"Amelia, are you pleased? Relieved that you're not pregnant? Is that all you desire, to get away from me? Let me tell you this, it's never going to happen, not until I'm dead."
Amelia dared not speak; she felt weak and knew that any show of defiance would be futile. Besides, provoking Oliver was far from a sensible move.
Observing the tense atmosphere, the doctor couldn't help but interject, offering a word of advice. "The patient is currently very weak, and this condition is a warning sign. In terms of marital relations, one must not rush; the patient's physical constitution needs improvement. As a husband, you should pay attention to the patient's diet and daily routine. If you're serious about planning for a pregnancy, it's time to start taking action."
Oliver's anger subsided slightly at being referred to as Amelia's husband, while Amelia's face fell further. The doctor's approach seemed to exacerbate the situation. Planning for a pregnancy?
It was a miracle if Oliver treated her with any gentleness at all, and as for Amelia, she had no desire to bear his child. A child would become the chain that Oliver used to bind her, and she no longer wished to be his secret canary, hidden away in the shadows.
After leaving the hospital, Oliver drove back to the hotel, his demeanor significantly softer than before. It seemed he truly intended to use a child to trap Amelia, ensuring she could never escape and would have to stay by his side.
Finishing his work, Oliver focused on finding renowned doctors in the United States to help regulate Amelia's health, as the doctor had suggested a slow convalescence. He took the advice to heart, handed the matter over to his assistant via phone, and then went to the bedside to admire Amelia's sleeping face.
She was only this docile when she slept, and he wasn't worried about her escaping. Oliver couldn't comprehend why the rose he had nurtured would one day turn its thorns against him.
Feeling the intense gaze upon her, Amelia opened her eyes to meet Oliver's intrusive stare. The assistant knocked and entered at that moment, carrying a glass of water and medicine. Amelia was somewhat resistant to taking the medicine.
Oliver took the glass and said in an irresistible tone, "Do you want me to feed it to you, or will you drink it yourself?"
Amelia had intended to refuse, but Oliver's gaze was too commanding. If she refused, the idea of him feeding her was far from appealing. "I'll drink it myself."
Under Oliver's watchful eye, Amelia tossed back the medicine, the bitter taste spreading through her nasal passages. She frowned deeply, her expression clearly showing the medicine's bitterness.
The assistant, still present, considerately took a candy from his pocket and placed it in Amelia's hand, something Oliver had overlooked. Oliver's gaze towards his assistant was inscrutable, but it was not anger.
"Good job, go to HR and collect your bonus."
Throwing money around was Oliver's simple and direct method for dealing with people and situations. Turning to Amelia, he saw her brows had unfurled.
"Starting today, take your medicine and regulate your health. There's still hope for a pregnancy in the future; don't lose heart."
Amelia found this absurd. Did he really expect her to bear his child? "It's probably for the best if I can't have children. I certainly don't want my child to be born with the stigma of being a bastard. You're already engaged to Chloe; do you really expect me to have your child? Do you think you're an ancient emperor, able to have multiple wives?"
Her cold words were laced with sarcasm. Oliver, unusually, did not get angry. "Chloe and I won't be getting married now. You don't have to worry about getting pregnant; I'll handle these matters. Don't concern yourself with things that don't belong to you."
He didn't deny the marriage, and Amelia, who thought she had built high walls around her heart, immune to such words, still felt like a fool when Oliver shattered her last illusions. She had tested the waters so many times and still held out hope.
Amelia said nothing more, turning her head away, not wanting to continue the conversation. The assistant's voice interrupted at the right moment: "Mr. Oliver, Designer Victor has responded to your appointment. He has agreed to meet at the Peace Hotel this evening."
Designer Victor? Amelia turned around in disbelief. Could it be the internationally renowned designer, Victor Sinclair?
From the affirmative lift of Oliver's lips, Amelia confirmed that it was indeed the person she thought it was. "Rest well, and tonight I'll take you to meet him. You like design, so it's a perfect opportunity to learn from a master in the field; it will be beneficial for you."
Amelia chose to forget the unpleasant conversation and indulged in her joy. But she truly couldn't fathom Oliver's heart; he imprisoned her yet occasionally offered her some sweeteners, a slap followed by a sugar cube, a feeling she did not like.
After a good afternoon nap, Amelia's pain had subsided significantly, and she could move about normally, maintaining a calm demeanor even when her wounds twinged.
The assistant acted as the driver, with Oliver and Amelia in the back seat. The car's interior was spacious, yet Amelia deliberately kept her distance. Oliver, not one to tolerate such behavior, pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist.
"It's not the first time, and yet you're still so shy. Remember the terms of the agreement; you must unconditionally comply with all my demands, including physical contact."
Again, his tone was irresistible. Amelia rolled her eyes inwardly but spoke with flattery, "Of course not. I'll be good and听话. My grandmother is still in your hands; I won't resist."
Oliver was pleased with her words, willing to believe every bit of it, even if he couldn't discern the sincerity behind them.
Upon arriving at the Peace Hotel, the staff directly led them to the reserved private room. As they entered, Amelia saw her idol.
"Hello, I'm Amelia Rose, and I'm thrilled to meet Designer Victor."
"The pleasure is all mine. I see great potential in Miss Amelia; you will undoubtedly achieve great things in the future."
Oliver sat down, quietly observing their conversation. On Amelia's face, he saw a smile he rarely witnessed—a sweet, genuine smile—and he recognized her talent. She was not just his canary; she was her own person.
During the conversation, Victor Sinclair was full of praise for Amelia, surprised by the innovative ideas she discussed about design. Initially, he had agreed to meet out of courtesy to Oliver, but Amelia had impressed him, truly showing boundless potential. It seemed he had discovered a rare talent.
Oliver was not idle either, constantly serving Amelia food, occasionally offering water and feeding her, which even Victor couldn't help but bless.
"Miss Amelia is very talented, and you two are deeply in love. Let's make a toast."
He raised his glass and drank a toast. Amelia was somewhat overwhelmed by the honor. This hard-earned opportunity today stirred emotions within Amelia, touched by Oliver's actions, yet also conflicted about his methods.