“Yes, I am fully aware of Nelson’s attitude towards you. But don’t forget, when you were abandoned by your own son and had nowhere to go, it was I who helped you, ensuring your son abroad didn’t end up on the streets.”
Jaquan stated coldly, “Auntie, you should help me, shouldn’t you?”
The sea breeze blew mercilessly against Lucia. She gave a bitter smile, “If you threaten Nelson with me, he won’t come. You’re making a mistake.”
Her words carried the sorrow of a mother.
“That may not be the case. What if I beat you to death?”
Jaquan said lightly. Before Lucia could react, he waved his hand, signaling his men to move forward.
These were desperados, showing no mercy. Lucia was beaten to the ground. At her age, even a little force could be fatal.
Callie turned her head, unwilling to watch any longer.
Jaquan played with a lighter, lit a cigarette, and mumbled, “What time is it?”
No one responded for a while until Callie realized he was asking her. She looked at the time with difficulty, “Two-thirty.”
“Nelson’s boat will dock in ten minutes. Count the time.”
This was undoubtedly torture.
The sounds of fighting outside continued, as did Lucia’s painful cries. Callie was restless. She tried to roll up the car window, but Jaquan, without looking up, noticed and said, “Don’t close it.”
So Callie had to listen.
She felt cold all over.
Ten minutes, plus the time to get to the dock, would be enough to leave Lucia half-dead. Moreover, Callie thought… Nelson might not come…
She remembered when she was young, how Lucia’s indifference towards Nelson left him with psychological scars for a long time.
Children speak bluntly; she would always ask, “Nelson, do you miss Mom?”
Nelson always answered no, but there was always a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.
Callie knew he actually did miss her, but he couldn’t admit it.
Later on, when they met again, his feelings for this mother had turned into hatred.
“If you want to use Lucia against Nelson, forget it.” Callie endured the sounds outside and tried to reason with her, “Nelson won’t sacrifice his interests for her, let alone give Cyrus to you.”
Jaquan flicked ash from his cigarette and sneered, “I already said, I don’t want Cyrus. I just want him to return my goods.”
Clear purpose, equivalent exchange.
“He won’t come.”
Jaquan didn’t comment. After about ten minutes, a black vehicle slowly approached in the rearview mirror. In this quiet night, it was like a beam of light.
Jaquan curled his lips and said to Callie, “You still don’t understand him enough.”
With that, he opened the car door and got out.
Lucia had been beaten nearly to death, blood dripping from her mouth as she lay on the ground like a dog.
The back door of the black car opened, and a pair of exquisite leather shoes hit the ground first. The man wore only a black shirt. As he rolled up his sleeves and walked towards Jaquan, his demeanor was solemn and steady.
“Nelson…” Lucia tried to get up as if seeing her savior.
The darkness concealed Nelson’s features. He glanced at the person on the ground and slowly stopped. “Jaquan, what are you doing?”
The two men stood apart at a distance, their presence more intense than the night itself.
“Lucia stole something from me and refused to return it. I had no choice but to trouble you.”