CHAPTER 122: CHAPTER 122: DON’T BE AFRAID, BABY, YOUR HUSBAND IS HERE

Mr. West was almost defenseless from her kiss. He changed his strategy and picked up the burning hot woman in his arms, walking to the backyard of the room, to the natural hot spring.

He submerged her entirely into the warm spring water.

As soon as she touched the water, Stella Grant struggled violently, splashing water everywhere, like a dying person grasping the last piece of driftwood.

She feared water, a deep-rooted terror.

Mr. West, caught off guard, was pulled in by her and fell into the spring.

Water droplets splattered onto his golden mask, reflecting dazzling points of light.

He reacted quickly, his powerful arm tightly encircling her waist to prevent her from sinking.

Wrapped in warm water and firmly held by him, Stella Grant slowly opened her eyes.

In the misty vapor, her gaze seemed clear for a moment.

She saw the masked man before her, unfamiliar and dangerous.

"Don’t come near!" She pushed him away with all her strength.

Then, she suddenly submerged her entire head in the water, forcing herself to wake up.

"Stella!" He was shocked and quickly reached out to retrieve her.

She was pulled up from the water, leaning on his shoulder, coughing and then bursting into tears.

The crying was heart-wrenching.

Her mouth was murmurably shouting "Don’t come near," yet her body instinctively leaned closer to him, craving the slight coolness and support he provided.

Two extreme emotions tugged within her, almost bringing her to the brink of collapse.

He gently patted her back, whispering constantly in her ear: "Don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you, don’t be afraid."

His voice seemed to carry a certain magic.

He cupped her face in his hands and proactively kissed her lips. This kiss was fiery and dominant, carrying an undeniable possession.

He wanted to become her antidote himself; if this dragged on, she would really be doomed and burst to death.

Along with the escalating kiss, the spring water turned boiling.

He lifted her up, turning her over, her back resting against the smooth stone edge of the spring.

And she, straddled him.

An above-dominant, yet entirely controlled posture.

The spring water rose past his waist and abdomen, his drenched clothes outlined his beautiful muscle lines, full of oppressive strength.

Just as he kissed her, making her dizzy and about to lose complete control.

Stella Grant suddenly used all her strength to cling tightly to his head, her face buried in his neck, crying.

Not the previous loud sobbing, but suppressed, desperate sobs.

Her body trembled violently.

Struggling to squeeze a few broken words from her throat: "No... don’t touch me... I’m begging you..."

She was fighting a desperate battle with the remaining rationality against the destructive drug effects.

He stopped his actions, a corner of his heart fiercely pierced with pain.

He gently kissed away the tears on her cheeks, using unprecedented tenderness to soothe her: "Don’t be afraid, baby, I’m here..."

At that moment, he just wanted to take away all her defenses and burdens from her heart.

Telling her that the one holding her now isn’t some terrifying stranger.

It’s him... Aiden Fordham!

She heard the word "husband," her body noticeably stiffened for an instant.

But the drug-induced daze prevented her from thinking clearly; she seemed to hear but also seemed not to comprehend.

Just kept shaking her head, tears streaming endlessly, "No..."

She was in extreme pain, tears like broken beads, rolling down and scorching his skin.

At this moment, Aiden Fordham was torn internally, hesitated.

If he possessed her today, as Mr. West.

Then, once she sobered up, there would inevitably be deadly hatred between them, without any room for reconciliation.

Yet if he did it as Aiden Fordham... once she awoke, perhaps she would never forgive him for such opportunism.

Then he would completely lose her.

Eternal damnation.

Eventually, he compassionately kissed her continually falling tears.

Then carefully picked her up from the hot spring, wrapped her in a large bath towel, and carried her into the room.

He made a phone call to urge the antidote, his tone agitated.

Shortly, the sound of knocking came from outside, delivering a vial of emerald green medicinal oil.

He quickly opened the bottle cap, gently waved the oil under her nose, and then applied some behind her ears and on her palms, rubbing softly.

A fresh medicinal aroma seeped into her nostrils, her rapid breathing gradually calmed down, her tense body slowly relaxing.

Not long after, she fell into a peaceful sleep.

He carefully took off her soaked clothes and fetched a clean, soft silk robe to put on for her.

Then, suppressing the agitation in his body, he gently hugged her, letting her rest on the crook of his arm.

He just held her like that, quietly watching over her.

She had long since become his whole world!

And he, unknowingly, was sinking deeper and deeper.

It’s time to end everything here, he’s going to take her back to Meritopia and make her his wife once again!

...

In a homestay room not far from the airport, the air was filled with the smell of blood and medicine.

Cindy Chandler held her breath, the tip of the tweezers steadily grasping the bullet lodged in Andy Lockwood’s arm muscle.

"Hiss..." Andy Lockwood sharply inhaled, veins bulging on his forehead, sweat beads rolling down.

But he bit his lips tightly, not making any sound.

His mind was full of the images of Stella being taken away by that bastard Mr. West, what would happen to her under the drug’s influence?

The jealousy almost drove him insane! Just a bit more... he could have taken her away.

"Done." Cindy Chandler said softly, dropping the bloodstained bullet into a tray with a crisp clink.

She lowered her head, carefully bandaging him with gentle movements.

Suddenly, a large hand like an iron clamp gripped her throat!

Andy Lockwood’s eyes burned with two terrifying flames, his voice icy cold: "Ylang-ylang scent, was it you who released it?"

Cindy Chandler trembled all over, suddenly struggling to breathe.

"I... I just wanted to help you, senior brother..." she struggled to explain, eyes full of terror.

"Help me?" Andy Lockwood’s mouth curled into a cruel arc, his hand tightening a few more degrees, "Was it you who unlocked the car as well?"

His gaze was sharper than a knife, as if he wanted to execute her.

Cindy Chandler’s face turned bright red, almost suffocating. She gave up struggling and instead met his violent gaze and said word by word: "Yes."

"If she... doesn’t leave, you... will surely die!"

This time, Carlos Fenton was not here, no one would save her again.

It’s fine.

Cindy Chandler’s lips gradually turned blue and purple, tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, having followed him like a tail for so many years, loving him humbly into the dust.

Finally, she could be relieved! She could... stop loving.

Just when she thought she was about to suffocate, the force on her neck abruptly loosened.

Andy Lockwood fiercely threw her onto the nearby bed.

"Tear—"

The sound of fabric splitting.

Before Cindy Chandler could react, Andy Lockwood’s tall figure had pressed down.

...

Meanwhile, in the center of the East Sector of Mardale. A terrifying boom sounded, flames soared into the sky!

The once-famed Red House, in an instant, turned into scorched earth.

From then on, Mardale would no longer have The Red House.

Zane Zimmerman’s tall figure emerged from the smoke-dense ruins, emanating a suffocating hostility.

In his hand, he dragged an old man as weak as a dying dog.

"Thud," he tossed the old man on the ground.

His sharp gaze swept over the dozens of black-clad bodyguards before him, oozing with murderous intent.

"Search for me!" Zane Zimmerman’s voice was like it was forged with ice, "Even if you have to upend the entire Mardale, find that person for me!"

"Yes!" After an earth-shattering chorus, the black-clad crowd quickly dispersed, surging towards every corner like a tide.

At this time, a boy with noticeable red hair timidly approached Zane Zimmerman.

He raised his little face, gathered up his courage, and said, "Can... can you let him go? I’ll take you to find that lady."

Zane Zimmerman lowered his gaze, his sharp look falling on the boy, tinged with scrutiny.

And at this time, Vivi Sterling, locked in a metal cage, was tossed around feeling like she was about to fall apart.

Finally, she was carried into a huge warehouse, surrounded by piles of chaotic goods, the air smelling moldy.

Not far away were a few shabby sofas, with a particularly large TV in the middle.

What kind of hell is this place?

Before she could figure it out, the warehouse door was pushed open with a creak.

A bald man walked in.

When Vivi Sterling recognized his face, she gasped in fright, shrinking into a corner of the cage.

The bald man’s half face looked as if it had been burned by fire, skin shriveled into a horrifying dark red, forming a stark contrast with the normal side, making him hideously unsettling.

He carried a baseball bat on his shoulder, followed by a dozen men with an unruly air, all looking disreputable, wearing scruffy clothes, clearly low-life thugs.

Just as the bald man was about to speak, a lackey rolled and crawled in, panting heavily:

"Winston... Winston! This is bad!"

"The Red House... The Red House was burned down! Old Wu... Old Wu was also caught by Zane Zimmerman’s people!"

"What did you say?!" The bald man, called "Winston," immediately had his one intact eye filled with blood, his expression growing more twisted.

Winston Strickland flared up in anger, suddenly turned, grabbed a sturdy iron bar beside him, and rushed to Vivi Sterling’s cage, fiercely smashed it down!

"Boom—!" A deafening crash, the cage shook violently.

Vivi Sterling was scared out of her wits, screaming, shrinking into the innermost part of the cage, trembling, not daring to breathe.

"Damn it!"

Winston Strickland raged even further, circling to the other side, ferociously sending the cage another sequence of blows.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Vivi Sterling could only fearfully dodge left and right in the cage following his movements, worried that the next second the iron bar would hit her.

This man... this man is simply a lunatic! A pervert!

She regretted so much now, wondering why she shook off Zane Zimmerman’s bodyguards back then? Foolish!

Would Zane Zimmerman come to save her?

But... they hadn’t even gone to bed, what did she count for him, really?

No leverage whatsoever, a bone-chilling despair instantly grasped her heart.

Winston Strickland, exhausted from his smashing, casually tossed the iron bar, with a clang.

He plopped himself down on a shabby sofa not far away, breathing heavily, tilting his chin to a lackey beside him.

"Move that thing over here!"

Two lackeys hastily pushed the huge TV to the cage front.

Winston Strickland grinned, revealing a twisted smile, one half a good face, half ghostly, making Vivi Sterling’s scalp crawl.

"Little girl, weren’t you looking for Tyson Sterling? After all these years, he should come out and see people!"

The TV screen flickered and lit up.

In the image appeared a man, with dagger brows and eyes like stars, commanding presence, exactly the brother Vivi Sterling longed for—Tyson Sterling!

"Brother!"

Vivi Sterling’s eyes widened, almost unable to believe, she was so moved her eyes reddened!

Stella, where are you? I see my brother!