Bullied and Dumped, But She Won in the End (Adriana) novel Chapter 160

**When Time Tried to Heal Me But I Refused to Listen by Kael Niro Senn**
**Chapter 160: Danielle’s Derision**

In his grasp, he held the well-worn rosary, a cherished token that had accompanied him through countless trials. It was a gift from Jeremy, bestowed upon him on his eighteenth birthday, a relic from a priest at Mount Pine Church.

That very year had been marred by tragedy when Justin fell gravely ill. The fever clutched him tightly, refusing to relinquish its hold despite their desperate pleas at numerous hospitals and the frantic consultations with every doctor they could find. Then, in a moment of divine intervention, the priest had presented him with that rosary. Miraculously, by morning, the fever had lifted as if it had never existed at all.

Since that fateful night, Justin had clung to the rosary as if it were an extension of himself. It had become a symbol of his faith, a tangible reminder of the miracle he had experienced, and thus, it was never far from his hand.

“You really are a mutt,” Danielle spat, her voice laced with derision, sharp as a blade. “You don’t even know who your master is.”

Justin remained motionless beside her, his demeanor a picture of tranquility. His expression was serene, his eyes obscuring any flicker of emotion. It was as if her words drifted past him, failing to find purchase in his mind or heart.

Had this been Curtis, Danielle would have been reduced to tears, her spirit shattered by his words. But Justin was not Curtis.

He sat there, silent and unyielding, fingers grazing the cool surface of the rosary while he meticulously brewed his tea, each movement deliberate and calm.

“Still got that lifeless face,” Danielle taunted, leaning closer, her voice dripping with contempt. “What’s wrong with you? Are you broken or something? Is that why you cling to that rosary as if your very existence depends on it?”

Her words snapped like a whip, yet Justin did not flinch. He avoided her gaze, remaining still as stone. His silence radiated a heat more intense than any insult she could hurl at him.

The more composed he appeared, the more her frustration boiled over, rising like water in a pot on the verge of boiling.

Her breath quickened, and her voice trembled with indignation. “Don’t you dare look down on me! You’re just the family’s pet. I’m the one in charge here. You’re meant to obey me, not the other way around!”

At last, Justin stirred. He lifted his head slowly, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver racing down her spine. His eyes, a deep and mesmerizing blue with hints of brown, were unyielding and unnervingly beautiful.

In that moment, Danielle’s heart faltered.

He was half-Mowelander, a legacy of his father, a foreign teacher who had crossed moral boundaries with one of his students before vanishing back to Moweland. That young woman, barely in her second year of college, had given birth to Justin in secrecy, overwhelmed by fear and shame, ultimately abandoning him to an orphanage without a backward glance.

Justin’s features were predominantly shaped by his mother, yet those striking blue eyes—an alluring mix of colors—held a depth that was impossible to ignore. They were cold, captivating, and disturbingly unwavering.

“Maybe I am a mutt,” Justin replied, his voice a low and steady rumble. “But I only belong to Ms. Nicole.” As he spoke, his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly, and the muscles in his throat tightened, exuding a strength that belied any notion of weakness. His very presence exuded a restrained power that twisted something deep within Danielle’s gut.

She turned her head away, heart racing with a mixture of anger and unease.

Pathetic dog. She would bide her time until the day he lost everything—then she would make him kneel before her, crush that calm demeanor, and relish in watching him shatter. He couldn’t remain expressionless forever.

“Justin, you’re here!”

Jeremy’s voice echoed from the hallway as he emerged from his room, his presence commanding yet weary.

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