Chapter 193
Victoria lay pale and still in Martin's arms. No matter how hard Martin shook her or how angrily he shouted, her tightly closed eyes showed no sign of opening.
Martin reached out his bony fingers and held them beneath her nose to check her breathing.
His face instantly changed color—Victoria's breath had become so weak it was almost gone.
Martin completely panicked. How could this happen?
Why was this happening?
He had only wanted to punish her a little. How had it become so serious that she'd stopped breathing?
He scooped up the unconscious Victoria into his arms. Her body was impossibly light, like a withered leaf about to fall from a branch—so light and weightless, nothing like a normal person's weight.
Martin carried Victoria and rushed toward the garage.
He placed her in the passenger seat and quickly fastened her seatbelt.
Flooring the gas pedal, he drove like a madman to get Victoria to Terry's.
On the way, Martin called Terry. After learning the situation, Terry agreed to wait at the hospital in advance and told Martin that in this condition, he absolutely couldn't let Victoria fall asleep.
Once she fell asleep, she might never wake up again.
Martin hung up the phone, his fingertips gripping the steering wheel so tight they turned white.
"Victoria, Victoria!"
He drove while constantly calling her name, over and over again.
She either couldn't hear him or purposely showing no reaction at all.
Martin's face tensed as he growled, "Victoria, wake up, do you hear me? Who said you could sleep? I won't allow you to sleep! Victoria!"
Victoria, slumped in the passenger seat, actually struggling to open her eyes.
Her liver still hurt terribly, like countless poisonous snakes were biting and countless ants were devouring.
The pain made cold sweat break out on her forehead.
Victoria thought her face must look awful, truly awful, without a trace of color.
She pulled at the corner of her mouth, not looking at him but gazing at the traffic light on the elevated bridge ahead that suddenly turned green, "Martin, you got what you wanted. I'm really dying this time?. Dad has come to get me. He's taking me away from this world."
She thought of all the past memories—the good ones, the bad ones, the sweet ones, the sad ones.
She couldn't hold back her tears as they spilled from her eyes, "You won't be able to threaten me anymore, won't be able to bully me anymore."
"Victoria, I forbid you to say such depressing things! I'm taking you to the hospital now. You must hold on!" Martin's veins bulged as he shouted angrily.
Victoria really couldn't understand him. He clearly wanted her dead, and now she was really dying.
Yet he was so angry.
Shouldn't he be happy?
Why take her to the hospital?
The hospital wasn't good at all.
Nothing but medicine, just medicine.
She'd had enough of bitter medicine, didn't want to take it anymore.
"You haven't finished repaying what you owe me! What right do you have to die? Victoria, what gives you the right to die? Stay alive, do you hear me! Live properly—death is too easy for you!" Martin didn't know why, but his heart wasn't thinking this way. What he really wanted was to continue living with Victoria.
To go back to how things were before.
But when the words came out, they changed flavor, becoming like knives that hurt people.
Victoria felt her eyelids growing heavy. They closed, then opened again.
Her heart felt so blocked, so stuffed. So he didn't want her to die not because he couldn't bear to lose her, but because dying now would be too easy for her—he hadn't tortured her enough yet.
What a good husband, the man she'd loved throughout her entire youth—how could he be like this?
Thinking about this, Victoria's stomach churned violently.
Her head dropped forward and she vomited a mouthful of fresh blood.
Bright red blood sprayed onto her white down jacket, all over her cheeks and the corners of her mouth.
Her mouth was filled with the taste of blood.
"Victoria!" Martin panicked—she was vomiting blood again.
She was vomiting blood in front of him again?
He turned the steering wheel to maximum speed. He was out of options. He felt Victoria was leaving him, abandoning him.
His mind kept flashing through ways to make her stay, and finally he chose threats.
Yes, threats—he had no other methods left.
"Hold on, think of the Gonzalez family! Think of your mother, think of your father! Victoria, as long as you hold on, I'll restore Hayden's medication! Your parents only have you. If you die, how will they live?" Martin spoke frantically.
Victoria smiled bitterly. If he'd agreed earlier, she wouldn't have knelt in the snow for so long, wouldn't have forgotten to bring her pain medication, wouldn't have ended up like this.
This was fate.
This was fate—her destiny with Martin was to always miss each other, to have connection but no future together, to constantly and repeatedly miss each other.
Victoria wanted to hold on too. She wanted to see her father get better, but she felt exhausted in body and spirit.
Her vitality, her consciousness seemed beyond her control, draining away bit by bit.
Like a handful of sand—the tighter she gripped, the faster it disappeared.
"Martin, I can't hold on anymore. If you can, for the sake of our marriage, please help take care of the Gonzalez family, take care of my mother. She's innocent. All the wrongs, all the debts—please let them be wiped clean because of my death. I'm giving you back my life. This is my greatest sincerity."
Victoria's words came out broken and halting, gasping for breath.
With each sentence, she felt completely drained.
Martin was shocked. Now she didn't even care about Hayden's life or death?
She was determined to leave him?
Terror, fear, anger, helplessness.
Countless emotions surged through Martin's heart. He shouted frantically, "Victoria, try dying and see what happens! If you dare to die, I'll make the Gonzalez family, make your parents all join you in death, believe me or not? What right do you have to end your own life?"
Life is precious—didn't she understand that?
Victoria felt terrible physically, and his harsh, bitter words kept drilling into her ears.
More manipulation, more warnings.
Victoria sobbed in anguish, tears streaming down madly.
Her consciousness faded bit by bit, her eyelids already fighting to stay open.
But she forced herself to stay alert, not daring to close her eyes.
Not daring to let her consciousness completely fade, though she desperately wanted to fall asleep completely and stop caring about everything.
"Bastard—monster—" Victoria cursed through gritted teeth, but she didn't even have the strength to curse him properly.
Martin's expression softened somewhat. If she could curse him, hate him, that was better than dying.
The car reached the hospital.
Martin carried the struggling Victoria, who kept hitting him, and rushed into the special elevator to find Terry, who had been waiting in the operating room for a while. Terry, wearing his white coat, was about to have the medical staff wheel Victoria into the operating room.
Before entering the operating room, Martin sneered in Victoria's ear, "If you dare die in there, I'll immediately send your father to his grave. Your mother will be tortured into madness by me and locked up in a mental hospital."