Leland Burns was dead? How could he be dead? Just last month, he was fine and had just been sent to prison. How could he be dead in such a short time?
Winifred Dawson was in a daze when she received the news at seven in the evening. She was sitting by the seaside, enjoying the cool breeze. The moment she learned of Leland Burns’ death, a chill ran through her body, and she couldn’t help but shiver as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over her in the middle of winter.
Liam Burkhart was the one who told her the news. Leland Burns had died unexpectedly in prison, and his body had already been taken away by his former subordinates.
The subordinates Liam Burkhart mentioned were undoubtedly Wesley and Henry.
“He can’t be dead!” Winifred Dawson gritted her teeth, holding her phone tightly with her right hand while clutching the wooden chair beneath her with her left. A sharp pain shot through her palm.
She felt disoriented as if she were in a dream, but the sharp pain brought her back to reality.
Liam Burkhart laughed on the phone, “At first, I thought it was fake too, but after thorough investigation, it’s confirmed that Leland Burns is dead. Isn’t that good news? Shouldn’t you be happy?”
Happy? She should indeed be happy that Leland Burns was dead. She had feared that he would come after her once he got out after twenty years. But now that he was dead, those worries would never come to pass.
Yet for some reason, Winifred Dawson couldn’t feel happy. Instead, she felt an emptiness inside her, like a hole through which the cold sea breeze blew freely.
Winifred Dawson cursed Leland Burns for being despicable, but now she realized she wasn’t much better herself.
She laughed self-deprecatingly.
“Are you happy now?” Liam Burkhart asked again after hearing her laugh on the phone. “What are your plans for the future?”
Winifred Dawson replied coldly, “What I do is none of your business.”
“Don’t be so distant. After all, we’ve worked together before. Now that Leland Burns is dead, you should think about your future. How about coming out to the club tonight? I’ll buy you a drink and we can talk about what’s next.”
Going out for drinks this late only meant she’d end up being devoured by Liam Burkhart’s schemes. Winifred Dawson knew exactly what he was up to.
Seeing no response from Winifred Dawson, Liam Burkhart continued, “Miss Dawson, have you thought about my previous proposal?”
Winifred Dawson’s face darkened at the mention of it. “No way. Don’t even think about it.”
“Marrying me has many advantages, Miss Dawson. You’re beautiful and wealthy; to others, you’re like a piece of meat everyone wants a bite of. If you don’t want to be devoured completely, you’d better find a capable family for protection-someone like me. Marry me and I’ll cherish you; I won’t let any harm come to you. I won’t even mind your past with Leland Burns.”
“No thanks. I appreciate your offer, Mr. Whitlock, but I can protect myself. If you want to marry someone, find someone else.”
Rejected without hesitation, Liam Burkhart sighed. This was the third time he’d proposed to Winifred Dawson and each time she refused him bluntly.
He used to look down on Winifred Dawson, thinking she was just someone ruined by Leland Burns. But after what happened with Leland Burns, he found himself wanting her yet not daring to take action-a tantalizing desire that made his heart itch.
People are like delicacies; the more unattainable they are, the more one wants them. But he wouldn’t force himself on Winifred Dawson; after all, he knew better than anyone how Leland Burns met his end.
“Alright then, if Miss Dawson isn’t interested, I won’t push it. If you encounter any trouble in the future, feel free to contact me and we can discuss it further.”
After hearing this, Winifred Dawson hung up the phone with a cold expression.
She could clearly sense Liam Burkhart’s threat. Who did he think he was?
This place was no longer safe; she needed to leave as soon as possible.
Winifred Dawson thought of Leland Burns again. They say evildoers live long lives; although Liam Burkhart’s information said Leland Burns was truly dead, Winifred Dawson still didn’t believe it. Without seeing his body herself, she couldn’t believe he was gone.
She suspected this might be one of Leland Burns’ tricks to fake his death and escape prison.
Could such a thing really happen?
The pain in her palm grew sharper. Winifred Dawson raised her hand and looked at her palm under the moonlight; a wooden splinter had lodged itself there and blood was oozing from the wound.
Without flinching, Winifred Dawson pulled out the splinter as the sea breeze grew colder.
She wore a blue dress with a jacket when she went out but now even with the jacket wrapped tightly around her, she still felt cold.
When she heard about Leland Burns’ death earlier, goosebumps had instantly covered her skin.
Winifred Dawson stood up and stumbled slightly as if losing control of her body. She hadn’t sat there long but her legs were already numb from the cold.
As she staggered back home, her mind felt like a tangled mess of yarn-confused and directionless in the dark night.
When she finally reached home, Mrs. Protich had just returned from her walk. She had been with Winifred Dawson for a month now, mainly cleaning and cooking meals.
Though Winifred Dawson seemed aloof by nature, she was actually an easy-going employer who paid well-much higher than what Leland Burns used to pay Mrs. Protich by several hundred dollars.
Living by the seaside was quite pleasant; after dinner one could take walks along the shore and occasionally snap some photos for social media to make others envious.
Seeing Winifred Dawson approaching from afar, Mrs. Protich greeted her: “Miss Dawson, why are you back so early today?”
Winifred Dawson usually went for walks every evening after dinner around six and wouldn’t return until eight. But today it was only half-past seven when she came back.
Winifred Dawson didn’t answer Mrs. Protich’s question which puzzled her until she noticed how pale Winifred looked up close-she had left home looking fine but returned looking frozen stiff.
Mrs. Protich quickly approached and asked if Winifred felt unwell or needed anything.
Winifred heard Mrs. Protich’s concern but couldn’t speak due to a lump in her throat; instead of forcing herself to talk she remained silent letting Mrs. Protich hold her cold hands while feeling her forehead for feverish signs.
Having a daughter herself made it easy for Mrs. Protich to see Winifred as another daughter figure especially when caring for someone so vulnerable at that moment
Winifred’s hands were ice-cold yet touching her forehead showed no fever signs-the chilly sea breeze must have caused this chill making prolonged exposure risky
Mrs. Protich led Winifred inside seating her down before offering hot water which Winifred obediently drank-a stark contrast from usual behavior