Can’t Win Me Back

"I will take it if my condition flares up," Remy said, his voice devoid of emotion as he stared blankly at the bottle in his hand.

With a feigned smile, Sheryl replied, "Sir instructed me to ensure you took the pill."

A chill ran down Remy's spine. Knitting his brows together, he questioned, "But why?"

"This is Sir's order. Why are you questioning it?" Sheryl's smirk turned cold and mocking." What, are you afraid Sir has ill intentions toward you? Have you lost your trust in him?"

Remy held his breath. "No, that's not it."

"Remy, swore before Sir to serve him loyally for the rest of your life. You pledged to give him your very being. You haven't forgotten that, have you?'

Tilting her chin slightly upward, Sheryl shot him a frosty sidelong glance. "Even if Sir fed you poison, shouldn't you take it without hesitation? Why are you hesitating? Don't disappoint Sir.

The suffocating pressure in Remy's chest intensified. It felt as though someone had a rifle trained on him, forcing him to retreat step by step toward the edge of a cliff. One more step, and he'd plummet to his death.

Clenching his jaw, he opened the pill bottle.

Under Sheryl's watchful gaze, he popped the pill into his mouth and swallowed it.

Very good. Always remember that you work for Sir. Never forget where you came from. With a mocking scoff, Sheryl turned on her heel and marched away confidently.

Remy moved forward, his expression unreadable.

moment he reached a blind spot in the security cameras,

the toilet, he jammed his fingers into the

the contents of his stomach- blue pill

to his face. His eyes, bloodshot

for the first time in years, he smiled-a genuine smile, one born from

in that moment, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the charming, gentle-looking man in the Taylor family portrait hanging in the living room

Villa.

had fallen, and Justin sat with several VIPs in the most opulent private

rare red wines, each bottle worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, as they basked in

of high status and power. Among the distinguished guests was Rafe Centry, the mayor overseeing the bidding for

Rafe said, raising his glass in a toast, his voice thick with alcohol; he was

is infamous for being difficult -rigid, stubborn, and utterly

during my rise to this position. Even then, I knew he wouldn't last long as president. And as it turns out, I was right.

around

"He simply couldn't hold onto what wasn't

he'd inherited the

room resounded

teacup-a stark contrast to the wine glasses around him. Taking

usual pickiness, was delighted by the respect shown to him. With a hearty laugh, he replied, "Not at all! You're too gracious, Mr.

voice remained calm. "In that

himself, citing his age