I Hate You But Couldn't Let You GoChapter 1
The purest hatred between me and Noreen began that year.
Noreen killed the dog I had raised for ten years—just to protect her little assistant.
In revenge, I stabbed that assistant five times, savoring his crazed screams as though admiring a work of art.
Everyone thought Noreen would take my life for it.
Instead, she simply tossed a divorce agreement in my face, her voice cold as ice.
"You're nothing but the Carter family's dog. Since you've gone rabid, then leave now!"
That night, I disappeared.
Five years later, I returned, standing in for my father at a grand banquet. That's where I saw Noreen's little assistant again.
He splashed red wine across my clothes and spat mockingly, "Well, look who it is. Turns out you're the dog Carter family cast aside."
I grabbed a champagne bottle and smashed it over his head.
"It's been five years and yet you still haven't learned how to act human? Tonight, I'll teach you myself."
——
Maxwell's scream split through the hall.
A group of his lackeys rushed forward, shielding him, shouting at me.
"Who the hell are you? Do you even know who you just hit?"
"He's the Carter family's precious princess's fiancé! Offend him, and Miss Noreen will destroy you!"
One sneered, blocking my way.
"Everyone knows Miss Noreen dotes on her man. Maxwell gets a single scratch, and she's ready to flip the world upside down. And you—you smashed his head open. I'd like to see how you survive this!"
Blood streamed down Maxwell's forehead as he glared at me, his face twisted with rage.
"Listen to me, Colin. Five years ago, I was merciful and let you live. Don't think I'll be merciful now! You're nothing but the dog Noreen raised at home. If I could destroy you once, I can destroy you again!"
I studied him.
I had to admit, Noreen had raised him well.
The man who once stammered and only dared whisper “Mr. Alba” to me now had the audacity to threaten me publicly.
But unfortunately for him, I've never been anyone's pushover.
Not five years ago.
Not now.
Surrounded by his lackeys, I glanced down at the broken glass scattered across the floor. Slowly, under everyone's stunned gaze, I crouched and picked up a blood-stained shard. I smiled.
"Maxwell."
I walked toward him, step by step.
"Five years ago," I twirled the shard in my hand, its edge biting into my palm, "I gave you too much face."
My eyes dropped to his stomach.