Chapter 4

During that time she stayed at the Brown house, but her mother still did not give her any love, not even pity.

Rosabella still stood there, her hand on her cheek, her heart aching as if it were being cut into pieces.

Every time she came home late, her mother would find a way to make things difficult for her, but today it was a painful slap.

Cynthia approached from afar, laughing and mocking, her face full of pride, joking as if rubbing salt into her wound:

"You're coming home at this hour, you must be out flirting with some guys, right? No wonder you have money to pay the bank interest every month, and you go shopping too."

Rosabella closed her eyes, trying to endure it once more, she choked out: "Sorry."

Cynthia refused to give up and stood right in front of Rosabella, she pointed her finger and roared:

"You are so rude, my mother didn't permit me and you already want to leave. That's right, your biological parents are dead, luckily the Brown family is there to adopt you, otherwise, you would have died in some corner of this city by now."

There is a limit to human endurance, if there is too much water, the bank will break.

Rosabella gritted her teeth, her eyes widened, and she slowly approached her, making her fearfully retreat:

"What do you want to do?"

Her eyes were red, and the corners of her lips trembled as she spoke in a choked voice:

"I'm telling you, I've never flirted with men, I've always done my job well. And looking back at yourself, are you worthy of lecturing others? You're already nineteen years old and still have to beg for money. Also, from now on, I forbid you from mentioning my parents. Understand?"

 Cynthia pretended to cry miserably.

Lawrence, her mother who loved her blindly and didn't care about right or wrong, always defended her.

Without hesitation, she slapped Rosabella's face again.

The old wound that was still painful slapped her again, causing her face to go numb, her skin to turn pale, her eyebrows to furrow, and her body to tremble.

A man tried to use his weak strength to run over.

The old man looked to be in his eighties, thin, with white hair and beard, staggering like a drunk.

He raised his hand to his chest, his mouth open, panting, trying to say weakly:

"What are you two doing? Why is that girl's face like that? She has been working hard all day without rest, supporting this whole family by herself, and you still dare to be so cruel."

Cynthia arrogantly interjected: "It's because she's rude that my mother took action."

 That old man was Zohar Brown, Rosabella's grandfather.

He had always loved her like his own granddaughter, but he was old and weak and could no longer be by her side to protect her like before.

Grandpa trembled and pointed at Cynthia and said, "You too, find a job, just bully your sister all day long. If you were as good at everything as bullying your sister, our family wouldn't have to worry."

Cynthia blushed, her heart filled with anger, her eyes widened, her body jerked, and she jumped up:

"I am your real granddaughter, and she is just an adopted child in this family. To be more precise, our family is raising a servant."

Grandpa Zohar was surprised by Cynthia's words, he held his chest and gasped, coughing continuously, his hand weakly pointing at her.

"You..."

Before he could finish his sentence, Cynthia angrily left, not caring whether Grandpa was okay. It seemed that pampering too much was also a crime that could destroy a person.

Rosabella hurriedly ran to help her grandfather back to his room.

Then, she returned to her room, slammed the door, and lay down on the bed.

Her whole body was exhausted, her limbs were numb, and the wound on her face was extremely painful.

Her heart was in chaos, and countless thoughts rushed back.

She didn't know when she would truly be herself again.

---

At the Romano family's villa, five stories high, a rough estimate of several trillion was normal. The luxurious villa, with splendid interiors and all the most precious things in the world, was probably one of the best houses in City A. Even the maid's room was much better than an average person's house.

From the inside out or from the outside in, the decorations were eye-catching and bright. The architecture was specially designed, mainly made of wood, very beautiful and luxurious, with a touch of the antiquity of the past and the elegance of the modern. 

Viktor Romano gently knocked on his father's door: "Dad, can I come in?" 

A slow voice rang out from inside the room: "Come in." 

Viktor Romano opened the door, walked to the bed, sat down, and slowly said:

"Dad, my subordinates have found out where Dawson Brown is now."

Usha Romano was overjoyed, he tried to sit up with his hands, smiled brightly, and kept asking:

"Where? Where is he now?"

Viktor Romano was also happy to see his father like that. It had been a long time since he had seen a bright smile on his father's face. Surely when he got old, he felt less lonely. His wife died early, and for many years he had no one to confide in. Even though he had many children and grandchildren, how could they understand the feelings of an old man like him? So when he found his old friend, his heart was filled with emotions, his youth awakened, and memories of the past flooded back. 

It had been more than ten years since his old friend left without a word of farewell, making him feel guilty until now. When he was in trouble, that friend was always by his side to comfort him, even selling his house to help him get back on his feet when the Romano Group was on the brink of bankruptcy. But when the company stabilized, he went back to find that person, but there was no more news. 

Suddenly, Usha was moved to tears. Maybe it was partly because of the memories of the past, or maybe because he was so happy to find his old friend.

Viktor Romano was a little worried and slowly said: "In city B, a border province of the neighboring country."