Chapter 106 Humiliate Her in a Cruel Way
Isabella's gaze locked onto Ambrose. He was covered in blood—two shards of glass protruded from his chest, crimson pooling beneath him on the pavement. He looked utterly lifeless.
She crawled toward him, the prayer repeating endlessly in her mind. 'Don't die, Ambrose... please don't die!'
She would give up every remaining day of her life to keep him alive. Every single one.
William watched tears stream down her face, watched her eyes fixed solely on Ambrose—not even glancing his way.
His jaw clenched, rage flooding through him like poison.
"Isabella," he said quietly, "you never cease to amaze me."
Less than thirty feet separated them. Isabella dragged herself forward while William stood motionless, coldly observing just how far her determination would take her.
It was such a short distance, yet it took her five whole minutes to reach him.
She knelt there gasping, clutching at the hem of his pants.
"I wasn't running." Isabella looked up at him, eyes pleading. "William, I never wanted to leave you. This is all a misunderstanding. Please—let Mr. Mellon go."
Of course William knew she hadn't been running. If she'd truly fled with them, his bullet would have found her skull first.
"Do you even know what they did?"
They?
Isabella froze.
William's smile held no warmth whatsoever. "Apparently you don't. This whole thing—Ambrose and Thomas planned it together. They were going to smuggle you out of the country."
Thomas was involved too?
Isabella shook her head weakly. "There must be some mistake. Please, just let Mr. Mellon go. He's badly hurt—I think he's dying."
William's smile turned glacial, the kind that made your blood run cold.
No one had ever dared scheme against him like this. Even if these two survived, he'd make them wish they hadn't.
"Interesting. Last time you ran him over with a car. Now suddenly you can't bear to see him die?"
Isabella finally understood—William was truly furious.
The more he saw her care about Ambrose, the less mercy he'd show. He wanted to watch her suffer, watch her squirm. The more concern she displayed, the worse Ambrose's fate would be.
The worry in Isabella's eyes hardened into hatred. "He drugged me. Dragged me away against my will. I'd be thrilled if he died—then he'd stop disrupting my life."
She looked up at William, her tone turning placating. "I would never leave you. I'd rather die than divorce you. For the rest of my life, I'll only ever be your woman."
The fury on William's face ebbed slightly. He leaned down, gripping her chin. "Good. You understand. Now get in the car."
Isabella nodded, trembling. As long as she left with him, Ambrose might have a chance at survival.
William climbed in first. Isabella watched the bodyguards dump Ambrose on the roadside like garbage. She fought to keep her tears from falling, struggled to pull her weakened body into the vehicle—but she had no strength left. After several failed attempts, she still couldn't stand.
William reached out impatiently and yanked her inside. He didn't seem to care about the mud covering her, pulling her directly against him.
Feeling her body shake, he stroked her face.
"You seem upset. Worried about him?"
Isabella shook her head. "I'm not worried about him."
William leaned close to her ear, his demand obscene. "Then prove it to me."
Before Isabella could process his words, he continued softly, "Fuck me. Right now."
Her eyes went wide with horror. William leaned back casually, arms spread across the seat.
"You know how long I can last. We leave when I'm finished. Every minute we delay brings him closer to death. Better make it quick."
How could she possibly do this—here, now, with Ambrose dying just yards away?
She couldn't. This was worse than killing her.
Was this William's revenge? Humiliating her in the cruelest way imaginable?
"He's dying. You'd better hurry."
Isabella's whole body shook. "Can we go home? Please. Here it's... it's not—"
Once they were home, he could do whatever he wanted. But not here. Not now.
William had no intention of showing mercy. When had he ever considered her feelings?
"If you won't, then we'll wait right here. Wait for Ambrose's blood to run dry. Or until his corpse starts to rot."
Isabella shook her head frantically. She couldn't let Ambrose die.
She grabbed William's collar, slowly moving closer. After a moment's hesitation, she kissed him.
Her first time initiating a kiss—and it was to save another man.
Something heavy settled in William's chest, his irritation intensifying.
During the entire chase, he'd felt genuine panic. Even fear.
Fear that Isabella would actually cross that border and disappear forever.
He pulled her neck closer, deepening the kiss.
No one would take this woman from him. No one.
Just like she'd said—even in death, she belonged at his side.
Dylan gestured, leading the bodyguards into the nearby trees to wait.
William tore open her shirt, biting down hard on her shoulder. Isabella winced at the pain, her trembling fingers working at his belt.
Her hands were too weak, shaking too badly. William gripped her waist and flipped her beneath him in one motion, quickly undoing his belt. He yanked down her pants roughly, lifted her cold hips, and shoved his rigid heat inside.
Isabella's body was dry. The pain made her arch backward.
William gave her no time to adjust. He forced his way in brutally until her sex finally grew wet, then he increased his pace, fucking her harder.
Isabella endured his merciless assault, her weakened body swaying precariously, as if it might shatter at any moment.
The car rocked violently. Isabella felt the world spinning.
Darkness crept into her vision. Her breathing grew shallow. She fought to keep her eyes open, to last until the end—but she couldn't.
So dizzy. So tired...
A trickle of blood escaped the corner of her mouth.
The man above her stopped abruptly, slapping her face.
"Isabella?" William pulled out immediately, covering her with clothing. "What's wrong?"
A ringing filled Isabella's ears. She couldn't make out his words.
William dressed hastily, shouting out the window. "Get us back now!"
Dylan and his men came running. The driver gunned the engine. Through half-closed eyes, Isabella thought she heard sirens—was someone coming for Ambrose?
He'd be all right, wouldn't he?
Isabella's breathing slowed. Her vision went black. She lost consciousness.
When she woke again, she was in that familiar hospital room. The nurse saw her stirring and before she could speak, Isabella threw back the covers to get up. Her body was too weak—she pitched forward toward the floor.
The nurse caught her just in time, preventing what could have been a devastating fall.
"Ms. Tudor, you just woke up. Please don't move so suddenly."
"How long was I out?"
"Two days."
Two days? What about Ambrose—had someone saved him?