Chapter 225 Her Own Name

    Chapter 225 Her Own Name

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    The moment Marcus raised his hand, Jonathan caught his wrist and twisted it back in one sharp move. A crack echoed, and Marcus howled in pain.

    Anneliese held Jessica tightly in front of her, soothingly patting her back. She rose on her toes, craning her neck to look. Jonathan had Marcus pinned against the wall, one arm bent cruelly behind him, and in that instant, he seemed lit from within–dazzlingly striking.

    “Ahh–Mr. Fullbuster…” Marcus groaned.

    “I let her do whatever she wants,” Jonathan said coolly. “And I don’t like anyone pointing their finger at my fiancee.” As he spoke, his foot came down squarely on Marcus‘ fallen sses. The lenses shattered under his weight with a chilling crunch.

    To Marcus, it felt less like Jonathan had stepped on the sses than on his spine, grinding his pride into dust.

    The Johnsons were Baytree’s wealthiest family, bullies who ruled their turf. Marcus himself had always been arrogant, untouchable. Wherever he went, people bent to give him respect. Never had he been humiliated like this.

    His face flushed crimson as he rasped, “Mr. Fullbuster, you and Joel are friends, aren’t you? My family and the Cahans of Oceaton are kin. Why risk enmity with us for a stranger?

    “Besides, Queenie was my sister. She was rebellious and ran away from home. As her brother, I only meant to discipline her and bring her back. Our parents have been heartsick, our mother bedridden from grief…”

    Afraid Jonathan might fall for his act, Anneliese cut him off sharply. “If your family misses your dead sister so much, why don’t you all join her? Stop using grief as an excuse to torment innocent people, dressing up your twisted, selfish obsession as mourning. It’s disgusting.”

    She tightened her grip on Jessica’s hand, lending her strength, then nodded at Jonathan to let Marcus go. Looking Jessica in the eye, she urged, “Jess, don’t be afraid. Show him who you really are.”

    Jessica’s hands were ice cold, but Anneliese’s steady gaze gave her courage. The fear in her eyes steadied into resolve. She turned, her voice raw but clear. “I am Jessica Sweeting, not Queenie Johnson! Whatever the Johnson Family spent raising me, I paid back long ago. I have nothing to do with you now, and I never will again!”

    Over thest three years, she had wired money to the Johnsons in three separate installments from different overseas ounts–enough to repay every penny. It was both a way to sever ties

    Chapter 225 Her Own Name

    and to mislead their search. They truly believed she had fled abroad.

    “Queenie…” Marcus began.

    “Don’t call me Queenie! I’m not her. Do you not understand English?” Jessica roared.

    b40 /b

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    Marcus had never seen her like this before. His eyes grew dark, shadowed. iSo/ii, /iithe /iilittle /ibeast we itamed /iihas /iifound /iiher /iifangs /iiagain/ii. /iiInteresting/ii. /iiBut /iidoes /iishe /iireally /iithink /iithis /iimeans /iishe /iican /iiescape /iime/ii? /i

    “Let’s go.” Anneliese stepped forward, blocking Marcus‘ line of sight and guiding Jessica toward the stairs. Jonathan gave Marcus onest cold nce before following them down.

    In the car, Anneliese kept Jessica’s hand in hers. Jessica leaned against her shoulder, drained.

    As the car rolled out of the vi district, Anneliese nced out the window and caught sight of a familiar face. It was the middle–aged woman she had once argued with at the Patek Philippe store, now walking with a boy of four or five.

    The woman’s features tugged at her memory, and Anneliese twisted in her seat to look again— but the car had already passed them, and she never saw the child’s face.

    “What is it?” Jessica asked, lifting her head.

    Anneliese quickly looked away. “Nothing. Get some rest. I’ll wake you when we’re home.”

    Back at Maple Bay, Anneliese prepared a light chicken noodle soup for Jessica, stayed with her through dinner, then helped her bathe and dry her hair. Running her fingers through the uneven strands, she couldn’t help but feel a pang. Jessica had once worn a neat bob, glossy and ttering. Now it was hacked short and ragged.

    “We’ll go fix it tomorrow,” Anneliese said softly.

    Jessica gave a faint smile. “It’s fine. I was tired of that cut anyway. Something even shorter might suit me better.”