Revenge After Death ( Michael Ford )
Chapter 349

I parked my car a distance away and walked to the demolition zone of Bridgeway Route. Steven remained silent throughout the journey. He was unsure how to stop me, yet also dissatisfied with my decision to meet Carol.

I felt furious with him because he consistently prevented me without providing any explanation. He should have clearly explained the reasons behind his actions. For instance, he could have mentioned that Carol tended to be aggressive and might cause harm to me.

Any valid explanation would have been acceptable to me. However, he chose to remain silent and stubbornly prevented me from proceeding. How could I be happy about it?

"Stephie..." Upon noticing my anger, he promptly bowed his head and meekly trailed behind me at a distance of three meters. Just as I was about to step into the demolition zone, he softly uttered my name.

I glanced back at him. He was tall and attractive, but appeared fragile when wearing an oversized sweater, as if he had been a target of bullying.

I scoffed and ignored him. I couldn't constantly compromise and cater to his every desire.

Seeing that I had ignored him, his eyes were a little red. He sniffed and continued to follow me, not too far away but not too close either.

I intentionally quickened my pace, as if I were flaunting my impatience.

I was an ordinary person. But then I discovered that my husband was keeping something from me and was protecting the person who killed me. It was only natural for me to feel angry about that.

Why should I be rational with my partner? I had every right to express my anger. Shouldn't he be able to handle my emotions and be honest with me?

Fuming with anger, I let out a deep growl before turning into an alley. The alley was in a state of disarray, with gangsters and homeless people smoking.

I had always harbored a deep fear of these individuals, likely because of the terrifying encounter I had with Michael at the Nocturnal Club.

"Hello there, gorgeous! How much is it?"

"Shall we?"

Those individuals used offensive language as if all women who visited this place were sex workers.

I attempted to disregard those individuals and leave swiftly. However, they persisted, using their hands to prevent me from moving. They also said offensive words to me.

I felt a twinge of fear and instinctively glanced around to locate Steven. As soon as I turned around, I found myself in his embrace. His strong arm surrounded me, and his soothing voice whispered, "I'm here." The men sneered, startled by Steven's chilling gaze. All of them instinctively backed away.

Steven grasped my hand and guided me down the lengthy alley.

"Steve, do you think I'm pretentious?" I asked him in a hushed tone.

He took my hand and glanced back at me. "Stephie, you asked me before. What does it feel like to be afraid? What does dependence feel like? What does fear feel like?"

He spoke softly as if talking to me but also to himself. "You mentioned feeling like a monster, lacking emotions, and longing for a normal life. You expressed envy towards those who seem carefree and those women who depend on men. You even shared a willingness to trade your intelligence and reason for a simpler existence."

He whispered, guiding me forward with careful steps. The alley stretched ahead, deep, long, and shrouded in darkness. It emanated a sense of dampness and endlessness.

At that moment, it seemed as though I had caught a glimpse of Steven in the past. As he walked into the alley in ill-fitting clothes, he solved one obstacle after another for me.

"So, Stephie, I won't think you're being pretentious. I'll be genuinely happy and overjoyed that you've finally achieved success and started a new life. This is what you've desired, and I only want to safeguard everything for you," Steven said, his voice tinged with emotion.

I couldn't quite understand what he said.

Did he imply that I used to be excessively intellectual, almost robotic, and devoid of emotions? Was he suggesting that I yearned to break free from the constraints of my high IQ and be less intellectual, all while embracing my humanity? Did he insinuate that I desired to be pretentious?

I furrowed my brow and seized his arm firmly. "So, what you're trying to say is that you still believe I am pretentious, huh?"

Steven smiled and shook his head innocently. "I don't."

I snorted, shook off Steven's hand, and went upstairs. He was constantly following me, not too close, not too far. His presence provided me with a sense of safety.

"Bitch! Why are you pretending?"

"Ah!"

I heard a scream followed by a man's cursing.

Suddenly, the door swung open. An infuriated man emerged from Carol's room, cursing, "200 dollars is more than enough for you."