The Divorced Heiress Revenge (Bella Thompson) novel Chapter 2475

This time, the injection did not bring the searing pain that made life worse than death.

Yvonne’s cracked lips quivered. She gazed at the man before her, her tears falling in heavy, silent streams.

Jace looked back at her just as deeply, an unspoken understanding passing between them. At this moment, words were unnecessary.

“Hugh… Thank you…” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, yet it struck Jace like a hammer to the chest.

When she called him Hugh this time, he did not correct her, nor did he resist. He simply accepted it.

Since the night Yvonne had been captured, he had suffocated under the weight of regret. Every day, he lived with the tormenting thought, ‘If I hadn’t blocked her path… If I’d let her go just a moment sooner… Would she have escaped Clarice’s grasp? Would she have been spared this agony?’

“You should know… No one who enters this place ever leaves. Most do not even escape death.” His voice was low, thick with something unreadable.

Then, in a rare and quiet defiance, hidden beyond the surveillance cameras, he reached out and wrapped his calloused fingers around her frail, bony hand. “So hold on. Just a little longer. Give me time—I will find a way.”

Yvonne’s heart clenched. A warmth, foreign yet comforting, spread through her chest. She closed her eyes, a silent acceptance, a fragile trust.

She had reached her breaking point long ago. More than once, she had thought of biting through her tongue to end it all. But Jace’s words and his promise anchored her.

Even if he ultimately failed to save her, she would never hate him. Her life was worthless.

But if she could wake Hugh up, if she could pull him back from the abyss and help him reclaim the memories he had lost, then it would all be worth it.

A sharp, familiar click echoed down the corridor. The measured, deliberate rhythm of high heels striking the cold floor.

‘Clarice.’ Jace’s expression darkened.

Pressing a single finger to his lips, he signaled Yvonne to remain silent. Then, with swift precision, he gripped the collar of her hospital gown and yanked it open.

A large expanse of her pale, fragile skin was exposed beneath him. He dropped to one knee beside her bed, his towering frame shielding her from view.

The iron door swung open with a deafening bang.

Clarice stood in the doorway, dark and imposing, her presence thick with suspicion. Behind her, two bodyguards stood like silent shadows.

She had just been freed from detention when her informant reported that Jace had dismissed the medical staff and gone in alone.

Fury had ignited in her veins, but there was also exhilaration.