Try Begging - Chapter 133.1

hello! this book is still being done by the same translator and editor from before! the newer chapters will be halved so it's uniform with the other chapters in the site (but with the original numbering). thank you for your cooperation!

The station attendant opened the door to a compartment with the number one prominently displayed and extended his hand politely. As Grace was seated down with the courtesy of a lady, the attendant placed the envelope on the seat next to her.

“Thank you.”

“I’m happier to be able to help.”

The man tipped his hat slightly as he greeted her.

“I wish you a Christmas filled with happiness and love.”

Has a holiday greeting ever sounded so hollow? Her Christmas was already stained by sadness and betrayal. She forced herself to smile, lifting the corners of her mouth as the compartment door closed.

“Ha…”

Immediately, a long sigh filled the six-seater compartment, simple but elegantly decorated.

Grace had felt a persistent tugging in her stomach on her way to the train station and rubbed her stomach.

‘Is this child also struggling?’

The movements were frequent.

She took off her shoes and sat down, leaning against the wall by the corridor before she stretched out her legs on the long seat. Sitting in a soft spot gave her physical comfort, but her mind remained restless.

She breathed deeply, looking at the bustling platform with unfocused eyes. She was struggling to compose her emotions but failed as her shoulder occasionally trembled.

It was hard to believe that the person she had grown up with, almost like a brother, could become so callously indifferent.

Suddenly, she felt another movement.

As she sighed deeply and stroked her belly, tears that had caught in the threads of her dark sweater wet her hand.

Grace let out a laugh unknowingly—a laugh that sounded like a sigh.

Should she be thankful for this unwelcome child? Without it, she might have never seen his true colors. She wanted to blame Winston, the cause of all these betrayals, but she couldn’t. Regardless of his influence, it was Jimmy who decided to abandon her.

Her intuition had always whispered that there was more behind Jimmy’s decision to leave her than personal feelings.

The Blanchard revolutionaries never abandon a comrade in captivity.

Grace had believed in that promise and fearlessly joined dangerous missions. Yet, the promise kept for others was broken for her from the start.

“How many times I’ve said it, he never came to save you.”

“Your fiance ordered you to commit suicide.”

In the end, among the numerous lies Winston had told, these two were truths.

She found herself wanting to know if the rest were true as well. Was it really because of the truths in his words that he abandoned her? Rather than living with unresolved doubts, she was ready to face whatever hell might lie at the end.

[ But the thought of you returning only to be exploited again… ]

Used, always about being used…

Grace looked down at the destination on her train ticket and bit her lips with determination. At the end of this long journey, she would meet someone she was willing to tell everything bare.

The thought of escaping from Winston had somehow receded into the background.

She chuckled emptily as a middle-aged woman who had passed by the window came back and opened the compartment door. It was someone who had been in line behind her at the ticket office.

The woman nodded a greeting and sat opposite her.

Grace acknowledged her lightly and then turned her gaze outside the window. She was pretending to look out the window while observing the woman. She had a comforting yet distinctly authoritative aura, like Mrs. Appleby. Her attire was so modest and simple that it would be hard to describe if she were to recall it later.

Whiiick.

A sharp whistle cut across the long platform, followed by the conductor’s announcement that this train bound to hell was about to depart, urging passengers to board quickly.

The crowded platform cleared out in moments, and the sound of doors closing in other compartments echoed in succession. While others might hear it as the start of holiday celebrations, like a firecracker, for Grace, it sounded like the opening shots of a war.

Soon, the train began to move with a long honk, leaving behind the waving attendants, and the gray platform quickly moved away. Forests of skyscrapers flashed by rapidly before giving way to lower buildings, industrial areas, and then barren fields.

Finally leaving the detestable city behind, she still didn’t feel free from Winston’s grasp.