Chapter 9 Badly Hurt

Braydon grabbed Joyce by the chin and locked eyes with her. In a low voice, with tears in her eyes, she said, "Truly, a bitch like me doesn't deserve to bear your child, Mr. Huo."

Albert, seeing his mother in danger, leapt into action to protect her. He raised his little hand high in the air and hit Braydon, shouting, "Stop bullying my mom! Bad guy, let go of her!"

The little boy's pounding fists felt like gusts of wind to Braydon, but in the end, he loosened his grip on the woman.

Albert glared up at him fiercely, determined to defend his mother. His face, which Joyce had gone through lengths to hide, was now fully exposed.

The man and the child bore a strikingly similar appearance-both had wild brows and deep eyes. Aside from the baby face, Albert looked like a miniature version of Braydon.

Feeling as though he was staring at a mirror, Braydon's mind went blank for a second, but it didn't take long for him to put two and two together.

He turned to Joyce and glared at her with such hatred, she feared he was going to eat her alive.

Clenching his teeth, Braydon asked, "If this boy isn't mine, can you explain to me why he looks so much like me?"

Joyce's heart leapt to her throat. With Braydon staring at her so ferociously, she almost felt like caving and telling him everything.

But then she was reminded that Albert was here. Willing herself to calm down, she said in a calm voice, "It's just a coincidence, some people look alike. There's nothing strange about that at all."

While her face managed to remain expressionless, her trembling lower lip betrayed her emotions.

Braydon's eyes flashed dangerously.

Just as he was about to lash out in anger, his assistant came rushing over. "Mr. Huo, Miss Wen fainted."

The look on Braydon's face changed completely. Instead of asking about the child, he walked past Joyce and went to Maranda's side. In one sweeping movement, he picked up the fragile lady in his arms and left.

Everything had happened so fast, Joyce barely had the time to gather her bearings.

Before he left, he turned around to lock eyes with Joyce once more. "You have half a day to give me an explanation."

Then, he left in a rush with the unconscious lady in his arms.

Although it was still summer and the sun was shining brightly, Joyce shivered.

It felt as though a cold wind was blowing in her heart, riddled with ice and snow, chilling her to her core.

She lowered her head and buried her face in Albert's neck. After a while, she raised her head and revealed her reddened eyes. "Baby, let me take you home, okay?"

Her voice was soft, as though she was afraid she'd disturb someone or something.

She looked frail, as though one gust of wind would be enough to sweep her away.

Albert was a perceptive child. He knew instantly that his mother was sad. Wrapping his chubby arms around her neck tightly, he replied, "Okay, let's go home."

Somehow, these four simple words sent a wave of warmth to Joyce's frozen heart. Tears started to stream down her face.

Albert reached out his little hand and wiped her tears. "Mom, don't cry. Don't be afraid. I drove the bad guy away. He won't hurt you anymore."

These words echoed in Joyce's mind.

She didn't reply. Bitterly, she thought to herself, 'How's that possible? The one who loves first loses. Braydon's just going to hurt me all over again.'