A Journey from Bitterness to Truth (Matilda and Yvan) novel Chapter 87

Chapter 87 

When Matilda felt the cool touch of the fingers, it was like her entire being ignited in an instant, the following moments slipping beyond thought and into the realm of the uncontrollable. 

Mason, with his other hand hanging idly by his side, suddenly tightened his grip. pulling Matilda into the bathtub. The shock of cold water against her skin snapped her back to a brief moment of lucidity. 

But it was akin to a drop in the bucket. 

Elsewhere, Yvan had just finished a meal with a business associate and was heading toward the underground parking when he spotted Troy skulking around. 

Instinctively, he asked, “Who’s that? Looks familiar.” 

“That’s Micah’s son.” Yvan’s companion replied, “Micah’s a decent man, but it’s a shame about his son. Up to no good, I bet.” 

“Is that so.” Yvan responded indifferently, just as Troy approached, greasing up to them with a too–eager hello. Yvan returned the greeting with a cool detachment, offering nothing more. 

But it was Troy who broke the silence, “Mr. Boyd, have you seen a woman on your way down here?” 

“A woman?” 

Yvan, about to walk away, paused as he looked at Troy, bewildered, “What woman?” 

Troy approached with a sly smile, replying, “I slipped a little something to a dame I fancy, you know.” 

Disgusted by Troy’s leering face. Yvan wondered if the man had any brains at all. Did he really think everyone operated on the same base instincts as him? 

Troy, oblivious to Yvan’s revulsion, carried on, “But just as I was shaking off the old man, she disappeared. What a drag.” 

Yvan, not wanting to involve himself with Troy any further and demean his own standards, was about to leave with his associate when Troy muttered something that stopped Yvan dead in his tracks. 

He said, “Strange, where did Ms. Thompson go? Surely Mason didn’t swoop in and 

cash in on my tuck?” 

Ms. Thompson, Mason?! 

A thunderous boom seemed to explode in Yvan’s ears. He snapped back to reality his eyes turned cold and sharp as daggers, “Pepeat what you just sag 

“M–Mr. Boyd,” Troy stumbled backward, intimidated by the murderous inRARE HI Yvan’s eyes, “I said, Ms. Thompson…she might have been, pk ked up by lizen You don’t know her, do you?” 

“Which Ms. Thompson?!” Yvan only felt his heart lurch, his adrenaline surged at Troy’s words. 

“Uh…I’m not sure which one. It’s just…the designer my dad was dealing with the They call her…Dawn, I think,”