Chapter 97: A Promise for Justice

Sierra pressed her lips together, remaining silent for a long time. After a while, she turned to Jonathan, a cold glint flashing in her eye.

“Mr. Yeager, can you look into that club for me?”

Jonathan’s gaze landed on her. “What are you planning to do?”

Sierra glanced toward the bathroom door, which remained tightly shut. Her voice was firm. “Now that he calls me sister, I can’t just stand by and watch him get bullied.”

“Sierra, those people—you can’t afford to make enemies of them,” Jonathan reminded her, acknowledging the reality of the situation.

“I know!” Sierra let out a small laugh, her lips curling slightly upward, her eyes filled with icy resolve. “But I still want justice for Dickson. If I can’t do it now, then I’ll do it in the future. One day, I will make them pay.”

Jonathan watched her quietly. For a moment, he wanted to ask, Is it really worth it? To bring so much trouble upon yourself for someone who isn’t even that important to you? Help you investigate? But looking into Sierra’s unwavering eyes, the words stuck in his throat. Instead, he sighed lightly. “But promise me you won’t act recklessly.”

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.” Sierra smiled, but instead of reassuring him, it only made Jonathan feel more uncertain.

As they spoke, the bathroom door creaked open. Dickson emerged, his face still pale, but he looked better than before. Seeing Sierra and Jonathan waiting for him, he forced a weak smile.

“Sierra, Mr. Yeager. I’m sorry for making you worry. I should have let you know where I was.”

Sierra remained silent for a moment before speaking. “Dickson, if you don’t want to smile, then don’t. I’ve told you before, we’re family. You don’t have to hide your feelings in front of me.”

The moment she said those words, Dickson’s eyes reddened. He lowered his head, struggling for control over his emotions. Finally, his voice choked with tears, he looked up at her and asked, “Sierra, I just want to live a normal life. But why is even that so hard?”

Sierra felt as if someone had punched her in the gut. She opened her mouth, wanting to comfort him, but no words came out. And now that he had started, Dickson could no longer hold back. Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed.

“They lied to me. They called and told me to come pick up my unpaid wages. I went because that money was rightfully mine. But when I got there… they…”

He choked on his words, his hands clenched into fists. “I didn’t even do anything to them this time. I didn’t break anything. So why did they treat me like this? Is it because I have no power? Because I have no status? Because I’m an easy target?”

His voice grew hysterical, his body trembling violently. “They didn’t even see me as a person! I fought back, but they just laughed. They threw money at me. I don’t want their money! I just wanted them to stop! But I didn’t even have a choice! Sierra, is this what my life is going to be like forever?”

The room was filled with the sound of his broken sobs.

“No,” Sierra’s voice was low but unwavering.

Dickson didn’t respond. His eyes were dull, completely devoid of hope. Seeing him like this, Sierra saw herself from years ago. She stepped forward, her expression serious. “Dickson, do you trust me?”

Dickson stared at her. She was smaller than him, frail-looking, as if he could snap her in half with one hand. But the determination in her eyes made him instinctively nod his head.

Sierra smiled. Then, with a firm, steady voice, she said, “Believe me, one day, I will make them pay for what they did to you.”

Even after Sierra reassured him, Dickson still refused to go to the hospital. She didn’t force him, instead helping him get to his room so he could rest.

Once the door closed, the smile on Sierra’s face slowly faded. Jonathan’s voice called out softly, “Sierra!”

She turned to look at him. Her voice was calm. The questions he’d asked… they were the same ones she’d once asked herself. Her left hand absentmindedly moved to touch her wrist. Jonathan’s sharp eyes followed her movement. There, on her wrist, was a faint but unmistakable scar. His brows furrowed slightly.

Sierra didn’t notice his reaction. Her voice remained light, as if she were telling someone else’s story. “Back then, when I was being bullied, I asked myself why me? Why did I have to suffer so much? Was I really destined to live like this forever?”

Her fingers traced the scar on her wrist. Her voice grew even softer. “At one point, I thought leaving this world would be the only escape. I figured… no one cared about me anyway. But I survived.”

Sierra lifted her head, meeting his gaze. “And when I did, I realized—I didn’t want to die anymore.”