My Gorgeous Wife is an Ex-Convict!

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Grace looked at the back of her right hand, at the spot where Maria had stepped on today.

“Today, when I was working, I accidentally hit it. It’s nothing,” she said casually, not wanting him to worry.

“Is that so?” Jason stared fixedly at Grace. “Sister, if someone bullies you, just tell me and I will stand up for you.”

He would make those people pay the price. In the future, no one would dare bully her.

For a moment, her heart pounded quickly. It was as if he knew everything. Was he …testing her? She didn’t want to lie. Not to him. But she didn’t want him to worry either.

Especially when he couldn’t help her.

He was poor and broken down like her. And if he were to take on one of those privileged assholes, it’d only end badly for him.

And she wouldn’t let that happen.

“I can protect myself,” she said.

“What if you can’t?” he asked.

If that were the case, it would still be useless to tell him, but

Grace did not say that. She didn’t want to prolong this

conversation.

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“Don’t you want me to protect you?” He stared at her with his dark and deep eyes.

She bit her lip. “You already saved me once, remember? Now it’s my turn to try and protect you. And I’ll try my best not to let others bully us.”

a flash in his eyes, but he did not say anything in the end. Instead, he simply replied

for. Underneath the hot water, she tried to channel all of those terrible feelings and fears

only partially

she learned? That there were many people above

couldn’t lose.

was

She shuddered.

on the second floor

abused

who’d stood by and

press charges, they

didn’t have enough money to buy entire juries… if anyone actually cared about her or the pain

seeking justice was pointless.

never come for a

okay. You’re

is a

again, but deep down, she knew it

wasn’t true.

hard to bite back the words he

hand, he knew why she remained silent. His ‘sister’ was hellbent on protecting him. Which was

the other night. If that was the case, well, f*ck that. He’d been

mother him because he’d sensed that was what

sat back down at the

worked in the dim light of the kitchen lamp to sew back together the uniform shirt that Gregory

clenched

some nameless

was hanging loosely over her shoulders. Her hair seemed to lack some shine due to malnutrition. After three hard years of imprisonment and the recent exposure to the wind and sun, her skin was not fair at all. Even though she had a comely appearance, she still looked weathered, and given all that had befallen her in the short

was sewing her clothes, stitch by stitch, and…

about her was unusually

the circles he moved in, he seldom saw women sewing clothes like this. The very notion was laughable. The women he

year.

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