He approached step by step. “Why are you running? Hmm?”
When he spoke, his lips seemed tinged with blood.
Callie desperately tried to break free, unwilling to back down. “Then why are you chasing me?”
Nelson tightened his grip. “If the cat I raised wants to run, how can I not chase after it?”
Callie looked around. The place she lived was very secluded; no one would respond if she called for help.
“You can raise a lot of other cats. What right do you have to say that?”
“What if she bites me back?”
Callie stared at him intensely. “What if you force her to?”
Her eyes reddened as she shouted back. Nelson paused slightly, loosening his grip a bit.
Callie’s stomach churned, and unable to hold it in, she vomited all over him.
She was always frugal and stayed in inexpensive hotels. Jaquan had upgraded her room, but she had exchanged it for money.
The place she lived was cramped.
Upon entering, there was a small sofa, a single bed to the right, a full-length mirror in front, and a very small bathroom.
If he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, Nelson would never have thought Ylosea had such hotels.
This was Ylosea, a first-tier city with two ports, billion-dollar apartments, gold-plated ships, and private jets parked in the airport. Ylosea was prosperous and thriving, a metropolis.
But this place was dirty, messy, and undignified.
Nelson rarely frowned.
Callie didn’t dare look into his eyes and awkwardly pushed him into the bathroom. “Clean yourself up first.”
She believed that if she hadn’t been so unwilling, Nelson would have turned and left.
Clothes were everywhere. Callie tidied up a bit and boiled some water in the kettle.
Nelson took off his coat and placed it aside. Just as he turned on the water, he heard a “bang.” Through the gap, he could see Callie crouching on the floor, busy cleaning up.
He couldn’t describe the feeling that spread through his heart.
He felt a bit smug; without him, Callie’s life was like this-mired in mud.
Yet it was laughable. Living like this, she still wouldn’t bow her head and come to him. Truly stubborn.
But such stubbornness was like grass; it bent easily.
Callie took advantage of Nelson still being in the bathroom to run downstairs and buy some temporary supplies and motion sickness medicine.
Crossing the street, she saw Nelson’s car still parked by the roadside, looking understatedly luxurious under the streetlights.
She paused for a moment.
Buying a car in five minutes-their lives were worlds apart.
When Callie ran back upstairs, Nelson had just come out of the bathroom.
The man stood over six feet tall, making the cramped space feel even smaller. He held her towel, looking very comical.
Callie stood there, her face heating up under his scrutiny.
She gripped the plastic bag tightly and said almost defiantly, “You don’t need to mock me or look down on me. I’m already looking for a place I can rent long-term.”
Nelson said nothing, just stared at her.
Callie’s inferiority complex flared up, and she began to regret bringing him up here.
She walked over, grabbed the towel from him, and put it away while muttering, “Are you alright? Once you’re cleaned up, you should leave. If they come looking for you and something happens to you, how will I explain it?”
Still shaken from earlier, her eyes were red-rimmed.
Nelson closed the door behind him, pinched her chin, and asked again, “Why were you running?”
Callie remembered what she had seen not long ago and awkwardly tried to shake him off.
She had a cleanliness obsession; sharing her things with others made her feel disgusted.