The nurse smiled warmly at her.
🎂🥳ミ💖 J͎o͎i͎n͎ ͎B͎e͎a͎r͎N͎o͎v͎e͎l͎s͎.͎C͎o͎m͎ ͎F͎o͎r͎ ͎L͎a͎t͎e͎s͎t͎ ͎U͎p͎a͎t͎e͎s͎ 💖彡
“You’re most welcome. I’m sorry for what I said earlier… You’re a very strong woman for doing this alone.”
“Why?” Rachel asked her softly.
“It’s hard to be a young, single mother. Without the child’s father, life is going to be so hard. Most women your age would choose to have an abortion, but you’ve decided to keep it and raise it on your own. I really admire you.” the nurse said with a smile. She was totally oblivious to how dark Victor’s expression had become.
And just how cold his gaze was.
Rachel looked down, hooding her eyes with her long lashes. She reached up to touch the tip of her
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nose, but before she could, someone grabbed her tightly around the wrist and dragged her away.
“Hey! the nurse said in surprise when she saw Victor drag Rachel away. She wanted to stop him, but wasn’t quick enough.
Victor completely ignored her. He marched Rachel over to a quiet corner, regardless of the nurse’s protest.
Rachel tried to fight against him, but she quickly gave up. Victor was a strong man, and he was even more so when he was angry. He tugged her to stand in front of him, staring down at her with an expressionless face. But even devoid of a visible emotion, his eyes and presence were still oppressive.
Rachel diverted her gaze and looked down at her wrist. The pale, delicate skin was an angry, glaring red.
Victor really didn’t know how to treat a lady.
“So… The baby’s father is dead?” He squeezed every word out from between clenched teeth. His head throbbed with the effort of trying to keep his temper under control while his eyes bored into Rachel.
Rachel turned her head away to look off to the side; that was when she saw his hand. Victor had very beautiful hands; long-fingered, fair and boney. When she’d still been part of the Red Hackers, everyone had said that Quintin’s hands were lovely. She’s spent hours staring at them, trying to figure out what they meant by that. To her, they just looked like ordinary men’s hands. Nothing special.
Only when she had met Victor had she finally understood what they meant by men having beautiful hands. Because if there was ever a man who had beautiful hands, it was Victor. She believed that they’d be beautiful even when they were caked in mud. There was just something about his long, elegant fingers that held a note of beauty.
But now she could see his delicate bones sharply through his skin, and his fingertips were curved ever so slightly inwards. Evidently, he was trying to hang onto his temper.
As beautiful as those hands were, Rachel had a feeling that he wouldn’t hesitate to punch her in the face at any given second.
This thought was enough to break her silence.
“I think you misheard me,” she said calmly.
“Misheard?” Victor said in an eerily calm voice.
“Rachel, have I been too nice to you recently? Don’t forget who you are.”
“,..” Rachel raised her head and looked directly into his ironic eyes.
She smiled and said, “Are you going to threaten me again? Say that you would not go easy on me if it’s not for the child?”
Victor frowned in displeasure.
Rachel narrowed her eyes in an overly confident manner.
“Just cut the crap. Even with this child, I know you won’t hold back if you lose your temper. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t bear your child. Even if you were the last man alive on this earth.”
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