A Journey from Bitterness to Truth

Matilda had vanished, just like Yvan had predicted. For a whole week, she didn’t show up at his doorstep, and her studio remained silent and closed.

Yvan had lingered outside the studio multiple times, only to be greeted by locked doors and unanswered calls when he tried reaching out to Matilda.

It wasn’t until a week later, at Myst Lounge, that Yvan’s blood boiled with rage. There was Matilda, laughing and perched flirtatiously on another man’s lap. Without a second thought. Yvan stormed over and yanked her out of the scene!

Matilda, tipsy from the drinks, stumbled into Yvan’s arms, her nose hitting his chest painfully, snapping her back to sobriety. She looked up at the man before her – handsome and with an almost devilish charisma. Taking a closer look, she recognized him. “Ah, if it isn’t Yvan, the scumbag!” Her smile was seductive. “What a coincidence.”

Yvan gritted his teeth. “Where the hell have you been this past week?” RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

Matilda shrugged nonchalantly. “You gave me five million, remember? Why bother with the studio when I can just enjoy life?”

Seeing her draped over another man had set Yvan off. He spat out coldly. “And who is this guy?”

“I don’t even know him!” Matilda’s words were light, her gaze still sharp. “Why, Mr. Boyd, don’t tell me you’re jealous now.”

Yvan clenched his fists. “Looks like you haven’t learned your lesson.”

With that, he grabbed her wrist, and Matilda, slightly sobered, cast a seductive glance at the handsome stranger she was flirting with just moments ago. “Let me deal with a private matter

first.”

The man gracefully allowed her to leave.

Yvan dragged Matilda through the crowd, past the deafening beats of the DJ’s deck, into the lounge’s service corridor, where he finally let go of her with a fierce shove.

Matilda nearly lost her balance, steadying herself against the wall. She raised her head, anger flickering in her eyes.

Yvan sneered. “Can’t go a day without a man, can you?”

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Matilda retorted calmly, “Is that any of your business?”

“If your son knew how his mother was cavorting in bars, he’d be thrilled to have such a wanton mother.”

“You!” Matilda’s face turned pale. “Don’t you dare smear my name to Logan!”

“With the way you’re acting, I hardly need to.” Yvan crossed his arms. “Matilda, I

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underestimated your talent for seducing men.”

Matilda, face ashen, remained silent.

“Yvan, why can’t I escape from you even now? Why?” She yelled inside.

Yvan took pleasure in seeing Matilda’s pain, even allowing himself a chuckle. “Matilda, you really are quite shameless.”

“Yes, I’m shameless.” Matilda’s eyes brimmed with tears as she forced a smile. “The most shameless thing I ever did was falling for you five years ago!”

Yvan felt a pang in his chest but didn’t show it, barely containing his anger. “Regret it?”

“Yes!” Matilda’s smile was bright, yet her eyes were red. “My affairs are none of your concern, right? Or do you want to lower yourself for me too?”

Yvan laughed bitterly. “As if you’re worth my concern. I just came to remind you to be a decent mother in front of our child, so my son isn’t ridiculed because of you.”

Matilda’s shoulders shook as she fought back the tears, repeatedly muttering ‘fine‘, then added shakily, “Thank you for your advice, Mr. Boyd. Are we done here? If so, let me go.”

Before Yvan could reply, she had already opened the service door. The muffled music from outside surged in, along with the colorful lights of the dance floor.

Amid the shifting shadows, he thought he saw a tear slide down Matilda’s cheek, but he restrained himself from following her.

As he watched her disappear into the crowd, Yvan stood in the dark corridor, occasionally lit by passing lights that revealed his chiseled features and icy gaze.

Later, when he returned to his own lounge, a bold woman approached him.

Yvan, surprisingly, didn’t push her away but wrapped an arm around her waist, ready to head home. Chase watched him, shaking his head, “Getting your appetite back, huh?”

Yvan joked with a mask of indifference, “What’s it to you? Feeling lonely and need some comfort from me?”

Chase shuddered at the thought, downing a drink to quell the sensation. “Yvan, don’t tell me you swing that way!”

Yvan’s cold smile dismissed the insinuation as utterly foolish, prompting no reply.

Chase turned to Mason, seeking solace. “Mason, I think I’d rather have you comfort me.

Mason, also taken aback by Chase’s dramatics, retorted, “With that act, I wouldn’t want you even if I were gay.”

Chase was furious, thinking, “Excuse me? You think I’d be interested in you even if I were gay?” The girls around them giggled at the banter. “Mr. Farrell, Mr. Boyd, you guys are hilarious.”

“Come here, I’ll take care of you!”

Yvan stood, the woman still in his arm, and the men exchanged glances. It seemed Yvan was serious this time. Five years and Yvan had never brought a woman home.

So, five minutes after Yvan left, Chase and Mason stealthily followed him in their car.

Chase questioned their actions, “Isn’t it a bit wrong to tail him like this?”

Mason replied, “Yes, but you’re driving, so it’s on you, not me.”