Seduced for Revenge のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 141 - チャプター 150

Regina made small talk. She asked about my business, and I replied as if I was there to pitch her a building proposal, the only way I knew how. We discussed the island project and the historical restoration in France because those were the ones she knew about. The island hotel would be operational soon, and I wanted to take her there for the ribbon-cutting ceremony, but I knew that was not happening. She would be in France for the next three months, and I doubt Regina would break her plans for me. “Don’t enjoy your time in France so much that you forget me, okay?” I joked, but my message was genuine. She did not smile, but kept her head down. “I have a place on the third floor of the El Vénétie, at the top of Francois’ restaurant. They finally got a vacancy and gave it to me. Let me know if you want it, and you can stay there rent-free.” “Thanks, that’s a nice offer, but I would like to live on my own in France. It’s the whole point of finding myself.” Regina pulled her hand away,

“Hey, I found these on the board up there,” Raffy said, showing the pictures he took of the postings. Maggie began mapping out the places, and since a few of them were already in the area, they decided to drop by after lunch. “I didn’t realize we were in the University district. This is so cool. I feel like a student again.” “This is a good time to explore Paris and fall in love,” Maggie said in a dream-like tone. Regina laughed. “Always the romantic. I’m here to find myself, remember?” “You’re single. Finding yourself can mean finding a French guy or two. French men are very suave and sophisticated lovers.” “And how did you learn that?” Raffy asked as he nibbled on his wife’s neck. “Raf, let me go!” She giggled and pushed her husband playfully. Regina had to look away. It reminded her of the reason she needed to get away from her family and people she knew were happy. After lunch, they visited a few apartments, and Regina liked most of them, but they were above her price range

After her class, Regina headed to the market to get ingredients for a pasta recipe she was cooking. Her schoolmates invited her to have dinner, but after the incident back home, she seldom spent time out after dark, afraid that in this new city, something bad might happen to her again. At her new apartment, she opened the windows to the cool dry summer breeze and played the album she brought from an outdoor stall. She had purchased the record player earlier during the week and was happy it worked. Regina had the AC turned on during the hottest part of the day, but she wanted to hear the sounds of Paris at night. Under the moonlight, she began writing the letters she would send home. She would send each of her family members a letter for them to understand why she was in France. It was a tedious task, repeating the same reason four times and writing them by hand. It made Regina wish there was a way to write it faster, but using the computer felt impersonal. She owed her family a hear

It’s been two months since Regina left, and Owen had never felt more lost in his life. “Mom, are you there? Can you hear me?” He said as he sat on the chair beside his mother's bed. The TV was on, but he didn’t know if she was watching or not. “Sometimes I just wish you wouldn’t disappear all the time.” He kneeled at her bedside and laid his head near her hand. “I need you right now, Mom. I wish you could hear me.” Before his mother got sick, they would often have heart-to-heart talks, where he told her how he felt and what bothered him while she imparted knowledge and love. Owen sighed heavily. ‘What’s the use of being here when I can’t talk to you? I should leave before I wake you up.’ He wiped his tears with the back of his hand and was about to stand up when his mom’s hand shot out to grab his arm. “Owie, what is wrong? Who made you cry?” It was the nickname they used when Myles and Yvan were born. None of them could say Owen, calling him Owie instead. “Oh, Mom,” Owen brok

That night, our family headed home only after the other guests had all gone home. My parents wanted to show our support to Mrs. Bennet and their family, and though my two older brothers left earlier, Raffy and I stayed with our parents. I wanted to show Owen I was there for him, even though he did not know I was alive. In my haste to leave, I forgot the black elbow-length gloves I wore as part of my outfit. I had a black conservative knee-length short-sleeve dress with a funeral hat and veil to appear sophisticated. At sixteen, I wanted to be viewed as a young woman and not as a kid anymore, but being an adult was such hard work. I took the gloves off as it was getting hot, and my hands were getting clammy since I was not used to wearing such things. I found them on the seat where I left them, and I was thankful because my mother would have scolded me for losing something she lent me. Just when I was about to head out, I heard someone moaning. I froze, scared it was Uncle Richard