Five Years Wasted Now They Beg Her Back novel Chapter 15

Grace woke up in pain.

After going so long without food and suffering such an intense emotional blow, her stomach was protesting.

Grace forced her eyes open.

The first thing she saw was a... lavish crystal chandelier.

Where was she?

Her brain stalled for three seconds.

The sound of flowing water reached her ears, and turning her head, she saw a large, decorative water wall.

In an instant, the memories from before she passed out came rushing back.

Cassian’s cruel words, the stinking trash can, and... the old suitcase soaked with dirty water.

Thinking of her suitcase, she shot up in bed.

The sudden movement pulled at the scrapes from her fall, and she hissed in pain.

She began to look around the room.

It appeared to be a bedroom, a very luxurious one.

The air was filled with a crisp scent of cedar, exactly the same as the one she had smelled before she fainted.

The scent reminded her of the blurry figure of the man.

She looked down and realized she wasn't wearing her old, mud-stained clothes.

Instead, she was in... a pair of smooth silk pajamas.

The discovery left Grace stunned.

The color drained from her face, and with a trembling hand, she lifted the covers to check her body.

The pajamas were untouched.

And apart from her old injuries, there were no signs that she had been assaulted.

Confirming this, her tense nerves finally relaxed a bit.

But immediately after, a wave of sadness washed over her.

That her first instinct would be to suspect something like that had happened to her.

What kind of person had Ethan and the Harts turned her into over the past five years?

She had lost even the most basic sense of security, terrified of the slightest disturbance.

Underneath the phone was a printed note.

It contained a single line of text.

“Returning what is yours. Please rest well.”

Grace looked at the words, then back at the manuscripts, and her eyes grew warm.

Her own family had treated her life’s work like trash, discarding it without a second thought.

Yet a stranger had shown her the most basic respect.

Knock, knock, knock.

The sound came from the door.

Grace wiped the moisture from the corner of her eye and asked warily, “Who is it?”

“Ms. Hart, hello. My name is Felix Warren. I’m Mr. Clarke’s executive assistant,” the voice from outside was gentle and respectful. “Are you awake?”

Mr. Clarke?

Grace’s mind was a complete blank. The name didn’t ring a bell at all.