A month ago, it was Vincent's 25th birthday. I specially prepared a birthday cake for him and watched him make a wish.
In the dim candlelight, Vincent closed his eyes and made a wish with a tender look.
He also smiled and joked with me, "My greatest wish is that you and my parents will live in peace and happiness forever."
I pretended to be unhappy. "The wish will not come true if it is spoken out."
He smiled slightly and was about to close his eyes to make another wish.
All of a sudden, he opened his eyes, which weren't filled with tender care but hatred. It was so obvious that I could feel it clearly.
Veins bulged on his forehead, sweat kept rolling down, and the joints on the back of his hands were protruding.
I reached out anxiously. "Vincent, what's wrong with you?"
Vincent angrily knocked my hand away and shouted, "Do not touch me!"
He was so cruel that it frightened me to the point of being stunned.
Without paying any attention to me, Vincent stood up suddenly, looked around, and then stared at the cake in front of him.
There were candles on it and the number 25 was beautifully carved on it, representing that he was celebrating his 25th birthday.
He was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter while realizing what was happening.
"Thank goodness, I have the chance to live once again!"
After saying that, he forcefully overturned the cake on the ground, as if venting out the anger that had been bottled up in his chest for a long time.
The cream covered the tiled floor in a collapsed, sticky, and disgusting mess.
In my mind, Vincent was always gentle and polite, rarely giving vent to his temper, and I once again cautiously shouted out, "Vincent..."
He then noticed me and turned to stare at me with venomous eyes.
"Kara Bell, I am so brainless that I couldn't find you're vicious! You deliberately stayed in my home just to get the Murphy Group!"
In the hot summer, I felt cold all over.
He was wrong, and I had never coveted the Murphy family's property.
I knew my true identity from the beginning, and I was always grateful to Cato for taking me in.
Cato was a nice person and never treated me differently just because I had no blood relationship with him.
As I grew older, I became more and more attached to the home, which was filled with warmth everywhere.