Chapter 110 Her Disappointment

Chapter 110 Her Disappointment
THIRD PERSON POV:
Mr. Whitlock stumbled down the hotel corridor, the heavy silence of the hallway ringing in his ears. 
His mind was a storm of denial, replay, and panic.
“I did what was right,” he told himself, his fists clenching in his coat pockets. 
‘I was a good father. I made her strong. If I hadn't pushed her back to Vince, she would be ruined.’
He stepped into the lobby, his vision blurring, completely oblivious to his surroundings.
‘She's just emotional. She'll realize it tomorrow. She always comes back. I don't beg. She will understand herself.’
CRASH!
“Sir! Oh, I am so sorry!” a hotel staff member gasped, scrambling to pick up a tray of dropped ice glasses.
He didn't even look down. He brushed past the startled employee in a complete daze.
He was pushing through the glass doors and stepping straight out into the roaring storm. 
‘I protected our name. I protected her future. I am a better father than anyone gives me credit for! I—’
He stepped off the wet curb directly into the darkened street, his mind miles away.
A deafening horn shattered the night. 
High-beam headlights blinded his eyes. Tires shrieked against the rain-slicked asphalt.
Before Arthur could even turn his head, the metal struck.
A horrific impact. 
Then, everything went black.



ALYSSA’S POV:
“He's gone,” Vince spoke cautiously when the door closed, observing my dejected form.
“I know…” I whispered. After endless struggles, a tear rolled down my cheek. 
“He didn't even say sorry, Vince. Not even once… as always.”
Vince sat down on the very edge of the mattress, leaving a respectable space between us. 
“You gave him the chance, Alyssa.”
“I was waiting for him to break,” I choked out, a bitter, broken laugh escaping my throat. 
“Do you know how pathetic that is? After everything he's done to me…” 
My head lowered. I found myself ashamed to even think like this. 
“A part of me was still waiting for him to run to this bed, pull me into his arms, and say, 'I'm sorry, my child.'”
“It isn't pathetic,” Vince murmured, his dark eyes fixed on mine with a strange intensity. 
“It's human.”
“No, it's stupid,” I countered, mumbling under my breath, resting my chin on my knees.
“He was a fool, Alyssa,” Vince said quietly, his hand trembling slightly as he rested it near my knee, not quite touching me. 
“He never deserved a daughter like you.”
“And what about you?” I asked, my voice cracking as I stared right into his conflicted, dangerous eyes. 
“Did you deserve me, Vince?” I mocked.
“Or was I just the easiest target in your war with Arden?”
Vince drew a slow breath, the silence stretching between us until it began to sting me and I glared at him.
“I didn't deserve you either…” he admitted, stripped of every piece of his usual pride. 
“Not then. And maybe not now. But I am not letting you go.”
“I have nothing left to give you,” I whispered, closing my eyes as the fever made my head throb badly. 
“My heart is entirely empty.”
“Then let me be the one to fill it,” he murmured, his fingers carefully, hesitantly brushing a damp lock of hair from my forehead. 
“Even if you hate me for the rest of your life... just stay.”
“Staying doesn’t mean I am yours.” I hissed, slapping his hand away, maintaining as much distance as possible between us.
“Just like with everyone.” 
Vince opened his mouth to search for an explanation but had nothing to speak. 
With disheartening feelings reaching their peak, I began sorrowfully.
“Just because I have sought comfort from the people that are supposed to be my protectors, I have become pathetic.”
Vince flinched, a sudden look of realization crossed but that did not bring any pain. His jaw simply tightened, not looking away.
“Every single man I trusted ended up destroying me,” I whispered, the exhaustion finally pulling my shoulders down.
“Father never cared for me…” 
“...Arden left me too.” 
“...Ken ruined me.” 
“And you?” I looked at him through the tears and smiled painfully. “The master manipulator.” 
“I had a reason.” He replied hurriedly. 
“Does your reasoning make my pain and betrayal valid?” My voice broke.
“It does.”
“How, Vince?” A sharp, unwanted cry broke. A few tears fell directly which I quickly wiped away.
“Tell me how stealing my faith in love, breaking me just to rebuild me again is ever going to help you?”
“You are here.” He leaned close enough to mingle his breaths with mine. Eyes darkened with a possession I never saw before.
“That alone isn't enough.” 
I scoffed, lying back down. “You are saying as if you loved me before marriage.” 
Vince almost opened his mouth to justify but since he had none, he merely looked outside the window. 
His hand powerlessly clutching the sheets as he swallowed the lump in his throat.
“I don’t know what love is in the first place, Alyssa.” 
“Exactly.” I growled, the fact piercing my very heart. “You don’t know.” 
Covering myself with the duvets, I closed my eyes, murmuring to myself so he won’t hear.
“And still I want the man who knows.” 
For minutes that felt like hours, we remained motionless. 
My body was numb, completely giving up on me under the weight of the fever.
It wasn’t long before I drifted into a dreamless, unsettling sleep.
My body throbbed, and my head was on the verge of bursting. 
But whenever my heavy eyelids fluttered open, I saw Vince sitting at the foot of the bed, quietly massaging my feet.
“Argh…”
By the time I woke up again, my body felt slightly better. 
“It’s alright. Go back to sleep,” Vince whispered softly, his hand still resting warm against my ankle.
I closed my eyes again, but before sleep could pull me under, my phone began to ring from the nightstand. 
Groaning, my hand extended blindly toward the sound.
“You don’t have to pick it up,” Vince warned, reaching over to stop me.
Ignoring him, I swiped the screen and brought it to my ear without looking at the caller ID.
What else could I be other than work?
“Hello? Is this Alyssa Lysander?”
“Yes. Who is it?” I rasped out.
“This is Lee from Central Hospital. Your father, Mr. Whitlock has met with a severe accident.”
Unwillingly, my body reacted on its own. I bolted straight up in bed, my heart began to beat madly against my ribs as the panic surfaced.
“What? When? H-How is he?!”
“He is not… well.” He paused hesitantly, letting the words settle.
“He wishes to see you in his final moments.”