Chapter 11
The room was dimly lit.
The woman perched on Spencer’s lap barely dared to breathe.
She had heard about Spencer’s past.
It was said that he and Charlotte, the eldest daughter of the Cohen family, were once in love, but somehow he ended up liking Charlotte’s younger sister, Juliet.
And then, Charlotte was cast aside.
The woman thought, based on the way the story had unfolded, that Juliet must be some kind of
femme fatale, the type of woman who could ensnare a man’s soul.
Otherwise, how could such a powerful man like Spencer ditch Charlotte and end up in his current
self–destructive state?
Spencer had no idea what the woman was thinking.
He reached up and lifted her chin, examining her like a piece of fine art.
Just then, the woman suddenly gathered her courage and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Spencer froze, but he didn’t push her away.
He was never a man of virtue.
After Juliet left, he’d only wanted to recreate her image from the faces of other women who
resembled her.
But this time, the woman made the mistake of touching a forbidden line.
She leaned into Spencer’s ear and coquettishly whispered, “Brother–in–law…”
At the sound of those words, Spencer’s previously drunken gaze suddenly cleared.
His face turned cold as he swiftly pushed the woman off him.
The woman cried out as she fell to the ground.
“What did you just call me?” Spencer glared down at her, his eyes filled with a frosty anger.
He was drunk, but not crazy.
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He knew these women weren’t Juliet, and they never could be.
“I… I…” The woman was too stunned to speak, scrambling to escape the room.
Spencer immediately lost interest.
He loosened his tie, intending to step outside for some fresh air.
As he passed by another room, his gaze flicked to the woman sitting inside.
She was dressed in Ridgewood University’s uniform, her figure and hairstyle strikingly similar to Juliet’s. At that moment, she was nestled close to a man, listening to him sing softly.
Spencer’s pupils contracted, a flicker of shock and disbelief flashing in his eyes.
He rushed to the door, swung it open, and strode toward the couple. With one forceful shove, he pushed the man aside.
Then, he tightly embraced the woman in his arms.
“Juliet!” His voice trembled, his arms locking around her like iron. “I’ve torn the world apart looking for you, and here you are, fooling around with another man? Do you think I won’t kill you?”
The woman was terrified.
“I’m not Juliet! Let go of me!” she cried out, struggling in his grasp..
Spencer ignored her pleas.
Seeing his girlfriend being manhandled, the man quickly scrambled to his feet and grabbed a bottle of liquor from the table, swinging it at Spencer’s head.
The bottle shattered with a loud crack.
The room erupted in screams.
By the time the boss arrived, Spencer had sobered up.
A bandage was wrapped around his head, and he sat on the couch like a wounded lone wolf, clutching the half–knit scarf Juliet had made for him.
After Juliet left the country, her roommate gave him the scarf.
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Since then, he had kept it with him at all times.
Some said he was losing his mind, while others believed he was pretending to be deep and
sentimental.
Spencer didn’t deny either claim.
In truth, he couldn’t even understand why he had become this way.
His acquaintance with Juliet had started as a revenge plot.
For two years, he had toyed with her for Charlotte’s sake, finally pushing Juliet to the brink of
despair.
The day before she left, he had even told the kidnappers to deal with her however they saw fit.
What had she felt in that moment?
Spencer suddenly threw his head back, pressing his hand hard against his forehead, trying to block out the overwhelming guilt that crashed over him like a tidal wave.
He didn’t know how long it had been before an almost absurd thought popped into his mind.
He grabbed his phone and dialed a number, his voice firm. “Three days. Get into the global war zone as a communications expert. I’ll find her, even if I have to burn the world down!”
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