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.

quickened gradually. The moment he reached a blind spot in the security cameras,

of the toilet, he jammed his

as he vomited the contents of his stomach- blue pill included-into the toilet

cold, sticky drool clinging to his face. His eyes, bloodshot and brimming with unshed tears, mirrored his disheveled

genuine smile, one born from the

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

Villa.

in the most opulent private room of Solana City's

wines, each bottle worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, as they basked in the evening's

officials of high status and power. Among the distinguished

Mr. Beckett, president of Beckett Group, now," Rafe said, raising his glass

surpassed your predecessor. Your younger brother is

wouldn't last long as president. And as it

around the

right," another guest interjected. "He simply couldn't hold onto what wasn't his to

Mr. Justin as the eldest son. Jasper had no business assuming he'd inherited the company just because he held the title of president. Who does he think

resounded with boisterous

wine glasses around him. Taking

to him. With a hearty laugh, he replied, "Not at all! You're

eyes, though his voice remained

excused himself, citing his age