CHAPTER 282 YOU CAN'T RUN
Chapter 282 You Can't Run
But the moment she applied force, the man grabbed her hands.
Victoria glared a deathly glare at Charlie.
"Just give it a rest! Don't even dream of taking the child from me. I'll die before I let you get your way."
Charlie sneered.
"Then we'll just have to wait and see whose victory it is." Nôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.
He turned around after that.
Victoria closed her eyes and managed to suppress her rage.
At least she'd managed to shoo him off... not. She opened her eyes and found him walking towards the
bedroom.
Victoria's face changed instantly.
"What are you doing, Charlie Peck?"
"It's getting late, right? I'm going to rest, of course."
"This is my house. If you want to rest, go home."
"Ha!"
The man stood in the doorway to the bedroom, looking down at the flushing woman.
He reached out and tilted her chin up.
Victoria jerked her head away, but he didn't get mad. He simply leered.
"Before this child is born, I'll be everywhere you go. I told you. Don't even dream of escaping. I'm a man
of my word."
Victoria had no words.
And so Charlie ended up staying at Victoria's rented apartment.
Victoria was fuming, but there was nothing she could do.
It was too late to call the police.
He was the child's father, and if things got heated, it would become even messier.
She'd never thought that this usually calm, collected person could descend to such a level.
Victoria looked at the man lying on her bed and felt the beginnings of an ulcer.
The apartment wasn't small, but because she was living here on her own, she'd rented the sort of
large, seventy square meter apartment with a wall separating the middle, a bedroom on the inside, and
an open kitchen and living room on the outside.
Now that this man had taken up her bed, she couldn't squeeze in there, so her only option was the
sofa.
Victoria hugged her belly, steaming.
She cursed him quietly. Men who bullied pregnant women would die badly.
Still, the moment she muttered the curse, she jolted and took it back.
Spirits above, that was just some nonsense because she was mad, she didn't mean it, no sir.
Forget death. Let's keep the curse at nightmares and diarrhea.
Yeah, a slap on the wrist.
Ever since getting pregnant, Victoria had started somewhat believing in those sorts of superstitions.
After mumbling incantations to herself, she spread out some blankets on the sofa and got ready to
sleep.
The sofa wasn't small, and the production quality was high. It was soft and bouncy, so it wasn't
uncomfortable to lie on.
But because Victoria was getting big, she wasn't sleeping well to begin with, and it was worse lying on
the sofa. She tossed and turned for several hours without managing to fall asleep.
Only until it was the small hours of the morning and she was utterly exhausted did she finally drift off to
sleep.
Deep in the night.
After who knows how long, the bedroom door was suddenly pushed open from the inside.
A tall figure walked out and looked calmly down at the woman on the sofa.
Her body was tilted sideways. Because she was sleeping poorly, her delicate features were creased
with tiredness. Her brow was slightly furrowed, and there were faint black bags under her eyes.
Charlie stood there expressionlessly for a while, then strode over.
Standing in front of her with the moonlight streaming through the living room window, her face was lit
up like porcelain.
He reached out, as if to touch that silky smooth skin.
But his hand only reached halfway before it stopped. Recalling something, he shrank back.
His face grew even colder.
After a while, he scoffed and turned around to leave.
In her daze, Victoria felt an endless cold, and, barely conscious, she seemed to see a dark shadow
pass before her and moaned.
"Charlie."
Charlie's receding form stiffened.
He turned around and looked at her.
The woman huddled on the sofa had slender limbs and a pale face. She seemed so fragile.
Maybe because the night was too cold, but she had curled up, hands protecting her stomach, half of
the blanket falling to the floor, showing her meagre frame.
His tight face changed slightly.
After a while, he still went up and picked her up.
Victoria was still sleeping. She'd felt a bit cold, but a ball of fire had seemingly enveloped her.
She leant towards to the warmth and smiled contentedly.
What a comfortable warmth.
Charlie looked at the woman snuggling into his chest, his face once again darkening.
But he didn't say anything. He simply picked her up, carried her into the bedroom, and set her down on
the bed.
For the rest of the night, Victoria slept soundly.
Maybe it was because she was tired. Or maybe, because that familiar presence had stayed around her,
she felt like she'd returned to the past. She might have been dreaming, but she didn't want to wake.
So she slept deep and only woke at ten or so the next morning.
By the time she woke up, Charlie had long since been awake.
She sat up and looked around, dazed.
As she remembered it, hadn't she been sleeping on the sofa last night? Why was she back on her
bed?
Victoria looked at the blanket laid over her body and recalled the indistinct figure she'd seen last night.
Had it... not been a dream?
Because she'd been drowsy, she didn't remember too many details about last night.
All she could barely remember was that she'd seen the shape of a person.
She didn't know where that man had gone, but he couldn't have really left. He always meant what he
said, and he'd said that he'd never leave on his own until she gave birth.
Besides, they were only half a month away from when she was expected to go into labor.
Victoria sat down on the couch and called her maid.
Ever since she'd left last night, she hadn't come back.
Victoria hadn't noticed then, but thinking about it today, she was quite worried.
The phone rang for a long while, but nobody picked up.
At that moment, the door opened.
She started and saw Charlie walk in. At the same time, she noticed that the door he'd broken down
yesterday had been fixed sometime today.
He looked at Victoria, his expression unkind.
Victoria thought about it. Since he was living here, they couldn't very well go on waging their cold war.
After all, last night, it seemed to have been him who carried her to the bed.
Whatever. She should cut him some slack.
So, Victoria spoke herself. "I hired a maid called Eva, but she hasn't come back yet and I can't get in
contact with her. If you're hungry in the afternoon, find some way to make your own food."