Vengeance in His Bed novel Chapter 132

Chapter 132: Continue Dreaming

Jannah sat frozen on the edge of the bed, her face completely pale. The words echoed in her ears, sending a terrible chill straight to her bones. Her mind refused to accept the terrifying reality that Dorrent had just thrown in her face.

"No... you are lying," Jannah gasped out, her voice trembling as she shook her head. She gripped the white sheets with her left hand until her knuckles turned white. "You are lying to me! My grandfather would never do that! He would never give me away to a monster like you! What did you do to him? What sick method of manipulation did you use on an old, helpless man to make him agree to this nightmare?!"

Her breathing became frantic, her chest heaving as tears of panic and rage threatened to spill over. She tried to scramble further away from Dorrent, but her sudden, violent movements caused her right arm—still heavy and restricted by the thick plaster cast—to jerk painfully against her side.

Before she could injure herself, Dorrent moved forward. His frame instantly closed the distance, and he caught her by her shoulders. With an unyielding but surprisingly careful grip, he pulled her trembling body directly against his chest. Jannah struggled against him, kicking her legs and trying to push him away with her good left hand, but it was like trying to move a solid mountain of granite.

Dorrent didn’t let go. Instead, he wrapped his arms securely around her, pinning her flailing limbs gently to his chest. He began to pat her back with slow, steady strokes, his voice dropping into a rumbling murmur right beside her ear.

"Calm down, Jannah," Dorrent murmured, his chest vibrating against her cheek. "Watch out. Stop thrashing around before you hurt your hand again. The cast comes off tomorrow, and you are going to ruin all the progress you’ve made if you keep acting like a wild animal."

"Let me go! Don’t touch me!" Jannah shrieked, her voice muffled against his expensive shirt. She detested his warmth, and she hated the heavy, winter-frost scent that rolled off his skin, threatening to suffocate her senses. With a desperate surge of strength, she managed to push her elbow against his ribs, forcing him to loosen his grip slightly so she could look up at his handsome face.

Her dark eyes flashed with an intense, burning fire of hatred. "My grandfather is sick! The old man is losing his memory, and you know it! You can’t buy anything he says right now! He doesn’t even remember the layout of our own street half the time! This isn’t fair... this is a cruel trap! You are just using your massive influence, your wealth, and your terrifying family name to manipulate the weak and the vulnerable!"

Guron Grefo, who had been standing silently near the foot of the bed watching the chaotic display, stepped forward. His eyes looked down at Jannah with unbothered calm.

"You are wrong about that, girl," Guron stated flatly, his booming voice cutting through her words. "Your grandfather is actually doing very well. The medical experts have been working on his brain, and his mind is perfectly functional. He is recovering some of his old memories with complete clarity. He knew exactly who I was, and he knew exactly what he was agreeing to when we spoke."

Jannah’s heart skipped a beat, a deep, sickening dread settling into the pit of her stomach. No... it couldn’t be true. Her grandfather would never betray her. He knew how much she valued her freedom. He knew how much she hated the predatory Alphas of the upper districts. Why would he sign her away to the worst one of them all?

He leaned in a bit closer, his hot breath brushing against her cheek. "But with you? My system reacts completely differently. You will benefit immensely from my great bed matches, and so will I. We are highly compatible in that department, and you know it. We can have beautiful, strong kids together. It’s a natural match."

"Continue dreaming, Dorrent!" Jannah hissed, her voice shaking with disgust as she glared into his eyes. "I am never marrying you! You will never win my heart, you will never earn my respect, and I will absolutely never carry your kids! I would rather tear my own womb out than let a monster like you put a child inside me!"

The harsh, venomous words struck Dorrent in the chest. He felt the sharp sting of her rejection cutting deep into his pride, more than he cared to admit. For a brief, fleeting second, looking at her small, trembling body wrapped in the oversized hospital blanket, a strange wave of genuine pity washed over him.

Deep inside his mind, his mother’s chilling warnings from their previous conversation began to replay like a dark nightmare.

Because nine years ago, during that terrible black cycle rut... you were the one who brutally slaughtered Jannah’s parents in the 3rd Street gutters.