Chapter 541
Chapter 541:
“Myron, your daughter is really a piece of work,” Nettie sneered, tugging Beckett to his feet. “Come on, son. It’s time to leave. Don’t waste your time on this troublemaker.”
Jett, who had remained silent until now, let out a heavy sigh, disappointment written clearly across his face as he glanced at Bonita.
The sight of Jett’s disapproval sent Myron into a panic. His voice trembled as he tried to soothe him. “Mr. Ramirez, please, I—”
Jett cut him off with a stern “Enough. From this moment on, there should be no further dealings between our families.”
The words struck Myron like a blow. Panic surged through him. How could this be happening? The survival of the Perry family depended on the Ramirez family!
Desperate, Myron grabbed Bonita by the hair, yanking her painfully toward Beckett’s feet. He forced her to look up at him, his voice harsh and commanding. “Apologize right now! Admit you were wrong and swear you’ll never do it again! Say it!”
A sense of detachment washed over Bonita, as if her body had become foreign to her, the pain too much to endure.
The cold disdain in Nettie’s gaze, Jett’s dismissive judgment, her mother’s indifference, and her father’s harsh words—all felt like blades driven deep into her chest.
But the most unbearable of all was the sting of her own parents’ attitude. Why was she always the one blamed? Why did it fall on her to apologize and give in?
Bonita gritted her teeth, the pressure building inside her to an unbearable level, as if she were on the verge of shattering.
A sudden click echoed through the room as a key card unlocked the door, and it swung open with a creak.
Fernanda stepped in, momentarily pausing as she thought she’d entered the wrong room.
She quickly checked the room number and then the key card in her hand—there was no mistake.
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Myron turned to Fernanda, his face hardening with suspicion. “Who are you?”
Fernanda’s eyes swept the room, landing on the sight of Bonita being dragged by her hair.
“Bonita!” Fernanda cried, rushing forward without a second thought. She shoved Myron aside and gently helped Bonita to her feet, her hands steady on her shoulders.
Seeing the damage to Bonita’s face, Fernanda whispered, “What happened? Who did this to you?”
As soon as Bonita saw Fernanda, a wave of relief washed over her, and the tears she had held back poured freely once again.
Myron, irritated by Fernanda’s silence, demanded once more, “Didn’t you hear me? Who are you?”
“I’m Bonita’s friend. And you are?” Fernanda paused, assessing him briefly before answering coolly.
.
.
.