Vengeance in His Bed novel Chapter 147

Chapter 147: Chilling Validation

The luxury sedan rolled through the wrought-iron gates of the Grefo estate, its tires slicing across the driveway with a low, oppressive hum. Inside the cabin, the silence remained unbroken since they left the sterile, clinical horrors of the morgue.

Jannah sat pressed against the passenger door, her left arm held rigidly against her chest in its crude splint, her face turned entirely toward the darkened window. Her eyes were wide, vacant, and completely shattered, staring out at the passing streetlamps without seeing them. The image of her grandfather’s lifeless, cold face—the blue-tinted lips, the rattling gasp that had signaled the final collapse of his frail biology—was permanently burned into her retinas. A bitter, acidic poison churned in her gut, twisting her grief into a dangerous knot of hatred.

Beside her, Dorrent kept one hand gripped firmly on the steering wheel, his eyes frequently darting toward her small, trembling frame. Throughout the grueling journey back from the slums, he had attempted to speak. He had offered words of comfort, his deep voice carrying a rare, raw strain of genuine concern as he promised to unearth the truth, promised that she was safe under his roof, promised that he would take care of everything.

Jannah had ignored every single syllable. She had blocked out the very frequency of his voice, treating his presence like a foul, invasive wind. She didn’t need his comforting words. She didn’t want his pity. She hated him now more than she had ever thought possible. Every time he opened his mouth, she didn’t hear a billionaire tycoon trying to soothe her; she heard the executioner. She saw the monster whose S-tier primal madness had slaughtered her parents nine years ago in those exact gutters. She couldn’t bear to look at his symmetrical, handsome face. Sharing the confined space of the vehicle with him felt like breathing in shards of broken glass.

The sedan finally pulled to a sharp halt in front of the grand portico of the main mansion. The engine cut out, plunging the car into an even deeper, more hostile silence.

Dorrent immediately unbuckled, stepping out into the cool night air. He marched around the hood with long, sweeping strides, his massive frame cutting through the dim light as he pulled the passenger door open. He bent down, extending a hand to help her navigate the high step of the vehicle.

"Jannah, let me help you," Dorrent murmured, his arm reaching out toward her waist. "Your ribs are still bandaged. Don’t strain your left side."

"Don’t touch me," Jannah spat, her voice a low, vibrating hiss that cut through his authority like a razor blade. She didn’t look at him. She violently twisted her torso away from his extended hand, ignoring the blinding flare of agony that shot through her fractured ribcage as she forced her own boots onto the gravel. She stumbled slightly, her pale face draining of all color, but she aggressively slapped his hand away when he tried to catch her elbow. Holding her splinted arm tightly against her chest, she straightened her spine with a frantic, desperate pride and began to march directly toward the grand entrance of the house.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify