Love Me Back (Amelia and Daniel) novel Chapter 291

Daniel stepped outside and nearly collided with Violet, who looked flustered and shaken.

“Daniel,” Violet’s eyes turned red the moment she saw him. “Please don’t be angry. I didn’t know things would turn out like this…”

Daniel’s gaze was icy, pinning her in place. “Are you really going to claim you didn’t do this on purpose?”

Violet shrank back half a step, looking for all the world like a frightened rabbit. “I just… I was upset and called Mogan. I’m sure he didn’t mean for it to happen, either.”

Daniel couldn’t stand to hear another word. He strode past her, but Violet hurried after him.

“Daniel, Mogan truly didn’t mean any harm. It was just bad luck that the car he rear-ended happened to be Amelia’s. Is she all right? Let’s go to the hospital together and check on her—please…”

Without a word, Daniel opened the car door and slid inside, slamming it shut and leaving Violet out in the cold.

He rolled down the window, his jawline sharp and unforgiving.

“Violet.” His voice was so cold it could chill bone. “I’ve told you before: people need to know when enough is enough. If you try to take everything for yourself, you’re bound to go down with the ship.”

The car sped off, leaving Violet standing at the curb, biting her lip so hard she could taste blood.

She didn’t want everything. All she ever wanted was him. He was hers to begin with—she was just taking back what belonged to her from a stand-in. How did that make her greedy?

…

In the car, Daniel dialed a number with an Elm City area code.

“Mr. Campbell?” Horace Brown sounded mildly surprised. “I almost thought I’d misread the caller ID.”

Daniel’s voice was calm, betraying nothing. “Do you have a moment, Mr. Brown?”

Elm City. The windowless basement was stifling and oppressive, the kind of place that made your nerves stand on end the moment you walked in.

Horace stood in the center of the room, dressed in a tailored suit, silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. The black riding crop in his hand looked jarringly out of place against his refined appearance.

Mogan’s expression didn’t flicker when he saw the crop. Wordlessly, he took off his shirt.

“Not afraid of pain, are you?” Horace tossed the crop to another man and turned his back.

Each lash landed mercilessly, splitting the skin open. Even the toughest man would struggle not to cry out.

Horace’s voice was as cold and precise as the blows. “The Brown family took you in, paid for your mother’s care, gave you everything. You owe us your loyalty. Don’t forget your place.”

Mogan’s face was slick with sweat, his body trembling from the pain. He clenched his teeth. “I haven’t forgotten.”