My Love My Hatred (Jennie and Lance) novel Chapter 142

My Love My Hatred Chapter 142

“If you think I will lie to you, you can get your own blood and hair to be tested with Lexi‘s.” 

To be honest, I would be lying if | said I have no feelings at all for that little girl, I have no pictures of myself when! was the same age as her so I had no idea if she looks like me or not. 

But she does look like me if I look closer. The timing was right too and she looks like Lance Mason. I have seen Lexi‘s medical record and there was her birth date and her blood type is RH blood, just like me and Lance. I couldn‘t deny straightaway that she isn‘t mine. 

But the reason why I wanted to do a blood test was because I wanted evidence. An evidence that could force 

me to face my reality, to slap me awake. 

I haven‘t logged in to my Facebook after all of the things that happened 

with Lance Mason. 

I inserted my password and called Javier. Javier picked up and I was relieved to his voice knowing that he was safe. I quickly hung up without 

speaking any words to him because I was afraid that I would cry like a baby if I did. 

Thanded the phone to Lance and he asked me, “Why didn‘t you speak?” 

“I heard his voice and I know he is safe, that‘s enough.” I answered. 

“That‘s enough?” he asked, seeming like he couldn‘t believe what I just said. 

“Why? Do you want me to tell him that I am miserable here and ask him to come take me away from here?” I said 

sarcastically 

Lance knitted his eyebrows together and put his phone back to his pocket. 

I walked to the front door and the guards were quick to block my way. Lance Mason was afraid that I would run away so he had guards at every door in this mansion. 

“Let me out, Lance Mason, I want to get some fresh air. I won‘t run away.” 

My face turned red in a matter of seconds. Luckily, he wasn‘t looking at me otherwise he would have embarrassed me, again. 

“Let your guard move so that I can go out for a bit, I won‘t run away.” 

Lance didn‘t answer, did he mean that I couldn‘t even go out of the front door?” 

Just when I was about to throw a fit, he spoke, “I don‘t know how to draw shoes, help me draw one.” 

Looking at his drawing I knew that he just started to draw not long ago. It was a good drawing if the person who 

looks at it doesn‘t know anything about drawing. But for me, someone who knows art, this is a bad drawing. He asked me to help him draw shoes but I wanted to help him modify the whole. 

“I will let you out after you finish 

this.” 

He stood up and let me sit down.