CHAPTER 97: CHAPTER 97: DO YOU THINK I’M A PERVERT?

After reading the text message, Renee Winslow’s face turned pale, her eyes immediately welling up with tears as she shrank back in fear.

She was terrified of what Jack Yates might do to her. Just the thought of those days being locked up made her feel like she was plunged into an ice cellar, coldness seeping through her entire body.

Jack Yates laughed angrily, his large hand gripping her slender arm, and with a sudden force, yanked her forward: "What are you hiding from?"

His voice carried a laugh, but his eyes were cold.

Renee Winslow tightly shut her eyes, tears falling down in large drops.

"No, don’t lock me up again." She shrunk her shoulders, curling into a tiny ball, her damp eyelashes trembling, even her voice quivered, "And don’t do that again, it hurts a lot, I’m very scared."

Seeing her in such a frightened state, Jack Yates felt a sting in his heart.

He raised his hand to stroke her head, but as soon as his fingertip touched her hair, the girl started shaking even more violently.

Renee Winslow was genuinely terrified of Jack Yates now. If her fear before was thirty percent real and seventy percent feigned, it was now complete.

Jack Yates wrapped an arm around her waist, hugging her to his chest, his large hand gently stroking her back. His thin lips pressed to her ear, he softly said, "Don’t be afraid, my little Renee, don’t be afraid."

Renee Winslow’s body went stiff. This nickname was from the time when her relationship with Jack Yates was at its best. Jack had given it to her.

Back then, she was at her peak stage of development, with high body fat, uncontrollably gaining a few pounds.

One night, after they finished, Jack Yates held her in his arms, kneading the soft flesh on her waist, and mischievously gave her the nickname "Little Renee."

But in truth, he didn’t use this nickname often, only during those intimate moments, and occasionally, when in a good mood, he’d jokingly call her once or twice.

But now, it was absolutely impossible for him to be in a good mood.

Hearing the nickname "Little Renee," Renee Winslow trembled all over in fright.

"Don’t be scared." Jack Yates stepped back, cupping her face with one hand, gazing straight into her teary eyes, "Renee, let’s have a serious talk today, okay?"

Renee Winslow looked at his calm demeanor, his untroubled eyes, completely unable to discern what he was really thinking.

"Talk, talk about what?" she asked cautiously.

Jack Yates curled his lips: "Tell your third brother the truth, do you still love Caleb Yates?"

Renee Winslow let out a helpless and hopeless laugh, a bitter smile: "Let me tell you the truth, I never liked Caleb Yates. Back in school, he pursued me unilaterally for almost a year. I didn’t agree, but he kept pestering me, often blocking my way home, or shouting for me outside my dormitory."

"His behavior seriously affected my life. Later on, I had no choice but to accept his pursuit, but I set a condition. I said we could try dating for a while, and if I still couldn’t like him afterward, we’d have to part ways, and he couldn’t pester me anymore. He agreed."

"Then summer break came, and he took me to your house where I met you. At the time, I lied and said I liked Caleb Yates because I was more afraid of you."

Jack Yates squinted his eyes but said nothing.

Renee Winslow dared not meet his gaze, lowering her eyes, her voice even weaker: "At that time, I wasn’t sure if you had feelings for me or not, but I was still very scared, so I said I liked Caleb Yates. I thought if I said that, you’d have some reservations, but..."

She broke off hastily, narrowly avoiding saying another word that might have set Jack Yates off.

However, Jack Yates wasn’t angry. Instead, he chuckled softly: "Then what about now?"

Renee Winslow looked up, blinking in confusion, asking, "What do you mean?"

Jack Yates: "Are you still afraid of me now?"

Actually, what he wanted to ask was "Do you like me now," yet the words were too heavy for him; he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

Renee Winslow pressed her lips tightly: "..."

She wanted to say, isn’t this obvious?

Not just afraid, she’s terrified, but she didn’t dare to say it directly.

Jack Yates picked up her phone again, gazing at her with a half-smile: "Let’s talk about the text message again."

Renee Winslow: "..."

So all the crying just now was in vain.

Jack Yates unlocked her phone, his long fingers tapping on the message content: "Ten years older than you, with a twisted personality, do you also think so, Renee?"