Chapter 88 William Ruined Everything She Dreamed Of
Lester's voice thundered through the warehouse, reverberating off the steel walls with a weight that pressed into the skin.
"One... two..."
"Isabella!" William's voice cut through the stillness like a blade.
Juniper froze. He was choosing to save Isabella? For a heartbeat, the thought clawed at her—was she about to lose to Isabella?
But the next second, William's jaw tightened. "Cut off Isabella's finger."
The knot in Juniper's chest loosened instantly. She had always known she wouldn't lose.
She turned toward Isabella, expecting to see fear, panic—anything that would taste like victory. But Isabella's face was an empty expanse. Not a flicker of emotion crossed her eyes. It was as if whatever William chose had nothing to do with her at all.
Juniper couldn't understand. Wasn't she supposed to love William? Being abandoned by the man she loved, knowing she was seconds away from losing part of her own body... and yet she didn't hate him, didn't curse, didn't tremble?
It had to be an act. Juniper refused to believe anyone could be truly untouched by this.
Lester's mouth curved in satisfaction. He gestured for Juniper's ropes to be cut, shoving her toward William.
Juniper's eyes brimmed with tears as she shook her head. "William, no... we can't do this to Isabella."
She stumbled toward him, her legs buckling. She fell into his arms, and his hands caught her instinctively.
"Juniper." Concern carved deep lines into his face. "Are you all right?"
Her eyelids drooped, her voice barely above a whisper. "I... feel so dizzy..."
Before she could finish, she collapsed completely. William didn't hesitate. "Get her to the hospital. Now."
Isabella watched his retreating back, her eyes hollow.
Lester laughed, cold and sharp. "Looks like he truly doesn't care about you. Walks away without a glance, as if your life means nothing."
Isabella said nothing. Lester cut her free, yanking her battered hand into the light.
"This is the wager between me and William. He left you here. Now it's my turn to decide what happens... and I'm going to ruin this finger."
Still, no fear.
The blade pressed against her knuckle. Old scars marred her palm, and her wrist bore deep, ragged cuts. Lester peeled back the blood-soaked bandage, revealing skin that seemed to have forgotten what it was to be whole.
He shook his head, smirking. "You're worse off than I was back then. Makes me almost hesitate... but I'm no good man."
He wouldn't let William walk away unscathed. Even if William's wife meant nothing to him, Lester would make her pay.
The knife flashed. Isabella's cry tore through the air.
William stopped dead in his tracks. He shoved Juniper into the arms of a guard without thinking and sprinted back.
Juniper's teeth clenched as she watched him run—rage boiling in her chest. He was leaving her... for Isabella.
In William's head, a voice roared. He had made a mistake. He should never have chosen Juniper. He needed to choose Isabella.
He burst back into the warehouse. Isabella was still bound to the chair, unconscious, blood streaming from her hand. The severed finger lay on the floor, deliberate, a provocation.
William snatched up the finger, wrapping it in his handkerchief. His voice was a whip crack. "Hospital. Now."
If they moved fast enough, it could be reattached. He wouldn't allow her to be left with a permanent mark.
Dylan's voice was already on the phone. "Mr. Spencer, helicopter in ten minutes."
"Too long. Make it faster!" William's tone shook, betraying an urgency he didn't even notice.
He grabbed the bloodied knife, slicing through her ropes. The marks on her wrists and ankles were deep, raw, bleeding. His fury burned hotter.
The ropes fell away, and her body slumped. He caught her before she hit the floor.
Dylan watched the way William held her, something shifting in his mind. Maybe William was starting to care.
The helicopter arrived. William carried her himself, boarding, refusing to let go until they reached the hospital.
The operating room lights blazed. Because they had been quick, the finger was reattached. But the damage was done—its agility would never be the same.
William stood outside, his face carved from stone.
"Find Lester. Put everyone on it. When you do, take him out. No reports, no delays."
Once, he had spared Lester's life. That mercy had bought him this. It would never happen again.
"Yes, Mr. Spencer."
Dylan moved without hesitation. Until Lester was gone, trouble would keep coming.
"William!" Juniper's voice was frail behind him.
He turned, seeing her unsteady steps, and went to hold her.
"What are you doing here? You should be resting." His words scolded, but his eyes softened.
Juniper's face was all worry. "I couldn't stop thinking about Isabella. How is she?"
William's brow tightened. "The doctors reattached her finger. She'll be fine."
Juniper sighed. "She's unbelievable. She could have escaped, but Lester wanted you to choose between us, and she stayed. If she had left, none of this would have happened."
William's gaze sharpened. "You're saying she had a chance to get away?"
Juniper nodded. "Yes. I bit through her ropes, told her to run. She refused."
Why? To make him worry? To win his pity?
The thought burned. He had been frantic, even regretful over his choice... and it had all been her game.
"She wanted me to feel guilty," he said coldly. "To change how I see her."
Juniper tilted her head. "Are you worried about Isabella?"
"How could I care about someone like her? I just didn't want her bleeding out and dying too easily. She needs to live long enough to pay for what she's done. Come on. I'll take you back to your room."
Juniper's voice was low. "Don't speak about her that way. She's just desperate for attention. We should be patient."
"Desperate enough to lose a finger for it? That's not patience. That's manipulation. She's not worth sympathy. Let's go."
Juniper lowered her gaze, hiding the smile that touched her lips.
She would make sure William's hatred deepened until Isabella was crushed forever.
In the next room, Thomas was sitting upright in bed.
"What? Her finger was severed?"
His assistant nodded. "It's been reattached, but it won't be as nimble as before. Her palm was injured too. The doctor says she'll never hold a pen again."
Pain hit Thomas like a blow to the chest. Drawing was Isabella's life. And William had destroyed her future with his own hands.