Out of anger I left her alone as I do not want to do what i'll regret doing at the end of the day, I've once been called bad luck by my sister as I was the reason behind my mothers death, I was once called a bad luck as I was the reason to my step brother sitting on wheel chair, everyone calls me a bad luck due to a reason best known to them but nobody would believe me if i say i no nothing about it i was framed.
The pity look in her eyes made me feel defeated, made me feel i'm begging for attention, i just hate the feeling of looking at me with a pity face as i do not want anybody to ever see that vulnerable side of me.
Since you won't be telling me then, I would schedule a day to meet you.
Then I heard her say, you're a bad luck because the very first day we bumped into each other my mother died, literally you didn't kill my mother, my mother was sick and she died that day, that same day was when my Very own friend betray me by selling me off to my admirer who raped me all in the name of money. Well everything got better when you acted fairly, I appreciated that, then she came to me pointing at my chest, why would you come so late? Why didn't you come earlier? I hate you for that and you'll always be my bad luck she screamed.
Say that word again and you regret it for the rest of your life. I replied and she definitely call me that again with no pity look in her face as if it was not there.
A loud sound rang across everywhere, I slapped her for daring me to call me name I hate, badluck. After that I shouted angrily at her. I'm not bad luck and I'll never be bad luck.
I left angrily leaving her alone, and also not asking her the question, but i know very well people like her would want revenge as Her mother's death, and her being raped was not the only injustice she had suffered because of money.
I picked my phone then call me hacker. Check on Elorah about what hidden agenda she did to Catherine Mason five years ago, I want it in fifteen minutes, I said and hang the call before he could speak.
Getting to my Apartment i went to the torture room, straight to the Whipping machine, I click on 50 whips, the whip has some blades in it, I lay down under the whipping machine and press a red button that indicated start, and I go 50 lashes of the weeping machine for allowing my emotion to get over me to the extent I had to slap some I love, at that time i felt i never love her, I'm only obsessed probably because we only met once, and I accepted to the fact that I could have gotten there earlier it was due to my negligence and incompetence that allowed her to suffer a lot of injustice, I've never agreed I'm a bad luck but right now I'm truly abad luck to her, her alone. But the one who raped her will never go scot free I promised my self.
Weakly I picked my phone to call my Butler to help me out of the torture room, getting to the room he was shocked he help me to my room preparing to tends to my wound of which I stopped him, but not without explaining the reason behind it has he's the only one who has been loyal to me from the very day I lost my mother.
Catherine POV
Deep down, I knew what I did was wrong. He had helped return my necklace when I thought I had lost it five years ago. It was just a coincidence that on the day we bumped into each other, I had lost so much, yet he was able to read the room and give everyone what they deserved. Instead of shifting blame, I could have simply thanked him. I wouldn't deny that if nothing bad had happened that day, if things were easier for me, if something devastating didn't happen to me, perhaps I would have clumsily tried to trick him to be my friend or maybe more than a friend. I regretted losing control of my emotions completely.
He had been gentle enough to come looking for me after I ran out of the restaurant. If it had been anyone else, they wouldn't have bothered. Yet I pushed him away, called him what he's not. Through it all, I noticed how he had stayed with me from the evening into the dawn, silent, patient, yet present, even when he had a motive. It should have moved me more, but I let pride and emotion take over instead, all because I don't trust anyone. I have no intention of ever trusting anyone. The journey of revenge I am on might affect anyone who gets close to me. At least Dr. Felix can protect himself. But what about him? I don't know him, and I don't know his intentions. The truth is, I had lost my ability to feel.
I stood, refusing to beg him out of pride, but at the same time, I wanted to know what he wanted from me. He kept stepping on my nerves, and in the process, I saw myself in him, his struggle, as he refrained himself not to lay his hand on me while I was answering his question with question, and then I saw beyond his struggle, I saw betrayal, hurt, by someone and also the weight of something important he held onto. The difference was that I have nothing like that to hold onto.
Seeing his struggle, his inner turmoil, something so hidden that nobody else could notice, made me open up, finally, to why I called him bad luck. But I did not want him to see me as weak, so I called him the name he detested: bad luck. He had warned me against it, but my pride would not allow me to stay silent. If only I had known…
He slapped me. I would say it was as if he slapped sense into me. And yet, I could see his regret immediately, as if he knew he had gone too far, as if he blamed himself. I had never seen anyone show regret for hurting me, and it stirred something I could not name.
Still, it made me want to understand him more, to know the reason behind the hidden emotions he carried. And now, I found myself anticipating the day he would call to tell me the reason why he wanted to see me.
But who exactly is Elorah to him, I just hope the bond between them wouldn't thwart my revenge