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Chapter 179 Lizetta bit her lip, “I just wanted to save Yoll, | thought...
Thought what? That I'd go soft on you? You think you can just show up, put on a little act, and I'd be at your beck and call?” Lizetta’s unfinished words were effortlessly decoded by Remington.
And that just made him even more despicable. He saw right through her, just toying with her, and tears Welled up even more in Lizetta’s tightly shut eyes.
Remington was irritated by what he saw, his words growing sharper, “I only go soft for my sister and my wife. What are you now? Presenting yourself like splaything, barely started and already blubbering? How low can you stoop!” This was the girl he'd raised. Four years ago she'd been foolish enough to drug him, and now she hadn't learned her lesson.
The thought that she'd rather degrade herself than return as Mrs. Dashiell made Remington wish he could crush her rebellious spirit.
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Lizetta couldn't handle the insults any longer. She opened her eyes, which were red with rage, “Yes, it was my fault! I'm low; I've learned my lesson. Oh, high and mighty Mr. Dashiell, can you letgo now? And stop acting like sdebauchee who enjoys being seduced by my tricks!” A vein throbbed on Remington's forehead, and the hand on her waist suddenly clenched into a fist.
He got up off her and stood straight, saying, “Don’t flatter yourself. I'm not that into women who throw themselves at me.” Lizetta frantically grabbed her clothes to get dressed, while her phone kept ringing on the table. She feared there might be new developments from the police station, so she hurriedly picked up the phone, and her face changed when she saw “Jenny Abott” on the caller ID.
She had used Jenny's identity for her prenatal checkup, and left Jenny's name. She had taken sleeping pills today, worried and restless; she had asked Jenny to consult the doctor. Lizetta hadn't expected Jenny to call back now.
Lizetta quickly hung up.
“Why aren't you picking up?” Just as she let out a sigh of relief, Remington's probing voice cfrom above her head.
Lizetta’s heart skipped a beat, and the clothes she was holding dropped to the floor.
Remington wasn't one to pry, but his question clearly showed suspicion. Lizetta pushed down her guilt and glared at Remington, her eyes red, “Do | look like I'm in any state to answer the phone right now?” Her voice trembled slightly, but Remington's scrutinizing gaze didn’t waver as he asked again.
“Jenny, is she the one you went with for the prenatal checkup? Why is she contacting you?” Lizetta picked up her clothes again and casually replied, “Don’t know.” She didn’t bother making up a bunch of excuses, which seemed to dispel Remington's doubts as he turned and walked towards the stairs...
Only when his figure vanished into the living room did Lizetta collapse onto the couch. Exhausted, thinking. of Yolanda still at the police station and her fruitless visit, she cursed Remington fiercely in her head, 1/2 10:47 Dressed and head down, she left the villa, scrolling through her phone contacts, considering asking Lucian for help.
A car stopped in front of her, and the driver, Christ, lowered the window, “Mrs. Dashiell, Mr. Dashiell askedto take you to the police station.” To the police station? That meant he was sending her to get Yolanda.
Lizetta stood there stunned, and only at Christ's urging did she hurry forward and open the car door.
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As she bent to get in, she paused, turning to look toward the direction of the second—floor bedroom.
At the window, there seemed to be a tall figure turning away; and for some reason, Lizetta's nose tingled with an inexplicable sourness. In the end, he had gone soft on her. On the car ride, Lizetta replied to Jenny, who promptly responded.
[Dr. Isaac says considering the t you've been asleep, the dosage of the occasional sleeping pill you took shouldn't be large, and it's unlikely to have a significant impact on the fetus. He advises you to relax and proceed with regular prenatal checkups, and if you feel unwell, seek medical attention immediately]
Lizetta thanked her and finally breathed a sigh of relief, Holding her phone, she thought fof a moment and finally sent a message to Remington. [Thanks.]