No way am I apologizing. If you think I'm slandering you, feel free to call the cops.

"And as for leaving, if you're still here in thirty minutes, I'll happily call the police and the media myself."

Just then, a kid burst out of the house and started hitting me with all his might.

"Don't bully my mom, you bad woman!" the kid shouted. "General, get her! Bite her!"

A huge Mastiff barreled out, heading straight for me.

Instinctively, I cried out, "Connor, I'm scared of dogs!"

The next second, a searing pain shot through my right hand.

I glanced at my wound, only to meet the Mastiff's piercing eyes. Suddenly, memories of being kidnapped at fifteen crashed over me.

Back then, when I tried to run, the kidnappers unleashed more than a dozen dogs to tear me apart. I barely survived.

Since then, dogs had haunted my nightmares.

Those fierce eyes locked onto mine, just like the ones from my past, and a tidal wave of suffocation crashed over me.

I fell hard to the ground, Connor's panicked voice ringing out behind me. "Caroline!"

When I opened my eyes again, Connor was right there, watching over me by the hospital bed.

My arm still had that dull ache, and the doctor shot me a regretful look.

"Ms. Landry, the wound isn't deep, but it did hit a nerve. It won't mess with your daily life, but... you may never be able to play the piano again," he said softly.

It felt like a knife had been stabbed right into my heart.

I was born into a family of pianists, and thanks to my talent, I'd won more awards than I could count.

My nimble hands were my greatest pride.

And now, because of a bunch of nobodies, the career I was so proud of was destroyed.

Connor's eyes were filled with guilt and concern. "I'm so sorry, Caroline. This is on me..."

I ignored him and pulled out my phone to call the police. "Hello, I need to report a crime. Someone ordered a vicious dog to attack me—attempted murder."

Connor snatched my phone away. "Caroline, Sarah's just a kid. Even if you call the cops, all you'll get is a slap on the wrist—a fine, nothing more. Just tell me how much. I'll cover it."

I let out a cold laugh. "Rest assured, I won't leave a single cent of compensation unclaimed.

"But more importantly, I want your daughter's life to be forever stained by this crime, and I want Reagan to never get her hands on that monster again!"