A name that hit her hard as a thunderbolt, Charlotte Thompson’s forward steps faltered, leaving her standing in her tracks.
The mere two syllables of the name awakened in her the boundless nightmare.
The dark, abandoned warehouse, the repetitive blows landing on her flesh.
"You were quite talkative before, what happened now?"
The tone in Emily Allen’s voice was mocking, calling forth yet another slap landing firmly onto Charlotte’s cheek.
Accompanying this were her cries, as well as the disdainful laughter of her malicious stepmother, who took pleasure in her misery.
Ryan Richard was there too, gripping her hair as she recoiled, leaving her no choice but to endure their cruel torment in silence.
And he now had the nerve to ask if she remembered Emily Allen?
At that time, it was the most horrific point in her life.
"Emily Allen? I’m not sure who she is."
Charlotte turned her head away, the corners of her mouth quirking up in a vague arc. But deep within those clear eyes, an icy chill prevailed.
"Sir, I have things to do, I don’t have time to engage in fruitless discussions with you."
With her gaze, she signaled to Coco that she did not want to stay any longer.
Coco caught her drift perfectly, stepping forward to grab Charlotte’s wrist: "Sir, Miss Thompson has work to do this morning, we’re in a hurry, please make way!"
Despite seeing Charlotte’s indifferent attitude towards Emily, whether she were dead or alive, Ryan Richard remained undeterred, flipping through something on his phone’s screen. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net
"Sophie Allen, no, Miss Charlotte. Please take a look at this photo, it might help you remember who she is."
Without waiting for her consent, Ryan Richard approached her and presented her with the photo displayed on his screen.
How could Charlotte forget that joyful laughter?
In the photo, Emily Allen was shining brightly with a vibrant bouquet of flowers in her hands, the stage lights casting her features in an enchantingly beautiful light.
In the surrounding darkness, you could vaguely discern that the name on the signboard was Emily Allen’s.
"Is this a promotional photo of Miss Emily Allen? She’s very beautiful, but I’m afraid I still don’t have any recollection of her."
"It’s okay if you don’t remember, I can tell you what kind of person she was."
Ryan Richard spread his arms, blocking Charlotte’s way.
"She was a third-tier actress, and used to be my girlfriend, but she wasn’t a good girl."
Charlotte noticed Ryan Richard’s eyes dilating when he said "not a good girl," they were as frigid as an Arctic glacier.
How amusing, when the two were sneaking around together back then, they appeared to be so smitten.
"Miss Thompson, I’m not afraid to make a fool of myself."
The arrogance in Ryan Richard’s voice from before had vanished, his smile held a trace of bitterness.
"Just to gain more resources, during the time I was with her, the number of ’green hats’ I had worn for her would stack up to meters high."
As he spoke, he gestured around one and a half meters with his hand, took a deep breath, and reopened his mouth, this time with a more pronounced dissatisfaction, suppressing the simmering rage.
"In order to get a role or for a film shoot, drinking with others was already her usual habit. No matter how much I expressed my discontent, she never listened."
Despite her slight frown, Charlotte didn’t deny her relationship with Emily, nor did she wish to engage in the conversation anymore.
"I’ve lost count of how many times someone called me to pick her up from a hotel while she was miserably drunk. All the way, she constantly prattled on about her dreams for the future once she became famous."
She vented her dissatisfaction towards me, claiming that I couldn’t offer her anything and that the people she drank with promised her a better future."
When she woke the next day, she acted like nothing had happened, but she never changed, or thought about changing."
At this point, the light in Ryan Richard’s eyes visibly dimmed.
"But what I couldn’t stand the most was that time..."