Chapter 62 My Dignity Trampled by Him
I resisted with silence, wordlessly expressing my dissatisfaction.
Lucas leaned lazily against the backrest. "Don't you want to know how Brian is doing?"
I had no other choice but to take a capsule from the small medicine box and hold it in my mouth, leaning close to Lucas. Then I suddenly remembered Alfred was still nearby.
Alfred quickly lowered his head, preparing to leave, but Lucas stopped him. "Stay there."
My body trembled slightly. Lucas urged me, "Hurry up."
Swallowing my shame, I pressed my lips to his, quickly pushing the capsule with my tongue. Unsurprisingly, Lucas caught my tongue.
He held the back of my neck to keep me from leaving, deliberately making sounds as the intimate wet noises echoed through the quiet room.
I struggled and pushed away, only to be pressed down onto the sofa by Lucas. From the corner of my eye, I could see Alfred still standing in front of the sofa. Suddenly, I felt a chill on my chest—Lucas had unbuttoned my pajamas.
Tears slid from the corners of my eyes.
He wanted me to please him humbly in front of Alfred, to sell my body like a prostitute. I felt humiliated. My dignity was being trampled by him!
Lucas touched the corner of my eye and my tear-dampened lashes, cursed under his breath, and barked at Alfred, "Get out!"
Alfred rushed out.
"Alfred had his back turned; he didn't see anything." Lucas picked me up and tossed me onto the bed.
I quickly reached under the pillow, but Lucas beat me to it, grabbed the fork, and threw it on the floor.
"I saw it when I came in." Lucas raised an eyebrow, took off his shirt, pinned me down, and his burning kisses quickly descended.
Two hours later, Lucas finally let me go.
He fed me half a cup of water, then carried my limp body to the bathroom.
In the bathroom, he did it with me again. His stamina was unbelievable.
And I didn't even have the strength left to tell him to "get lost."
I slept for quite a while. When I woke up, I was getting an IV drip.
I looked up at the hanging bag—the label said glucose and sodium chloride.
Then I noticed this wasn't the restroom at Lucas's company. I'd been moved while unconscious.
Lucas walked in carrying a tray, the scene replaying what had happened a few days ago.
I clearly felt my sense of time had become completely blurred.
This wasn't a good sign. If this continued, my willpower would gradually crumble.
"Where is this?" I asked.
This bedroom looked very similar to the master bedroom where Lucas and I had lived together for three years in the villa, just slightly smaller.
"In the divorce agreement, I gave you a house. This is it." Lucas set down the tray—this time it was a nutritious meal.
"You never came to see it even once, did you?" He used a rhetorical question, but his tone was certain.
I really hadn't been here. If I'd discovered earlier that this place was decorated exactly like our villa, maybe I would have noticed Lucas's twisted psychology sooner.
"Did you take your medicine today?" I asked.
Lucas stirred the mushroom soup with a spoon, paused, and answered coldly, "I did."
I felt a hint of relief, but my tense nerves wouldn't dare fully relax.
"How did I get here?" Had Lucas secretly moved me?
Had Gale and Brian noticed? I wondered how Brian's injury was.
Lucas heard my probing but didn't hide or dodge. He said, "I carried you straight out of the company, then into the parking garage. Several cars left together to split up. Gale and Brian knew I took you, but didn't know which car you were in, so they could only split up to follow. Brian wore a bulletproof vest; he's fine and jumping around. He and Gale were afraid of hurting you, so they didn't dare forcibly stop the cars. Now they're searching everywhere for you."
"My brothers really care about me. They're my closest family. There's no using, no deceiving. Don't be misled by those news reports." I softened my tone, trying to communicate rationally with Lucas, who seemed much more normal now.
I didn't want the misunderstanding between Lucas, Gale, and Brian to deepen further, or it would only hurt everyone.
The commotion Gale and Brian made surrounding the dock must have been significant. I wondered what the situation in Starstream City had become these past few days.
"They're so annoying. You're my woman, yet they dare to deny that." Lucas clearly hadn't listened to what I said.
"Eat." He handed me a silicone soft spoon. "No drugs in it. After you eat, I'll take you out for a walk."
When I heard I could go out, thoughts of escape grew wildly.
And I'd been hungry for too many days. Even if the food was drugged, I had to eat something. Glucose and electrolyte injections alone couldn't give me enough strength.
I cautiously picked out a piece of broccoli from the bowl, took a small bite, carefully tasting it. There really was no medicinal taste.
Under Doyle's training, I was very sensitive to medicine tastes. After confirming the food was safe, I ate the entire nutritious meal.
No matter what, only by obeying Lucas could I gain more freedom.
Lucas kept his promise, put a coat on me, but he had no intention of letting me leave this house. His "going out for a walk" meant leaving the bedroom to walk around the living room.
I held back my dissatisfaction, and after the walk, I cooperatively returned to the room, patiently waiting for an opportunity.
The opportunity came at night.
Deep in the night, Lucas fell asleep holding me.
I opened my eyes, silently counted Lucas's breathing rhythm, confirmed he was sleeping deeply, broke free from his arms, and got out of bed. The bedroom door wasn't locked.
I looked back—Lucas's position hadn't changed, he didn't seem to have been woken by me.
I walked quietly out of the bedroom to the kitchen.
I opened the refrigerator. The abundance of ingredients was reassuring. I picked and chose, selected and reconsidered. Suddenly, the overhead light came on. Lucas stood in the kitchen doorway, asking what I was doing.
"I'm a bit hungry." I said gently, "I'm planning to cook some pasta. Would you like some?"
Dinner had been made by a newly hired chef. I'd noticed Lucas hadn't eaten much.
Sure enough, Lucas said, "Okay."
I put on an apron and busied myself around the stove. Lucas watched me in his pajamas, occasionally handing me a tool.
The atmosphere seemed warm, but it was all an illusion.
Another day passed. Lucas relaxed his guard over me. He let me move around freely, but didn't allow me to go out or contact anyone.
He barely went out either. In the afternoon, we sat in the living room watching TV.
I fiddled with the remote. When I switched to the local news channel, Amelia's face appeared on the screen.
My brow twitched, but I didn't change the channel.
The news said Amelia had made public a handwritten letter Doyle wrote to her. She was actually Doyle's student, and felt very pained that Doyle's belongings had fallen into my hands and been copied and sold.
She strongly condemned me, demanding I return Doyle's notes and hand over all the improper income from selling copies of the notes.
My mouth opened slightly, shocked by Amelia's shamelessness.
And that handwritten letter was clearly written by Doyle to me!
The female news anchor was saying, "It's been four days since Amelia publicly condemned Isabella. The Sorelli family has yet to respond directly. Is it that they don't care to respond, or have they accepted Amelia's accusations?"
Lucas turned off the TV. "Time for a walk."
He reached out his hand to me. I sat there, not getting up.
"Amelia says she's Doyle's student. Do you believe her?"
Lucas said indifferently, "Whether she is or isn't doesn't matter to me."