At the Paulson mansion, the black van pulled into the grounds and parked.
Three men in black climbed out, striding to the rear door and flinging it open.
Cindy huddled on the back seat, tears streaking down her cheeks, her big blue eyes swollen and red. She had feared the men were dragging her to some unknown territory. But they had brought her back to her father's house—a place that filled her with misery.
"Come out now," one of the men grabbed her hand, his body tensing at how soft her skin felt. Blood rushed to his dîck, making it rock hard as he desired to claim her. But they had only been instructed to bring her back.
His eyes trailed her body, settling on her full breasts, partly revealed in her white dress, which had opened at the top, exposing her fresh skin.
"Thank you, boys," Mabel's sweet voice sliced through the air, snapping the man's lust away.
A paycheck of 1 million dollars awaited them for bringing Cindy back—a total contrast to her body. Would he trade 1 million dollars for Cindy's fair and porcelain skin?
"Thank you so much for bringing her back. I'll transfer your money, but you know that's after she's successfully delivered to her husband," Mabel said, her voice firm as she caught the man's lustful eyes lingering on Cindy's chest.
"Alright, Madam. So when do we expect our payment?" he asked, his voice firm but laced with longing.
"Tomorrow. Just in case she tries to escape again," Mabel said, her tone brimming with assurance as she urged the men to leave her abode immediately.
"Alright, we'll take our leave. But remember, one call, and we're at your doorstep, ready to serve," the leader of the men spoke, his gaze still devouring Cindy with desire.
His eyes raked over her once more, and he gulped down his urge before hopping into the car with his men. Before long, the engine roared to life, and he drove off.
"You ungrateful brat. Do you think you can run away from this marriage?" Mabel demanded, striding purposefully toward Cindy. Her gaze landed on the fresh handprint on Cindy's cheek.
"Who slapped you?" Mabel growled, fearing the mark would reveal to the Sullivan family that Cindy had been forced into marrying the old man—old enough to be her grandpa.
Cindy refused to speak, her arms crossed as she realized she couldn't escape her family until she grew rich and influential enough to hire her own bodyguards.
Seeing the red handprint on Cindy's left cheek, Tasha trembled as she stepped out of the house, eager to leave home and join her friends at a club. She had just taken a bath and slipped into a fresh red mini dress paired with black shoes.
Knowing Cindy was back too, Tasha growled, "Mom, let Cindy ice her cheek. The mark will fade with the help of makeup. I cannot marry that old man." She chewed her bubble gum noisily as her mother stood speechless while her father scowled.
"You're right. Get Miss Edwards to bring the ice pack," Mabel ordered, her gaze steady and sharp as she pondered the 20 million dollars she might lose if the deal fell through. It would mean all her efforts had been in vain.
Mr. Daniel Sullivan had promised to compensate her after the wedding was registered. So she waited for her daughter to fetch the ice pack.
Tasha rushed into the house to grab the ice pack, dreading the thought of marrying an old man. What would her friends say? How could she wed someone old enough to be her grandfather? Would he even satisfy her intimately?
With a swift motion, Tasha dashed out of the house and thrust the ice pack toward Cindy, who refused to accept it.
"Cindy, here's the ice pack. Put it on your cheek," Tasha said, prying open Cindy's hand and dropping the ice pack into it.
Cindy wanted to hurl the ice pack away, but her father's stern voice cut through the tension as he ordered, "Cindy, if you throw that ice pack away, I'll withdraw your mother's medical supplies—and I'm sure you don't want her dead. Also, I'll cut off your admission at Brooklyn University. Let's see how you'll cope with all that."
Cindy scowled, knowing she couldn't let that happen. She had no one to help her. Her father's siblings cared only about Tasha and Amos. No one listened to her. She felt like the abandoned daughter.
Cindy pondered the elderly Mr. Daniel Sullivan. He was old, but he had once been a wealthy billionaire—one of the richest men in Brooklyn City.
With his help, Cindy felt certain he would treat her well and secure the cure her mother deserved. She wouldn't face unfair treatment anymore, even if her husband was labeled an old man; many families feared the mighty Sullivan clan.
With that thought in mind, Cindy pressed the ice pack to her cheek as the sting from her manager's slap throbbed.
"Good," Mabel smiled, seeing that Tonia's plight wasn't useless after all. If they could use her health problems to threaten Cindy.
"Can I go inside now?" Cindy asked, knowing she had lost her job. There was no point in leaving the house. She wanted to retreat to her room and search for her husband's name—to glimpse the face of the elderly man she would marry.
The thought of an elderly man sleeping with her made her tremble, but she knew she had to make the sacrifice.
Before Mabel could reply—her face etched with relief—her phone rang loudly, and since she held it, she glanced at the screen and saw the Sullivan family name.
It was her husband's phone in her hands.
"Honey, it's Mr. Sullivan on the line," Mabel said, frantically rushing to hand the phone to Mr. Paulson.
Rex Paulson accepted the phone, cleared his throat, and spoke in a steady, calm voice. "Hello, Mr. Sullivan."
"Yes, good evening, my in-law. I think we should start calling ourselves in-laws since your daughter has agreed to marry me," Mr. Sullivan said, his voice gentle but sincere.
"Alright, in-law. To what do I owe this call? Should I bring my daughter over? She is willing to marry you from the depths of her heart," Mr. Paulson said, his voice booming with excitement, prompting Mr. Sullivan to laugh.
"Alright. I'm glad she made her choice. Actually, there's something I want to clarify: it's not me who needs a wife. It's my grandson, Nicolas Sullivan. But you know, if I had made this official from the start, many women would flood my residence, which I don't want. So that's why I set the condition that I'm seeking the bride, and I'm able to take care of my wife," Mr. Sullivan said, his voice hoarse but laced with sincerity.