Chapter7 The Mysterious Man
His words caught me off guard, and I thought, 'Andrew took my stuff?'
I spun around, glaring at the guy behind me with pure annoyance. "Stealing from me? Seriously? You know I'm broke. Hand it over, now."
Andrew just stood there for a couple of seconds, totally ignoring me. "Her first night will be mine eventually. Who can deal with the Allen Family's crazy rules? And do you really think she wants to be with a weirdo like you?"
Eric Allen, my husband, was from the prestigious Allen Family.
Andrew's words were a total slap in the face to Eric, and even I couldn't take it, let alone him.
Was he really that jealous?
I couldn't help but glance at Eric, my eyes lingering on a certain area for a bit too long.
Eric shot me a cold look, clearly not pleased.
Feeling guilty, I quickly looked away, not daring to look again.
Andrew saw the whole thing and sneered, "Not even letting her look, what a tightwad. Even if something's really good, if you don't let others see it, you'll never keep people around. Unlike me, I'm all about sharing. If you don't want her to look, why not give her to me? Let me have her first night and then share her flesh and blood."
Listening to Andrew, I could already picture my body being torn apart after death.
Shaking, I looked at Eric Allen with pleading eyes.
I thought, 'We're husband and wife, and I begged for so long. It's not too much to save my life, right?'
Eric squinted, his face darkening instantly. "You don't know your place."
I saw him casually clench his fingers, and Andrew let out a painful scream. The green snake on his head vanished, and his body slowly crumbled.
I watched his fragments turn to ashes, but deep down, I felt uneasy. Did he really just disappear like that?
While I was lost in thought, Eric had already walked up to me. Smelling his fresh, pleasant scent, my heart raced, and I couldn't help but look at him.
This face was the breathtaking visage I once saw in my dreams.
Once upon a time, I had made some flirtatious moves towards this face, but now that he was standing in front of me, I was too scared to say a word.
"Afraid of me?" Eric's deep voice came from above, startling me.
I quickly took three steps back, shaking my head frantically. "No, I'm not."
But thinking of what he had done, I quickly nodded.
The first time we met, I saw him kick Andrew's head off; the scene of blood spraying out was still one of my nightmares.
If I upset him and became the next target, I'd be doomed.
Eric obviously didn't believe me. He approached, grabbed my chin, and forced me to look at him.
"If you're not afraid, then look at me."
When it came to protecting my life, I never hesitated, so I fixed my gaze on him.
Eric's eyes were particularly deep, as if they contained the entire starry sky. I quietly looked at them and accidentally got lost in them.
They were so beautiful. If I could see them every day, my mood would improve.
I muttered to myself, not noticing the blush on his earlobes. "Wipe your drool. Stop having those inappropriate thoughts."
His cold voice came from his sexy, full lips, instantly dispelling my thoughts.
What's the use of being so good-looking?
That mouth only said unpleasant things and couldn't do anything else. It's terrifying.
I didn't even really kiss him, just daydreamed a bit, and that was not allowed? What a tightwad.
Eric seemed to catch on to my thoughts, his grip on my chin tightening. "Since you have such ideas, why don't I take your first night and then eat you?"
He smiled wickedly, his small canine teeth morphing into sharp fangs in the dim light.
I was sure that if I said anything else to tick him off, those teeth would pierce my throat.
"No, don't bite me. I won't dare anymore."
Eric let go of my chin, his eyes drifting down to my slightly disheveled chest for a few seconds before he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. "Fix your clothes."
Following his gaze, I saw the delicate skin exposed under my open collar.
I bit my lip in embarrassment, my heart pounding.
This man was my husband, the one my parents had talked about for over a decade, and he was also my savior.
If it weren't for him, I would have died when I was three.
The following fifteen years felt like a beautiful dream he granted me.
I thought, 'If it really is a dream, I hope it lasts a bit longer.'
My nose suddenly felt tingly, and I quickly lowered my head, not wanting him to see my vulnerability.
Eric patted my head, and a cold amulet suddenly appeared around my neck. "Let's go home."
He walked leisurely in front, his broad back giving me a sense of security.
As we neared home, he suddenly disappeared, and I saw my mom looking around at the door.
"Mom!"
"Where did you go? I told you to kneel there. You were freaking me out in the middle of the night."
Mia patted her chest in relief, her face full of worry.
I threw myself into Mia's arms, feeling all sorts of emotions.
Everything I had just experienced was beyond my imagination: my husband, Eric, appearing out of nowhere, and Andrew, who disappeared after being crushed.
Only my mom's warm embrace reminded me that it was all real.
I carefully wiped my tears and couldn't help but tell her everything, including the chicken soup and the rest.
When I mentioned the chicken soup she brought, Mia looked at me in horror. "I didn't go there. I was wiping your dad, and we don't have any chickens."
I stared at her in shock, my mind filled with the image of her bringing the chicken soup and her slightly unsteady steps.
Something was definitely off, but that face was unmistakable.
"I just finished wiping your dad and came out to find you gone. The basin and towel are still at the door." My mom pointed to the basin at the door.
I clearly saw the steam rising from it.
"But I remember you often made chicken soup for me when I was little. Every time I was sick or injured, you made it." The memory of the chicken soup was so sweet, it was unforgettable.
Mia shook her head frantically. "Impossible. Satan said you couldn't eat chicken. How could I make chicken soup for you?"
My mom wouldn't lie about this. Her serious expression made me shiver.
Did I remember wrong? But why was the memory of the chicken soup so vivid in my mind?
My mom patted my back, soothing me. "Maybe it was in your dreams. We've never had chickens. Ask your dad when he wakes up. Besides, your dad promised when he married me that I wouldn't have to do dirty or tiring work. I haven't even washed clothes all these years, let alone raised chickens." She frowned in disgust.
If Mia never raised chickens, then what about the chicken soup in my memory?
I clearly remembered that taste because I had definitely eaten it before.