When There Is Nothing Left But Love

When There Is Nothing Left But Love Chapter 81

Like a devil, his mere presence instilled terror in others. Such was the description that fitted John Stovall.

“You!” He hung up after spitting out the word sinisterly.

Just when a myriad of emotions was rushing through me, a message soon arrived from him. It read: Lucksville Lane 221, four o’clock. Letty, be there or be square.

As I held onto my phone, looking at his message time and again, I forced myself to calm down. I tried to convince myself that it was impossible for a person to fall into the same trap over and over again.

Since I could not avoid John, I might as well brainstorm a way to make him stay away from me on his own accord.

Bzzzzzzttt! My phone vibrated suddenly, indicating an incoming call.

It was Ashton. The moment I picked up the call, a frosty voice filled with indifference came from the other end of the line, “Get ready. You’ll be accompanying me to a party later.”

Still feeling troubled because of the matter regarding John, I tried to come up with an excuse after a pause, “Is it necessary for me to attend? I’m feeling a little unwell today. I want to stay home and have a good rest.”

There was silence on the other end of the line before it was broken by his deep voice. “Is it very serious?”

Shaking my head, I assured him, “It’s not that serious, but I don’t want to go out.”

After a pause, I asked tentatively, “Is the party important?”

a good rest then.” His

some time preparing before getting in my car and drove directly

four o’clock

people were coming and going on the streets. The address John

called John, yet I could not get through to him. Just then, a young lady in a green dress ambled

her face, she looked at me and asked,

Surprised, I nodded.

in, Ms. Stovall. Don’t worry. Mr. Stovall has given us his instructions. Please

to the VIP room on the second floor. After giving some orders to a few people, she

I wasn’t a fool. That being said, I had

at me and said, “Ms. Stovall, don’t be nervous. Since Mr. Stovall

process was done. Looking at my almost unrecognizable self in the mirror, I frowned

for a black, sleek Bentley to wait for me outside the store. As I glanced at the car, I noticed that the chauffeur looked really

the man with my arms crossed and questioned, “What’s

Ms. Stovall doesn’t trust me?” the chauffeur

and

didn’t take long for him to recomposed himself though as he tried to convince me with a smile on his face, “Ms. Stovall, don’t worry. Mr. Stovall just wants

address.” I wasn’t going to let my guard down

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