Feeling Sorry for Your Son
As soon as Zuri left, Dalia was furious, her chest heaving up and down.
"What does she mean by this? Is she saying I mistreat her?"
"Mom, don't blame Zuri. She's just angry. She'll be fine once she cools down."
Dalia looked appreciatively at her gentle and kind daughter, feeling comforted, and noticing her daughter's hidden loneliness, she felt heartache, "Don't worry, Mom will give you money. Buy whatever you like."
On the other side, after leaving the villa, Zuri directly asked the driver to take her to the city center.
Standing among the towering skyscrapers, looking up at the blue sky, she thought about how long it had been since she last saw the sun outside. One year, two years, maybe even longer. The Lin family had bound her and sent her to that abusive old pervert in exchange for enough benefits to expand the Lin Group.
They used the money they got from her to buy properties and hold grand weddings for Saira, living a life of luxury.
Meanwhile, she lived in hell, in darkness.
Standing in the sunlight, squinting her eyes, feeling the warm, burning sensation of the sun on her skin, it felt so good.
"Bang..."
A little boy ran straight into her, spilling his ice cream all over her clothes. The child fell to the ground, crying loudly.
The child's mother hurried over, picked him up, and upon seeing the scratch on his arm, glared angrily.
"What's wrong with you? Can't you watch where you're going? Look what you did to my son."
Zuri looked down at her ice-cream-stained shirt, then at the mother who was defending her son who had caused the trouble. She smiled, a bit wickedly.
She bent down, picked up the half-eaten ice cream from the ground, and walked up to the boy's mother.
"What are you doing?" The mother glared at her, trying to intimidate her with her gaze.
Zuri didn't respond and directly smeared the remaining ice cream on her white dress.
"Ahhh!" the mother screamed in horror.
The piercing sound attracted the attention of passersby, who looked over and, seeing the ice cream on both of them and the crying child, could guess what had happened.
"What's wrong with you? You not only knocked over my child, hurting him, but also dirtied my dress. You owe me compensation for this dress. It's very expensive." The mother screamed hysterically.
Zuri pointed to a surveillance camera a few meters away, "There's evidence. Are you sure you want to argue?"
The mother's eyes flickered, not daring to speak.
The surrounding people understood what was happening—it was a classic case of the guilty party complaining first.
"I really feel sorry for your child."
Leaving these words behind, Zuri turned and walked away.
People around started pointing at the boy's mother, who, embarrassed and angry, slapped her child and hurried away with him crying loudly in her arms.
Not far away, a group of impeccably dressed elites exited the mall. Leading the group was a tall, handsome man with chiseled features, his face a mask of indifference and solemnity. His deep eyes scanned the crowd, catching a fleeting glimpse of a familiar figure. Just as he tried to take a closer look, the figure disappeared.
"Mr. Ye," his assistant Drew reminded him.
Leo withdrew his gaze and got into the car.
The Rolls-Royce drove away slowly.