The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 439

That's what he said, but Penelope had a feeling something had happened to Theodore.

She rushed to the hotel, where Harold was already waiting at the entrance.

When he saw her, he hurried over in a panic.

“Ma’am, Mr. Stapleton didn’t want you to come. You tricked me!”

Penelope cleared her throat. “I was worried about him.”

“Mr. Stapleton’s injuries aren’t that serious…”

“He’s injured?”

Harold was speechless. As a man with dual master's degrees in law and management, it was the first time he’d ever felt so foolish, tricked into spilling the beans by Penelope time and again.

“I know there’s no way I can get you to leave now, so I can take you up, but you have to follow my instructions.”

“No problem,” Penelope agreed readily.

They arrived at the presidential suite on the top floor. The hallway was lined with bodyguards, and the door was open, with uniformed nurses coming and going. When Penelope saw a nurse emerge with a tray of blood-soaked clothes, her heart sank.

“You must have a goddamn death wish!”

A loud thud echoed from inside, followed by the crash of what sounded like a glass being thrown against something before shattering on the floor.

The voice wasn't Theodore's; it was Hamilton's.

Harold gestured for Penelope to be quiet, then ushered her inside during the bustle of nurses moving in and out. Before she could even glance into the living room, he pushed her into a dressing room.

Peeking through the crack in the door, she saw Theodore sitting on a black leather sofa, shirtless, as a doctor stitched up a wound on his abdomen.

Hamilton kicked Louis again, and several burly bodyguards stepped forward, each larger and more menacing than the last.

Terrified, Louis begged Theodore for mercy. “Mr. Stapleton, please, spare my pathetic life! I know I was wrong!”

Just then, the doctor finished stitching Theodore’s wound. Theodore thanked him, then flicked a finger. All non-essential personnel filed out, and the door was closed from the outside.

He leaned forward, a simple movement that made Louis' eyes tremble with fear.

“Mr. Stapleton, I was deceived.”

Theodore seemed to be toying with him. He smirked, leaned back, and asked Hamilton for a cigarette. Before Hamilton could respond, Louis scrambled to light it for him.

He took a few drags, as if to steady himself.

“You used a semi-truck carrying rebar to hit me. Afraid I wouldn't die on the first try, were you?”