My First Love Died, Now My Step Uncle Wants Me-Chapter 111: That Night

The room wasn’t large. The lights were off, leaving it pitch-black without a single ray of light.

Nina was instantly reminded of that night—the dark, stormy night when he had locked himself in the hot spring room.

Her eyes widened in terror. "You have no right to punish me! You don’t!"

Caleb was so furious his breath came in ragged gasps. He hauled her into the middle of the room and demanded coldly, "Admit you were wrong."

Nina’s voice was thick with tears. "You have no right to punish me! You don’t! Caleb Rhodes, I’ll hate you for this!"

This only made Caleb angrier. His voice was so cold it seemed to drip with ice. "You still dare to talk about breaking up?"

Nina was both terrified and furious, her mind a chaotic mess. Without thinking, she blurted out, "I don’t want to be with you! None of you are good people!"

"You all bully me!"

She backed away as she spoke, retreating two steps before grabbing the doorknob and turning to flee.

But before she could take a single step, Caleb snatched her back.

He threw her onto a small sofa deeper in the room. His chest heaved, and his breath was still unsteady as he spoke. "Fine. You can stay in here and think things through. You can come out when you realize what you did wrong!"

With that, he turned and started to walk out.

Seeing him about to leave, Nina scrambled to her feet to run again.

Caleb hoisted her up and threw her back onto the sofa. "Think it over! I’ll let you out when you know what you did wrong!"

With that, he turned and strode out the door.

Nina rushed forward to catch the door, but Caleb slammed it shut. BANG.

Nina didn’t pull her hand back in time, and her little finger was caught in the doorjamb.

The excruciating pain nearly made her pass out. Her vision went black.

But her incredible self-control meant she only let out a muffled grunt, not even a scream.

Outside, Caleb didn’t realize he had just made a mistake he would never be able to forgive himself for. He only felt that the door hadn’t latched properly, so he pulled it open and slammed it shut again.

The instant he opened the door, Nina’s finger slipped free from the jamb.

Her small, delicate finger was crushed. The agonizing pain made her unable to stand; she collapsed to her knees, and cold sweat quickly soaked her hair.

The overwhelming pain brought on a wave of nausea, and she gagged, but no sound escaped her lips.

In the darkness, she lifted her head and stared at the door.

’As if she could see through it to the person on the other side!’

’So, he was just like them after all!’

’His so-called affection was just a fleeting illusion. They were all in it together, all of them wanted to break her, to bully her until she had nothing left!’

’All that talk about giving her everything she wanted... it was just a lie to take everything away from her!’

’So it was true. His kindness could be taken back at any time.’

’Why? Why did these people have to treat her like this?’

’What had she done wrong?’

She collapsed onto the floor, the searing pain blurring her vision.

In the darkness, she thought she saw Evan Chapman.

The kindest person in the world, Evan Chapman, was crying as he asked her, "Nina, does it hurt?"

"Nina, as long as I’m here, the pain will go away."

She reached out to grasp the phantom image before her, but there was nothing there.

Evan Chapman was dead.

There was no one left in the world to cherish her, only people who would hurt her.

She murmured, "Evan, it hurts so much..."

But no one answered.

She lay on the ground, staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

In the darkness, not a single tear fell from her eyes.

’Evan wasn’t here. She didn’t have the right to cry.’

Outside, Caleb Rhodes stood rooted to the spot by the door for a very long time.

He was chain-smoking furiously, finishing a cigarette in just two or three deep drags until the ember reached the end.

Warner Zimmerman watched from the side for a long time before speaking in a low voice. "Third Lord Master, you should let Miss Wynn out. She’s young and immature, and she speaks impulsively. Don’t hold it against her."

Warner Zimmerman’s words only made things worse. The chill Caleb had just managed to suppress returned with a vengeance. He said coldly, "She’s too stubborn! It’s been an hour, and not a single word of apology! If I keep letting her have her way, she’ll think she can walk all over me!"

With that, he turned and strode toward the living room.

He called over his shoulder, his voice frigid, "Don’t you dare open that door! Post someone here to guard it. Let me know the second you hear her banging on the door or saying anything."

Warner Zimmerman shook his head in resignation and said no more.

By noon, Nina still hadn’t banged on the door or uttered a single word.

The more silent she was, the darker Caleb’s expression grew. The atmosphere in the house became terrifyingly cold, and the servants didn’t dare to breathe too loudly.

Around noon, Rosalind Lowell unexpectedly arrived.

The moment she stepped inside, she sensed something was off. She smiled at Warner Zimmerman and asked, "What’s going on? In the past, someone would at least come out to greet me. How come there isn’t a single smiling face in the house today?"

Warner Zimmerman maintained a basic level of politeness toward Rosalind Lowell, but his face remained impassive. "The Third Lord Master is in a bad mood today."

Rosalind Lowell glanced toward the study in surprise, then her eyes fell on a pair of fluffy slippers by the entryway.

And then on a small, pink handbag sitting on the cabinet.

Her expression shifted.

Her gaze immediately swept across the room.

The room was the same as ever; nothing had changed.

The Yuan blue-and-white porcelain vase by the door was Caleb’s pride and joy, and the paintings on the wall had been acquired from Christie’s, each one worth millions.

The complete set of furniture was the work of a master craftsman, each cut and chisel mark a testament to artistry.

But even though everything looked the same, she had a nagging feeling that something was off.

She reached out to touch the Yuan porcelain by the door, her gaze shifting to a large bouquet of Van Gogh-style sunflowers and pale purple irises on a table.

She frowned. "Where did these sunflowers come from? The color is far too gaudy for this room. Get rid of them."

"And what is that purple flower? An iris? The smell is awful. Take it away."

She was acting like the lady of the house.

Warner Zimmerman said impassively, "The Third Lord Master ordered them. They’re delivered daily. And for what it’s worth, irises don’t stink. I find them quite elegant."

Rosalind Lowell’s frown deepened. "Since when did Caleb develop a taste for such vulgar flowers?"

Warner Zimmerman’s face was a blank mask. "Perhaps it’s because Miss Lowell has been away from the Third Lord Master for too long. Many of his preferences have changed."

The color drained from Rosalind Lowell’s face.

’Warner Zimmerman was right. She had been away from Caleb for too long; she no longer knew what he liked.’

’Their relationship had grown frighteningly distant.’

’She’d only recently learned that Caleb had adopted that unwanted little orphan girl.’

’And while she knew the girl was no threat, she herself had never even lived in this house. What right did that lowly orphan have to be here?’

’This house had been left to Caleb by his maternal grandmother.’

’The old woman had supposedly instructed on her deathbed that the house had excellent feng shui. Caleb had to get married in this house, and he had to raise his children here.’

’In other words, Caleb’s wife was required to live here.’

At that thought, Rosalind Lowell, who had previously been unconcerned, could no longer sit still and had rushed over.

Just then, she noticed something odd about the vase she was touching. She looked closely at the pair of Yuan blue-and-white porcelain vases. "There’s something wrong with this one."

Warner Zimmerman remained impassive. "The original pair was smashed a few days ago. The Third Lord Master has taken them to be restored. This pair is a replica."

It was the one Nina had smashed when she was distressed the other day.

Rosalind Lowell’s expression turned ugly. "Something worth millions... who would dare to smash it?"

The words had barely left her lips when she saw Caleb walking out of the study.