Chapter 89: Wanna Play?

From the moment she arrived at the Domino house, North heard Mr. and Mrs. Domino's incessant quarreling. Mrs. Domino constantly berated her mother, calling her a vixen and a shameless bitch. Later, she turned her venom on North, calling her a little bastard and slut. North had witnessed Mr. Domino physically assault Mrs. Domino, once even knocking her from her wheelchair.

Now an adult, North understood Mrs. Domino's hatred. Her mother had had an affair with Mr. Domino; the affair had resulted in her parents' deaths and Mrs. Domino's incapacitation. Little wonder, after the car accident, Robertson's relatives and friends shunned North, refusing to help.

But North struggled to believe her mother's infidelity. Gloria had been beautiful, intelligent, and gentle. She always waited up for Robertson's return from work. North remembered their peaceful family life. The reality, however, shattered her idyllic memories.

Her phone vibrated; Raven was calling. North silently thanked the phone's manufacturers for its robust waterproof design. She answered.

"North, where are you? It's raining," Raven's low voice sounded.

North touched her face, wet with rain or tears, she wasn't sure. "I'm not alright. I'll come find you."

"Don't come, Raven, please don't," North pleaded.

Raven was silent. North hung up. She'd overheard his conversation with his mother; Raven was the cruelest, most despicable man she knew. He'd lured her into love, the hunter to her prey.

On her eighteenth birthday, intoxicated and feverish, she'd gone to his room and into his bed. That night, he'd made love to her, murmuring Pamela's name. When others entered the room, he'd slapped her. The caring Raven vanished, replaced by a cruel, hypocritical being. His hatred for her mother had been transferred to her, destroying her body and spirit.

She'd left the Domino family and Los Angeles that day. For two years, she'd privately healed her broken heart, transforming herself into a guarded, unapproachable person, determined to avoid further hurt. But why did she still ache so deeply?

North hugged herself, sobbing in the freezing rain. Raven watched from a distance. After she left Los Angeles and launched her entertainment career, he'd secretly orchestrated everything—her production team, every scene, the directors, and writers—all vetted by him. Reaching her prime, beautiful and desirable, she lacked the experience to navigate men's advances. Her phone, identical to his, allowed him to track her location and monitor her life.

North's clothes were soaked. He longed to embrace her, but he couldn't.

At the Red Villa, Elvis emerged from the Rolls-Royce Phantom, carrying the drowsy Olive. Olive nestled comfortably against his shirt collar, rubbing her face like a kitten. Madam Samantha was asleep. Elvis gently put Olive down; she stumbled. He caught her, pulling her close. Olive clung to his neck, her hands tracing his abdomen.

"Such a great physique. You must be amazing in bed," she mumbled.

Elvis cleared his throat, removing her mask. Her face was flushed and tender.

"Sexy Mr. Augustine, I want to spoil you tonight," she murmured, her voice slightly slurred.

Elvis smirked at her drunken state. "I'm very expensive. Can you afford me?"

"Yes, I can."

Olive, aware of his attractiveness and strength, reached into her pocket and produced a single coin.