Chapter 12 Avenging Her

Waverly affectionately wrapped her arms around Casimir's, saying sweetly, "Caz, it's been a while since we've had a date. A new movie's out; perhaps we could—"

Casimir interrupted. "I'm not free lately."

"Don't you have time in the evening? Watching a movie wouldn't take long."

"I've just started a new project, so I'll be working late almost every night. Be good. I'll spend time with you when I can."

Casimir disengaged her arm without emotion. Tears welled in Waverly's eyes.

"Caz, is it that you don't like me anymore and have fallen for Raylee?"

Instead of answering directly, Casimir reassured her, "I will marry you. You were always my intended; we just missed eighteen years together. Anyway, I have things to attend to, so I'll be going now. Don't let your imagination run wild."

Watching Casimir leave, jealousy and anger burned in Waverly's eyes. Four years ago, she, a simple country girl, had rejoined the Goodridge family. Then, she was plump and plain, lacking any particular talents, and insecure, feeling inadequate for Casimir. Several years of dedicated self-improvement, including aesthetic treatments, had transformed her into a captivating beauty. How could Casimir possibly overlook her? This was all because of Raylee! Why had she returned?

Raylee remained at Vera's bedside until nightfall, then returned to her job at the bar. Worried about her injuries, Samuel went to the bar.

"Oh no, there's an incident in the changing room! It seems one of the new hires is being assaulted!"

"The attacker's a top prison dog. I heard she just got out of Jexburgh Women's Prison!"

"As a prison bully, she'll be ruthless. I bet she'll beat the poor girl to death!"

Samuel panicked, immediately asking a server for the changing room's location. Hearing screams from inside, he knew it was Raylee—a new hire, and her voice! The bully and Raylee were both from Jexburgh Women's Prison; they must have clashed, and the bully wouldn't let it go. The thought of Raylee enduring continued harassment enraged him; he wished he could obliterate everyone who had ever bullied her.

He was about to intervene when a woman blocked the door. "Boss is teaching that pathetic—"

"Get lost!" Samuel snapped.

The woman scoffed. "Oh? What circles are you in? You're audacious! Our boss is a top prison dog. Offend her, and you'll regret it!"

Samuel's anger exploded. He flung the woman against the wall, the sound of breaking bones echoing. He stormed into the changing room.

A large, imposing woman, tattooed with a blue dragon, was tormenting a frail, petite woman whose long, wet hair hid her face. Though he couldn't see her clearly, Samuel was certain it was Raylee. The bully burned the woman's face with a cigarette and poured boiling water from a kettle onto her. The petite woman screamed in agony. The bully laughed wildly.

Samuel advanced, his anger blazing. He grabbed the bully's hair, dragged her like a lifeless dog, and savagely stomped on her stomach. She spat out blood, her face contorted in agony. She screamed, "Who are you? I don't recognize you!"

"I'm Raylee Goodridge's older brother. Hmph, you dare bully Raylee? You're asking for trouble!"

His eyes locked on the bully, anger flickering within them. He moved toward the injured woman to help. Up close, he noticed a large black birthmark on her forehead. Brushing away her hair, he realized it wasn't Raylee. He'd been mistaken! Relief and helplessness washed over him.

The bully asked, surprised, "Raylee Goodridge? The one from the women's prison?"

"How could I not know her? We shared a dorm room! Was this how you usually treated her?"

The bully remained silent under his intense interrogation. Samuel grabbed her and slammed her onto a table.

"Tell me, how did you usually treat her?" His handsome face was grim.

The bully, writhing in pain, confessed, "That wimp was powerless. Bullying her was amusing at first. Eventually, just raising my hand scared her stiff! There was no fun after that."

"So you burned her with cigarettes, held her head underwater, scalded her with boiling water, beat her at will…" With each word, Samuel landed another blow, cursing, "Damn it, I'll end you!"

The near-death bully threatened, "I'm a relative of the Jexburgh Lorimer family. Kill me, and they won't let you off the hook!"

A Lorimer relative? Samuel, retaining a sliver of sanity, stopped. The bully, seizing the opportunity, hobbled away.

Outside, a woman in a Chanel dress and impeccable makeup emerged from the restroom. Seeing the blood-covered bully, she was momentarily stunned.

"Ms. Layla, save me!" the bully cried.

"You are…" Layla Lorimer stared, unable to immediately recognize her.

"I'm Wanda Stokes, Ms. Tiffany Lorimer's mother's cousin's daughter. Someone's trying to kill me!"

Layla knew Wanda—a relative who used the Lorimer name to intimidate. She disliked Wanda, considering her Tiffany's half-sister (different mothers, same father), and Tiffany's maternal relatives held no importance to her. But seeing Samuel emerge from the changing room stunned her.

"Ms. Layla, he's trying to kill me!" Wanda pleaded, hiding behind Layla.

"Layla? What are you doing here?" Samuel recognized her instantly.

"Samuel… Long time no see." Layla's eyes were clear, reflecting his image. "We haven't seen each other in about five years, right?"

Samuel's angry expression shifted to bewilderment.