"It’s okay, I’ve got you." Mason Nightshade gently stroked her back.

"Mm." Aurelia Shaw nestled into his embrace, inhaling the subtle lemon scent on him, thinking: If he deceives me, we’ll go down together.

...

Half an hour later, the car drove into the Shaw residence.

Balthazar Shaw and two others were sitting in the living room. Jovana Shaw was battered, lying in Clara Philips’ arms as Clara consoled her. Seeing Aurelia enter, she lashed out with a venomous voice, "You vicious woman, how could you treat your sister like this! She’s your sister! Even a tiger won’t eat its cub. No matter how much you hate Jovana, you shouldn’t do this to her!"

Aurelia glanced at Jovana and noticed the numerous wounds on her body. She had only injected her with something, nothing else. Where did these injuries come from? Deliberately inflicted to frame her?

Ha, it doesn’t matter anyway.

More or fewer accusations, what’s the difference?

"Come here!" Balthazar Shaw’s face was clouded, his expression grim, as he fixed his gaze on Aurelia, leaving no doubt that he might slap her in the next moment.

Aurelia stepped forward two paces, a slight smile on her lips. "Accusing me? No need, I’m here to take my mom."

After speaking, Aurelia turned around to leave. Infuriated, Balthazar Shaw raised a hand to slap her face. With Aurelia’s agility, she could have dodged it. But she hadn’t anticipated Balthazar to act so rashly, deciding her guilt based solely on Clara and Jovana’s words, without even asking her.

In that moment of confusion, she missed the best chance to evade, watching helplessly as the forceful slap came towards her cheek—

A long, strong hand caught it in midair. Mason Nightshade’s fingers tightened, his face darkened as though covered with frost, exuding a cold and dangerous aura, eyes narrowed. "Who allowed you to lay a hand on her?"

Balthazar Shaw shivered violently.

Truth be told, he was still afraid of Mason Nightshade. Although this young man before him was much younger and less experienced, his ruthless means were notorious in the business world, and more importantly, he knew better than anyone that Mason hated him.

Mason Nightshade released Balthazar Shaw’s hand, casting him a sidelong glance filled with a veiled warning.

Witnessing Balthazar’s retreat, Clara Philips began to wail, "Jovana, my dear Jovana, you’re supposed to get engaged tomorrow! What are we going to do now? I might as well be dead!"

"I can’t go on, Mom, I can’t!" Jovana cried out, seemingly agitated, grabbing a fruit knife from the table and pressing it against her neck.

Balthazar took a large stride forward, snatched the knife from her hand, and tossed it aside.

The sharp blade grazed Aurelia’s wrist. Her arm moved slightly, but she stood firm. If it wasn’t for Mason Nightshade’s keen observation, focused entirely on her, he wouldn’t have noticed she was injured.

Damn Balthazar Shaw.

Had he foreseen hurting her, he would have dealt with him long ago.

Aurelia felt a chill all over, sensing the room’s temperature had been drained. It must be snowing outside, right? Was there no heat in the room? Why was it so cold? Her heart was freezing, so the blood flowing into her veins was cold, making her feel cold.

Just then, a warm, large palm enveloped her hand, fingers intertwined. Aurelia glanced down to see the veins bulging on the man’s hand, exerting great force, yet she felt no pain. Only, her eyes felt strained, and the familiar headache throbbed subtly, making her brain ache.