The Psychotic Girl’s Revenge

Chapter 407: Already Telling Me What to Do and You’re Not Even My Wife Yet?



Paige lay there, quietly gazing at the gray-toned bedroom. It was her first time in Enrico’s room, which was barren and cold, filled with nothing but endless shades of gray.

*”Sss-“*

The sound of a match striking ignited beside her.

Paige turned her head and saw Enrico lounging lazily against the headboard, looking content. He was wearing a loosely tied bathrobe, water droplets still clinging to his skin, sliding down his neck to his firm chest. A cigarette dangled from his lips, and with one hand, he struck a match to light it.

The brief flicker of red reflected in his eyes, giving them a dark, satisfied glow.

Paige slipped out from under the covers, propping herself up to look at him.Material © of NôvelDrama.Org.

Enrico removed the cigarette, exhaling a faint cloud of smoke. He reached over, ruffling her hair. “You’ve still got the nerve to stare at me like that. Looks like I left you with some energy.”

“…”

He never could say anything that didn’t have a double meaning.

Paige looked at him and said, “Smoking is bad for your health. You should have some jelly instead.”

Enrico smirked devilishly. “I’m your man, not a 9-year-old boy.”

Jelly? That was a long time ago.

“But I did like the 9-year-old version of you,” Paige mused, resting her face in her hand.

Enrico’s eyes darkened, and he suddenly lowered his body, bringing his face right in front of hers. At such close distance, Paige could see every detail of his damp face-the way his single eyelid curved, turning into a slight double at the corners, irresistibly seductive.

His gaze fixed on her, his voice a low, husky growl tinged with the scent of tobacco. “Then, missy, want to keep going?”

“…”

“After all, your 9-year-old boy still has strength left.”

His innocent-sounding words held anything but innocence.

“…”

This is madness.

Paige couldn’t handle this version of Enrico. She flipped over and buried her face in the bed, her cheeks burning with heat. “Stop, stop, let’s change the subject.”

“Look at you,” Enrico chuckled, messing up her hair again with a wicked grin.

Paige had to admit-when it came to this kind of thing, she was no match for him.

Lying there, watching him smoke, she tugged at his arm after a moment, trying to persuade him again. “Really, you should stop smoking. It’s bad for your health.”

“You’re already bossing me around, and you’re not even my wife yet?”

Though he said this, Enrico still put out the cigarette. He turned over and lay beside her, eyes fixed intently on her, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of her.

“If you don’t want me to tell you what to do, you don’t have to marry me,” Paige teased lightly.

“Are you provoking me?” Enrico scooped her up in his arms and, instead of the usual grand romantic line, bit her gently on the chin. Through gritted teeth, he muttered, “Fine. You can boss me around as much as you want.”

“…”

Even though she hadn’t eaten any sweets, Paige felt a sweetness unlike anything she’d ever known.

She nestled into his embrace, resting her head on his arm. Gradually, she closed her eyes, savoring the peaceful moment.

Enrico held her tightly. Though the bitter taste of nicotine lingered on his tongue, a sharp pain suddenly shot through his head. His brows furrowed. “When are we getting married?”

He didn’t seem ready to drop the topic.

Paige, still resting in his arms and unable to see his expression, thought for a moment. “We could do it now, but that might be a bit rushed.”

“…”

“Starting tonight, the news in A Country is going to be anything but calm. My identity is going to become a hot topic. That’s not too much of an issue, but once the law abolishing slums is formally implemented, I’ll need to visit Wind Island. We’ll have to talk about peaceful coexistence there.”

Paige said, as she lay on his arm, “So the best time would be after I return from Wind Island. Once everything’s settled, I can focus entirely on us.”

She still had important matters to handle.

“…”

The pain in Enrico’s head gradually faded, disappearing as quickly as it had come. His frown relaxed. Looking down at her in his arms, he asked, “You’re going to Wind Island?”

Was that what she’d just said?

Hearing this, Paige lifted her face and gave him a curious look. His attention was on Wind Island and not on their wedding? That didn’t seem like him at all.

Was he becoming more understanding with time?

Paige chuckled at the thought and softly replied, “Yes, I’ll have to go there. Not only to discuss peaceful coexistence, but also to bring everyone back.”

As she spoke, her mind drifted to Wind Island. She wondered how many of the people there were still alive, waiting for her to bring them back.

“Fine, I’ll go with you,” Enrico said.

“Alright.”

Paige had grown used to the fact that Enrico wanted to be with her at all times. She accepted it quite naturally.

They’d go together, return together, and then get married. Nothing wrong with that.

The next day, news of the gunfight at the finance summit and the abolition of the slum laws made global headlines. It was a whirlwind of media frenzy.

The presidential palace issued a statement, and President Rafael personally stepped forward to admit that years ago, he had shown leniency to the slum girl prisoner Paige, secretly releasing her. His reasoning? Paige was an extraordinary talent.

Suddenly, the internet was flooded with posts clearing Paige’s name.

Carrie, with her influence, publicly clarified the events of the past, affirming that Paige never committed murder and was a fighter against class injustice.

Meanwhile, news from River Town’s previous funeral was exposed, with many recognizing that Paige had been among those who saved River Town. Survivors of River Town even identified her as the one who nearly sacrificed herself to stop the massacre.

In no time, people began rallying online in support of Paige.

Her story of survival became legendary overnight-once a death-row inmate, now a hero.

Public opinion split into three camps: those who believed all the news, those who remained skeptical but curious, and those who outright doubted everything.

But Paige remained unaware of all this. Having been confined to Enrico’s room the whole night, she hadn’t checked her phone upon leaving. Instead, she headed straight to a specific location.

While the online world buzzed, reality was quiet.

The weather was chilly but the sky was clear.

Under the white clouds, a broken city wall stood bathed in sunlight, with weeds growing at its base.

Paige walked along the deserted road, clutching a bottle of champagne.

Every step felt heavy.

She climbed the broken, worn steps of the wall. After just a few steps, she heard some movement. Lifting her gaze, she saw several figures sitting atop the wall.

It was Nick, Carrie, and the others.

She didn’t know how long they had been sitting there, but each of them had dewdrops clinging to their backs.

Seeing their silhouettes, Paige suddenly felt as if she had been transported back in time. Back then, after walking out of the presidential palace, they had sat together on this very wall.

Back then, all ten of them were still alive and together.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.