He Traded My Trauma for Her Redemption - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

“Cordelia,” Jayden said, “since we got married, have I ever done anything to betray you? You know exactly what kind of relationship I have with Ivy—she’s the only family I have left in this world. These past few years, I even cut off contact with her just so you wouldn’t overthink things.”
His tone hardened, defensiveness creeping in. “Now she’s in trouble. If I turn my back on her, do you really think I’ll be able to live with myself for the rest of my life?”
“If you’re trying to threaten me with whether or not I love you,” he continued with a sigh, “then go ahead. Be my guest.”
In the rearview mirror, his chiseled jawline blurred. I had once kissed those soft, handsome lips.
But now, every word he spoke was like a blade of ice.
I said nothing more, afraid that even a single sound would mean surrender.
The car drove on endlessly.
It wasn’t until the blood at the nape of my neck had nearly dried that we finally came to a stop in front of a sprawling estate. In the darkness, the towering villa loomed like a giant beast slumbering in the night.
I vaguely remembered seeing this place in an article from a political magazine.
It was said to belong to that mysterious family called the Dickensons.
It was a clan that thrived in both the underworld and legitimate business, a name feared by both military and corporate elites.
Only at that moment did true fear begin to rise within me.
Jayden walked away.
From a distance, footsteps gradually approached. I shut my eyes in panic and pretended to be unconscious.
Someone untied the ropes from my wrists and ankles.
When they noticed the wound at the back of my head, their movements paused briefly.
Then, as if nothing had happened, they picked me up. The sudden shift in gravity startled me into opening my eyes.
The first thing I saw was a stunning face, delicate as a blossom.
But the long, hideous scar stretching from the nape of his neck down to his collarbone made my entire body freeze.
His breath, warm against my skin, carried a hint of amusement.
“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” he teased.
I blinked, unsure if I should respond.
As if my lips had its own brain, I blurted out, “Little Lord?”
He sounded pleased and even gave me a playful bounce in his arms—like he was holding a kitten.
His lips curled into a lazy smirk. “Guess you’re not completely out of it after all.”
I stared at the man before me, watching the matured features of his face gradually merge with the face from my memories.
Back then, I had no idea who I really was—just an ordinary girl.
The day my mother died in a car crash, I lost my home for good.
I lived in fear in a rundown apartment on a chaotic street, always on edge.
At night, strangers would knock on my door for no reason at all.
Until the day the infamous local “mad dog” showed up at my place.
I gave him half a bag of bread.
After that, everyone knew—he was terrifying to everyone but me.
To protect me, he nearly lost his life to that long scar on his neck.
It wasn’t until my body landed on the softness of a luxurious bed that I snapped out of my memories.
“You’re a Dickenson?” I asked.
“Mm.”
His hand brushed faintly over the butterfly bones of my back, disappearing before I could even process the shift in balance.
I looked around at the understated yet lavish decor, gathering my thoughts.
“Ivy Squire… Is she who you’re looking for?” I asked finally.
He let out what sounded like a scoff, then casually reached out to smooth the small wrinkles at the hem of my skirt.
“Of course not,” he said with a smirk. “Who the hell is she even? Just some shrieking distraction.”
His eyes met mine. “I’m here for you, Cordelia.”
His slender fingers played lightly with the fabric, almost like a flirtatious overture.
I quickly turned my gaze away, heart racing, cheeks burning.
“Why go through so much just to find me?” I asked.
“Isn’t it perfect?” he replied casually. “Now you can see for yourself—that bastard husband of yours never deserved you.”
I was at a loss for words.
And yet, somewhere deep down, I was frightened all over again.
Mervyn was still the same man who did the most terrifying things with the most nonchalant expression.
The only difference was… now, he held overwhelming power in his hands.