After hanging up the phone decisively, Emma felt relieved. On the other end of the line, William was stunned.
In the past, even if he spoke harshly, Emma would still try to please him. But this time, she had not only cursed at him but also hung up on him.
After a moment of shock, William sneered, "Ha, playing hard to get, are we?"
Emma, however, felt satisfied. This was just the beginning. She was determined to break off this ridiculous engagement between them.
After ending the call with that jerk, she called home and heard her mother's familiar, worried voice. She almost cried.
In her past life, her villa had caught fire while she was in prison.
When she was finally released, all that was left was a lonely tombstone.
Everyone said her mother had committed suicide by setting the fire, and she had naively believed it.
She never realized her mother had actually been murdered by Second Uncle's family.
Emma held back her tears and said softly, "Mom, I'm fine. I just miss you and want to come home."
Her mother, thinking her beloved daughter had been bullied, immediately replied, "Okay, okay, I'll come pick you up. Where are you? I'll be there soon."
Emma gave her the address.
Her phone, which had been submerged in water earlier, completely died when she hung up the call.
In order to find a good meeting point for her mom, Emma stood up and limped forward.
But after only a few steps, she heard a muffled groan coming from the small grove beside her.
There was also a strong smell of blood in the air.
In her previous life, she had suffered too much, especially during the years she was bullied in prison.
She had changed from a helpless young lady into someone who could knock a person down with a single punch.
She had lived in constant unrest, and even her senses had become unusually sharp.
Hearing this noise now, Emma hesitated.
She wasn't the kind of person who liked meddling in other people's business.
But in the middle of her hesitation, a memory suddenly surfaced.
She remembered something she had seen on the news in her previous life.
On this very day, the Johnson Family's Sixth Master, Elijah, had been assassinated but they failed. He escaped but lost consciousness from excessive blood loss.
He was later rescued, but the follow-up news was blocked by the Johnson Family.
If she remembered correctly… wasn't this the location?
Could it be that the person in the grove was really Elijah himself?
Speaking of the Johnson Family, everyone in the city knew about them!
A century-old prestigious family with deep roots and enormous influence, people trembled at their name.
And Elijah was the backbone of the Johnson Family. He was the youngest son of the family's patriarch, a natural talent with sharp methods.
He single-handedly supported the family and was a legendary figure who dominated the business world!
Emma thought for a moment, then without hesitation, limped into the forest.
She had her own plan.
If she could really impress the Sixth Master of the Johnson Family, then in the future, if she needed help, it would be easier to ask for it.
After walking for a while, Emma didn't see anyone, but she did find a large patch of fresh blood under a big tree.
Clearly, the person was badly injured.
Emma squatted down and touched the blood. It was still wet, which meant the person couldn't have gone far.
Just as she was about to stand and continue searching, she suddenly felt a gust of wind behind her!
Emma's instincts screamed danger. She was about to dodge, but at the last second she changed her mind.
Instead, she immediately raised her hands in surrender and shouted, "Stop! I'm not a bad person!"
The attack never landed.
Emma let out a breath of relief and slowly turned around.
As she looked up, she saw a face so handsome it seemed almost unreal.
It was a perfect face, with sharp features and breathtaking beauty.
Even though he was seriously injured, the man's noble and commanding aura was still overwhelming, like a lone wolf, scarred yet unyielding, brave and unmatched in battle.
Was this the Sixth Master of the Johnson Family?
"You're so young," Elijah said, his gaze sharp and piercing.
His deep black eyes seemed to scrutinize Emma, as if they could see straight through her.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice oppressive and domineering.
Emma blinked innocently, her bright eyes shining. "I heard some noise and came to check what was going on. Are you okay? My family will be here soon to pick me up. Do you want me to take you to the hospital?"
She tried to show her good intentions, hoping to leave a good impression on him, and maybe even earn his protection in the future.
But Elijah's face remained cold, his lips barely moving as he said just one word:
"Leave."
Emma almost snapped back, but she bit her tongue and turned to go.
Just as she walked a few steps, she heard a heavy thud behind her.
She spun around and saw Elijah collapsed on the ground, unconscious, blood spilling from a wound in his abdomen.
Emma rolled her eyes but hurried over. Muttering to herself, she crouched down to check his injury.
Since no one was around in the grove, she tore off her undershirt and pressed it against the wound to stop the bleeding.
To get back at him, she even tied the bandage into a neat, pretty bow.
"Well, not bad, not bad," Emma said proudly, clapping her hands as she walked out of the grove.
Not long after she left, the Johnson Family's grand motorcade rushed in.
Dozens of black-clad bodyguards stormed the grove, searching until they found Elijah.
A few minutes later, Elijah was carried into the car.
As the car sped away, he opened his eyes briefly.
When he lowered his head, he noticed the bright butterfly knot tied neatly at his waist.
Elijah's eyes twitched fiercely.
Who did this?
In his mind, the image of a delicate and beautiful little girl appeared, the one in the grove, with those cunning, lively eyes.
To make things worse, when the man treating his wound untied the bow, he suddenly exclaimed, "Eh? Isn't this a camisole? A girl's camisole?"
Oliver then looked at Elijah with a teasing, knowing smile.
Everyone knew that the Sixth Master of the Johnson Family wasn't interested in women.
So many women had tried to throw themselves at him, but at best they only got one word from him: "Get lost."
But this time, injured and vulnerable, he had actually been taken teased by a girl?
Feeling Oliver's playful and probing gaze, Elijah closed his eyes and said coldly, "If you're not going to treat my wound, you might as well let me die."
"With me here, that's impossible," Oliver replied.
It wasn't arrogance... it was simply the truth.
Oliver was Elijah's most trusted friend, and the youngest head of the Patterson Family, a family of doctors for generations.
Despite his youth, his medical skills were unrivaled. A few years ago, he had even saved Elijah from the brink of death with his miraculous hands.
Compared to that, this injury was nothing.
Elijah shut his eyes again, but the delicate, pretty face flashed across his mind once more.
He let out a quiet snort.
"Mischievous girl."