Chapter 1502:
Lifting her eyes, Carola turned on Wesley with urgency.
“Tell me, what happened here? How could Lyla’s hand be shattered like this?”
A thought clawed inside her, but she could not force the words out. She dared not ask if it was Wesley’s doing, for she dreaded the confirmation. Tonight should have been a chance for Wesley and Lyla to draw closer—how had it twisted into this calamity?
Carola didn’t dare to ask, but Wesley dared to speak. His eyes glittered with merciless frost as he pronounced each syllable with lethal clarity.
“If there’s ever a repeat of this, it won’t stop with her hand.”
The implication was brutal—he’d break her neck.
Carola’s chest constricted at the venom she glimpsed in his gaze.
Without hesitation, Wesley reached for Elena’s hand.
“Let’s go home.”
At that moment, the doctor rushed in, breathless.
Carola’s mind spun in chaos, torn between replaying Wesley’s chilling words and the sight of Lyla’s anguish. She yearned to chase after him, to defend herself, but Lyla’s sobs dragged her back into the room, binding her to Lyla’s side.
“Doctor,” Carola asked, “tell me—can Lyla’s hand be reattached?”
The doctor examined the mangled limb, his tone grave.
“Miss Stanley’s injury is serious. Immediate surgery at the hospital will be required.”
Lyla’s wails echoed through the chamber.
“It hurts—it hurts so much!”
Carola’s heart fractured at the sound, and she barked toward the butler, “Summon a car! We’re leaving for the hospital this instant.”
The family dinner disintegrated into ruin, its harmony shattered completely.
𝖁𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊: gⱥ𝗅ⲛ𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀⸳𝖈𝗼𝗺
When Wesley departed from the estate, not a word left his lips. He carried Elena back to Hillside Manor with a storm behind his eyes.
The moment they arrived, he disappeared into the bathroom.
Water thundered against porcelain, the sound filling the air as Wesley stood with an austere expression, scrubbing away the tainted scent that clung to him.
Ten minutes passed before he emerged, cloaked in a robe, droplets still clinging to his hair. Crossing the room, he seized Elena into his arms, his nose burying against the curve of her neck, drawing in her fragrance like salvation.
“Darling,” he murmured, voice husky, “I’m clean now.”
Elena eased his hands away, creating space between them.
“Did she drug you?”
His damp hair hung low over his forehead, brushing against her skin like an untamed creature nuzzling her neck, the water dripping onto her collarbone.
“You’re sharp,” he said, a low chuckle in his throat.
“You sensed it from the scent alone.” His tone dropped darker, more insistent.
“I didn’t let any other woman touch me tonight. How do you intend to reward me for that?”
Elena raised an eyebrow and murmured, “What kind of reward are you thinking?”
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