Chapter 2 I'm Not Like You Or The Others

"You..."

Debra found herself at a loss for words. She was so angry, she wanted to shred the audacious Waylon to pieces.

She longed to yell that she wasn't interested in any romantic ties with him, nor was she willing to work together with him on such a matter. But could she actually say that out loud?

If she did, Waylon would surely tease her for dishonoring her late grandfather's memory and brand her an ungrateful granddaughter.

In the end, Debra knew she had no choice but to comply.

"You're set on staying in my house, aren't you? Fine, you win!"

Recognizing the futility of resistance and acknowledging her lack of control, Debra forcefully dropped her house key on the table and stormed off.

Would it really matter if he stayed at her place?

Living together for three months wouldn't change her feelings. Debra knew she'd never grow fond of him.

Even if Waylon moved into her house, it would only amplify her disdain and loathing for him.

"This will all be over in three months!" Debra silently fortified herself. Over the next three months, she was determined not to let this disrespectful man have an easy time.

However, after Debra took a few steps, Waylon's voice caused her to stumble nearly to the floor. "Oh, and honey, make sure to pay for the coffee before you leave. I'm out of cash!"

What was her grandfather thinking, setting her up with this kind of man? He couldn't even afford a cup of coffee!

That was just ridiculous!

After settling the bill, Debra exited the cafe, and shortly after, Waylon followed. About an hour later, he arrived at the city's most prestigious cemetery. Before him stood a tombstone marked with the name Ethan Morgan.

The engraved portrait of the old man looked kind and gentle. This was Debra's grandfather and Waylon's lifesaver.

Five years ago, during a mission in Mbita, Waylon had been severely injured. It was Ethan who had orchestrated his miraculous escape from his enemies.

Waylon never forgot that debt.

It was out of gratitude for Ethan's help that Waylon had agreed to marry Debra and vowed to guard her life fiercely, ensuring her safety always.

It was hard to believe that just over a month ago, Ethan, who had been speaking with Waylon over the phone, now lay here as mere ashes...

Waylon lit his final cigarette and inhaled deeply.

Looking at the tombstone, he murmured, "Ethan, you can rest easy now. As long as I'm around, Debra will be safe. And about your death... It's suspicious. I'll find out what happened and avenge you!"

After he finished his cigarette, Waylon didn't stick around. He left the cemetery, his solitary figure fading into the distance like a fierce wolf, scarred by numerous battles...

Debra had handed Waylon the key to her house, but she hadn't given him the exact address. Fortunately, over a month earlier, Ethan had filled Waylon in on everything about Debra, including where she lived.

Standing before Waylon was an impressive villa nestled deep within Blossom Villas. Painted a soft light blue, it boasted a quaint courtyard surrounded by lush greenery, radiating opulence.

"This villa is impressive. Guess this means I'm about to marry into a wealthy family, huh?" Waylon muttered under his breath, his eyes lighting up as he gazed at the villa that many men wished to enter. A sly, cheeky smile crept across his face.

"Marry into a wealthy family? Ha! Just look at yourself!"

Just as Waylon was about to enter the villa, a scornful voice cut through the air.

Waylon turned toward the voice and spotted a man in his thirties. The man wore gold-rimmed glasses and a sharp suit, marking him as someone successful. Clutching a bouquet of bright roses, he seemed to be waiting for someone.

"What are you staring at? You'll never be like me, loser!" the man with the gold-rimmed glasses scoffed. "This world is full of different folks. A simpleton like you dreaming of marrying into wealth? You're not even fit to be a servant for Debra!"

"Are you one of Debra's admirers?" Waylon eyed the man with gold-rimmed glasses and gave a curious smile.

"Absolutely!" the man with gold-rimmed glasses said scornfully. "Anyone who shows up here is chasing after Debra. Isn't that why you're here too? But let me give you a friendly tip. Get lost. With the way you look, Debra won't even give you a second glance."

"You've misunderstood. I'm not like you or the others," Waylon replied, still smiling.

"You are indeed different. You're just a country boy, nothing more! Meanwhile, I come from a distinguished family. I've achieved success and now I'm the general manager of my own company. Obviously, we're nothing alike!" the man with gold-rimmed glasses declared disdainfully.

"You're mistaken." Waylon shook his head. "What I'm saying is, while you're all chasing after Debra, I'm actually her husband. That's the difference."

"What? You're Debra's husband? What bullshit are you talking about?"

Initially shocked, the man with the gold-rimmed glasses burst out laughing. "That's hilarious! You, Debra's husband? Take a look at yourself. Why would you think you deserve her?"

"You don't believe me?" Waylon wondered if he really looked so unimpressive.

"Should I believe you?" the man with the gold-rimmed glasses sneered. "Hah, sounds like you're just obsessed with her!"

"What if I really am her husband?"

After a moment's thought, Waylon smiled, "I said 'if.'"

"If?" The man with gold-rimmed glasses snorted. "If you're truly Debra's husband, I'll eat your shit. But that can't be true, can it?"

"The truth will come out soon enough." Waylon grinned. "But eating shit is too gross. You're already gross enough. If I'm really Debra's husband, you hand over a thousand dollars. How about it?"

Waylon was short on cash after his sudden return home.

"Typical," the man with gold-rimmed glasses sneered, a smirk on his face. "A country boy only thinks about money!"

He tilted his head back arrogantly. "A thousand dollars is mere pocket change to me. Here's a better idea. If you really are Debra's husband, I'll give you ten thousand! But if you're not, I won't take your money. Instead, I want you to eat shit! Do you dare to take that bet?"

"I doubt you will be able to handle what happens next."

Waylon narrowed his eyes and pulled out a key from his pocket. It was the key that Debra had given him.

The man with the gold-rimmed glasses was taken aback.

As someone who had pursued Debra relentlessly over the years, he immediately recognized the keychain in Waylon's hand. Wasn't that the key Debra used to open her gate?

How did this simpleton get Debra's key?

Could he really be her husband?