The winter in Sandviken, though not as cold as the north, had just witnessed a fresh snowfall. Standing outside for a while, Emily's hands and face began to stiffen from the cold.
She rubbed her hands in her coat vigorously until they warmed up, easing the stiffness. Then, she headed towards Elite Peak Resort.
She was clearly aware of a silent vehicle following behind but pretended not to notice, stubbornly struggling forward in the cold wind on her own two feet for Murray to see her "self-redemption."
She hoped seeing her in such a pitiful state might quell his anger.
However, she had thought too much.
When she finally reached the Resort gate, panting, and was about ten feet from the huge iron gates, the security guards stopped her.
"I'm a guest at block 68..." Emily paused to consider her words.
It was normal for the guards not to recognize her, as she usually arrived by car. Her disheveled appearance made her look more like a visitor than a resident.
The guards were clearly skeptical.
The guests here, even arriving by helicopter, wouldn't be out of the strange. How could any guest be arriving on foot?
Emily rubbed her hands and face again, straightening her tongue and said, "Call Mr. Gibson and tell him his delivery has arrived."
When they start, Murray jokingly referred to summoning Emily as "ordering takeout." Although she never showed any resentment on the surface, deep down, she noted it.
"Delivery?" The two middle-aged male guards looked her over from head to toe. Still, they were a bit more patient with the pretty young girl. "You say you're delivering food, so where is it?"
Emily was both amused and exasperated. Did they really have to be so diligent?
"Just call Mr. Gibson."
The more serious-looking guard with a square face picked up the communicator and dialed number 68.
When it connected, he said, "Mr. Gibson, there's a young lady here saying she's delivering takeout to you. Is that right?"
Murray's icy voice came over the line. "Villa 68 does not receive visitors, so you will receive a complaint shortly."
Click.
The phone was abruptly hung up.
"How did it go?" the other, longer-faced guard asked, his legs trembling more than Emily's.
Like waking from a dream, the square-faced guard hurriedly checked his tablet.
The log clearly stated Villa 68 does not receive visitors. So, by video calling Murray Gibson just now, he had essentially harassed an esteemed homeowner.
The two guards were at a loss.
Emily felt a bit awkward, "You can't blame me; you should blame Murray Gibson, that freak."
Goodbye!
On her way back, Emily noticed the SUV following her had disappeared. The howling wind and a deathly silence marked the secluded countryside.
Suddenly, she felt utterly alone, as if Murray was all she had in this vast world. Without him, she was left with nothing, no place to call home.
The feeling was awful.
In her sorrow, Emily burst into tears.
But crying in the cold wind was incredibly uncomfortable; soon, her face felt as though it was being stretched taut.
This face still had to earn her meals. Emily took out tissues and gingerly dabbed her tears. Then she called her roommate.
No answer.
She called again, and on the third try, it finally went through.
"Fuck, why are you calling at this time?"
Emily sniffled, "Are you still in New York?"
"Of course, I can't miss this chance. How can I return if I don't secure this spot?"
Thanks to her good looks, Donna Stone had been scouted for commercials since freshman year. Lured by the entertainment industry's lucrative pay, She had abandoned her thesis, graduation certificate, and degree for a chance to make it big in Hollywood.
She had already been in New York for over six months.
"What's wrong?" Donna detected something amiss in Emily's voice.
"Nothing much; I just want to stay at your apartment."
"Go ahead, and the code is still the same as before. Hey, are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, really. You go ahead with your stuff, and we'll talk later." Emily heard the noise in the background, understanding Donna was probably in the middle of training and didn't prolong the call.
The entertainment industry wasn't so easy to break into. A socialite since freshman year, Donna had made her first bucket of gold and bought herself a small downtown apartment.
The girls would often crash at her place when they were out late.
She quickly booked a ride-hailing service and was soon at the apartment building, taking the familiar route up to the 16th floor. The password was the floor plus unit number 1602. "Beep", the door unlocked.
Emily breathed a sigh of relief.
Reaching to turn on the foyer lights, she felt for the switch and flipped it several times, but the apartment remained dark.
Emily guessed the power must have been cut from not paying bills for so long. She found the building manager's number by the elevator and called.
The 24-hour service was prompt and courteous, and they quickly informed her that apartment 1602 had no outstanding electricity bills and that there was sufficient credit in the electricity account.
Perplexed, Emily was asked if she wanted someone to come and check the issue.
Glancing at the time, it was already 11 pm. Waiting who knew how long for repairs, she decided to just make do for the night and deal with it tomorrow.
Luckily, she had no makeup on, so washing with cold water wasn't a problem.
After a quick cold shower, she found a disposable pair of underwear and a clean nightgown in Donna's closet.
Going out to eat in winter, hair, and clothes easily picked up food smells. She sprayed on some perfume and took her intimates and wool top onto the balcony to air out.
The apartment had been unoccupied for months, so she changed all the bedding.
By the time she finished, it was nearly 1 am.
Emily stretched and got into bed, just starting to feel drowsy when - "Squeak, squeak...squeak."
Damn! Mice!
Fear crawled up Emily's spine, crawling over every nerve. She leaped up from the bed, kicking and thrashing in panic. She had only seen a live mouse once in her life, in the school garden.The fat, greasy, shiny-furred thing darted past her feet. That horrifying feeling would stay with her forever.It felt like something had jumped onto the bed."Ah!" Emily shrieked as she tumbled off the bed in her panic. Though there was carpet, her entire body crashing down elbow-first hurt so much she thought she might be paralyzed. "Squeak." A furry thing brushed past her feet. "Help!" Emily cried, struggling from the floor and running to the living room couch.She threw open all the curtains, letting lamp and moonlight stream in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The living room was brightly lit. Emily turned on her phone's flashlight and searched every corner thoroughly. It was very tidy and clean, clearly just housecleaned by Donna Stone before leaving.How could there be rats in this
In the car, Murray patted the pocket of his coat and said to Emily, "I've prepared a gift for you. Guess what it is?""Huh?" Emily was a bit incredulous, "You're giving me a gift after I didn't listen to you yesterday?"Murray cut her off. "Do I need an occasion to give you a gift?""Oh, well, that's very kind of you," Emily replied with a smile, revealing two shallow dimples on her cheeks."Go on, guess what it is." Murray's coat was of a light and thin style. If the gift was large, it would have been obvious, but there was only a slight bulge. He was known for his generosity, so the size of the object didn't necessarily indicate its value."I guess it's jewelry," Emily said, her eyes shining with innocence.Murray seemed to be holding back laughter as he raised his hands, revealing his pocket. "Take it out yourself.""Well, if you insist." Emily reached into the pocket.Something furry, with a pointy mouth and w
Odelia Cromwell, like a, bid farewell to the two with the reverence of a devout follower watching their depart before turning to speak to Emily. "You shouldn't be out if you're sick. Look at your face, as pale as a ghost." She deliberately shrugged her shoulders as she spoke, swinging the purse on her arm before Emily's eyes. "Wow, Odelia, your bag is so beautiful," Emily remarked, as expected. Eager to return and speak with Emily, Devin casually replied, "If you like it, let Elton buy you one too. It's getting late; let's talk more when we return." Before Elton could respond, Odelia Cromwell interjected, "What are you saying, Dad! This is a Hermes limited edition, the only one in the world, right here with me. Where would my brother find another?" Devin was momentarily at a loss for words. "You're such a spendthrift." Emily sneered inwardly. After two years, Odelia remained the same brainless, vain, and superficial fool. Parading around with a fake bag so boldly. She knew it
In the chill of the evening, with faint snowflakes drifting outside, Emily decided to stay the night in her room at the villa. After dinner and chatting in the living room, everyone retired to their rooms. Elton walked her to her door and politely bid goodnight. "Good night, sweet dreams Elton." Sleep eluded her once she closed the door and lay on the bed, which felt strange and familiar. She picked up her phone, which showed a clean screen with a perfectly functioning network. Opening W******p, the most recent chat was the video call from Murray the previous day. She typed a message: 【I won't be coming back tonight. Is that okay?】 Thirty minutes passed without a response. She sent another message: 【If you don't reply, I'll take it as your agreement.】 The world remained silent. Emily laughed wryly at herself, at her presumptuousness. The jerk was probably having the time of his life and had long forgotten her. Decisively, she turned off her phone and tried to sleep. "Achoo
Half an hour later, the car stopped outside an inconspicuous hotel. Peering out, Emily asked, "We're going this far for breakfast?" "Mhm." Murray slapped her bottom. "Get out." She was exasperated with him. Entering the hotel hand in hand, she shook his off. "Aren't you afraid of being seen?" "Members only. No random riffraff. No need to worry." Murray slipped his arm around Emily's neck. Unable to break free, she was dragged into the elevator. After eating in the room, Murray insisted on bathing together. "Mr. Gibson, shouldn't you pace yourself? I'm afraid you'll be drained lifeless." "I never realized you were this kind of person; all you think about is sex. Simply frightening." Murray hugged himself in mock fear as if Emily was some perverted woman. Emily couldn't help but laugh at his reversal of roles. "Fine, if you dare touch me today, you're a dog." "Less nonsense, get in here."
Murray Gibson called Cornelius, quickly relayed a few instructions, and then returned to his downtown apartment.Settling into his study, he spent some time with a book until around seven. Then, he changed into a simple yet comfortable casual outfit and drove out.Sandviken was home to many exclusive clubs catering to the wealthy.The one Murray Gibson was now heading to was the Mellow Mirror Hotel, where his childhood friend Ronald Richardson was a major shareholder.Caught at a red light, he texted Stacey, "I'll be passing South Street soon. Fancy some coconut tarts?"Stacey responded promptly, "Went there with Jean yesterday. The shop's moved ages ago."Murray felt a bit embarrassed. He only remembered Stacey loving those pastries as a kid, but her mom Rita considered the ingredients at those street stalls low quality and wouldn't let her eat them. So, he would secretly buy them on his way home from school and bring them to her the next day. After Stacey went abroad for high schoo
Finally surrounded by peace, the two walked in silence, perfectly in sync, savoring this tranquil moment."Are you cold?" Murray asked, noticing her only in a coat, and began to remove his down jacket to drape over her.But Stacey stopped his hand, smiling. "I've endured all kinds of harsh environments these years. My body's made of iron now, and this is nothing."Knowing her blunt nature, Murray knew if she said she didn't need it, then she really didn't. So he let it go."Not leaving again this time, are you?" "Nope, Dad said if I leave again, he'll break my legs." Murray chuckled softly, "Uncle's still got his sense of humor.""What humor? My free spirit's been shackled! Shouldn't you feel sorry for me?" Stacey huffed, folding her arms and glaring at him in pretend anger.Murray, hands in his pockets, idly kicked at the pebbles on the ground. "You've seen enough of the world. It's time to experience our ordinar
Jean and Stacey, sitting on a swing not far away, looked over in Murray's direction."You know, they say women change a lot as they grow up, but I think it applies to men too. I saw Murray in a finance magazine last year and thought, 'Wow, this guy has become so handsome.' Seeing him in person today, he's even more striking," Jean remarked, genuinely impressed by Murray's transformation.Stacey laughed softly, "Murray has always been good-looking. I remember saying as a kid that I wanted to marry him, but my mom said handsome men aren't reliable and strictly opposed the idea."Jean burst into laughter, "All these years, you've been traveling around, and Murray has become one of Sandviken's top figures without a hint of scandal. Seems your mom's judgment wasn't that accurate.""Who knows? But I feel something different about him this time," Stacey mused.Jean suggested, "He's been in the business world for a while now. Some change is natural."