Chapter 3 Confrontation

Dianne pointed the flashlight in my face.

I forced myself to stay calm and lifted my bruised hand. "My hand hurts too much. I can't sleep. I just wanted to get some air on the balcony."

She suddenly laughed, soft and strange. Then, she walked toward me with a glass of water, swaying slightly with each step. "Riley, you're having a fever. Going outdoors will worsen your condition. Here, have some water."

At that moment, she released her grip on the glass.

It shattered on the floor.

"What is it? What happened?"

The noise woke Christopher.

He came out in his wheelchair. When he spotted me at the door, he went pale. "Riley, where are you going?"

I looked at the two of them, still putting on their little act, and something inside me finally snapped.

"Stop pretending, Christopher. Your legs are fine. Dianne isn't sick either. The two of you have been lying to me this whole time, haven't you?"

He froze.

I raised my blistered hands, my voice shaking. "It hurts so much. I just want to go to the hospital and rest for once. Please let me go. Haven't I done enough already?"

A hint of panic flashed across his eyes. He instantly grabbed my wrist, and his fingers pressed onto where it hurt most.

"Let go of me, Christopher! You're hurting me!" I cried in pain and broke into a cold sweat.

However, he tightened his fingers around my wrist instead of releasing me.

"I know you're hurting, Riley, but I swear it's the last time. Let's get married after you pass the test, all right?"

The anxious look on his face should have felt familiar. Instead, it felt terrifying.

Two years ago, he rushed at me and shielded me without a second thought the moment the car accident happened.

His gesture deeply touched me, and I swore to take good care of him for the rest of my life.

Back then, Declan—who had ties to both the underworld and the police overseas—had warned me.

"That accident looked staged. Come home, Riley. I'll cover his medical expenses. I'll support him for life if I have to. Just don't trust him."

I refused to listen to him.

I thought Declan was only saying that because of the kind of world he moved in.

In a rage, he cursed and threatened to leave me to my fate.

Now, it seemed he had seen the truth long before I did.

"No. I don't want to marry you! I don't love you anymore, Christopher. I want to go home and back to Declan…"

I broke into tears and struggled, trying to shake him off.

Fury burned in Christopher's eyes when he heard my words. "This is your home. You don't need to go anywhere. Who do you plan to marry if it's not me?"

Dianne smirked. "Chris, since she already knows everything, why wait? Let's do it tonight."

After a moment of silence, he nodded.

"You're right. No need to drag this on."

Then, he rose from the wheelchair. He covered my mouth and threw me over his shoulder.

I let out a muffled protest.

The dark, wet basement workshop was only two blocks away.

"Forgive me, Riley. I just love you so much."

The streets were empty at three in the morning, and the fever made my head spin.

…

Christopher brought me to the basement and laid me on the workbench. He kissed my forehead. "Don't worry, Riley. I've asked the owner to adjust the temperature to the right setting. You won't get hurt at all."

A sensation of terror coiled around my neck like a snake.

"Just close your eyes, and it'll pass. We'll get married once you wake up." Then, he turned to the workshop owner. "Please be careful not to hurt her."

"Of course, Mr. Turner. You can leave it to me."

…

Then, the door slammed shut.

"Who does he take me for?"

As soon as Christopher was out of sight, the owner clicked his tongue disdainfully and leisurely walked up to me.

He picked up a pair of scissors and flashed them at me, revealing something horrible. "There's no way I'm monitoring the temperature. Miss Emerson paid extra to make sure you don't make it out of this."