Ivan said, carefully recounting all the information he’d found out.
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He ran his tongue over his bottom lip before he carefully asked his next question, “Mr. Sullivan, you don’t think this was an accident, do you?”
Victor stayed silent. He narrowed his eyes as his expression darkened.
He didn’t look up from Rachel’s passive face. He kept his gaze carefully trained on her ashen features, reliving the feeling of her slowly losing consciousness in his arms.
He remembered what the wound on her forehead had looked like before it was patched up; deep, gaping and seeping blood down her face and into her hair. She’d been pale from both pain and shock.
As they’d rolled away from the truck, Victor had heard her mutter,
“It hurts…”
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Her blood was striking against his white shirt. Almost accusing in a way.
When he realized she was going to faint, he had gripped her face in his hands to force her to look at him, Panic had nearly choked him as he watched the light slowly leaving her eyes.
He was so terrified that she would never wake up again if she dropped into unconsciousness.
“Rachel, stay awake. I swear, if you don’t, I’LL send your damn maid to Crown Club immediately. Do you hear me?” He gripped at her hand, trying to impress his will onto her. He held her tightly, hoping the pressure would help to keep her awake. The force of his grip was so great that her delicate white skin immediately began to go red and bruise.
Rachel tried her hardest to stay awake. Her eyes kept fluttering and she looked like she wanted to speak…
But in the end she lost to the darkness of unconsciousness.
Now, sitting in this hospital ward looking down at her prone from,
Victor felt uncontrollable feelings for her. What scared him most was the fact that they were growing.
“Victor said “Ivan, send someone to keep an eye on that driver, sternly, a slight frown playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Yes, sir,” Ivan replied. As he dipped his head obediently, he glanced down at the wound on Victor’s hand.
“Mr. Sullivan,” he said worriedly, “you’re hurt. Let me get the nurse for you.”
Victor looked at the broken skin on the back of his hand and said nothing. But he didn’t refuse either.
He just fixed his cold eyes back on Rachel’s impassive face.
Back at the Sullivan family’s house, in the living room up on the second floor, Maria was busy treating herself.
She was sitting comfortably on one of the sofas while a beautician gave her a delicate manicure.
There was a knock at the door. It was Mary. She stepped into the room, followed by a man. The man was dressed all in black, with a cap on his head that was low enough to cover his eyes.
Maria looked up when the man entered. She pulled her hand away from the beautician and sat up straight.
“You may leave now,” she said to the beautician.
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