Chapter 224 Jailed
Emelie turned back to face him. William handed her the towel with a slight raise of his eyebrow. “I’m not rushing you, Emelle. Take your time.”
But Emelie couldn’t afford to take her time. Each day that passed without Greta recovering was filled with worry and uncertainty for her.
Whenever she called her sister, Eliana, she heard the same reassuring words–that Greta’s condition was stable. This allowed Emelie to momentarily release the tight grip of amely and carefully weigh her options.
She was reluctant to choose William, so she continued to search for alternative solutions. Emelie took the towel without a word, heading back to the bathroom to rinse it again. She returned and handed it to Willam, who adjusted himself on the bed.
*Could you help me with my lower back? There’s a dried blood spot that’s itching.”
Emelle hesitated. “I don’t-
“The artificial heart technology is more advanced and professional overseas,” Willam interjected, his tone matter–of–fact.
“But with your mom’s current condition, she can’t handle a long flight And going abroad would leave you feeling even more powerless in an unfamiliar place.”
Emelie tightened her grip on the towel, contemplating William’s proposition. Yes, she had contemplated going abroad, but she always pushed the idea aside for the practical reasons he had mentioned
William subtly signaled for her to assist him–as it suggesting that by helping him now, he could reciprocate later. Since that day at the Middleton Residence, when she helped him with his cufflinks, their dynamic had shifted to this nuanced give and take
away the dried blood from his lower back. Compared to his front, his back bore
After a brief internal debate, Emelle acquiesced to the arrangement and approached him to wipe aw two scars that marred an otherwise flawless physique.
These were whip marks. One on each side, forming an “X” The depth of these scars spoke volumes of the pain he must have endured.
However, she couldn’t fathom how he acquired such wounds. Given his status, who would dare whip him like a criminal or an animal?
Back when they were close, she had asked him about the scars because she was concerned. She even guessed that maybe he had angered his dad, Henry, and was beaten by him, given the tense relationship between father and son.
William’s expression soured at the time, and he scotted, saying his dad would never beat him like that. So, if not his father, then who? It was a question she had asked herself many times since, but one in which William had never provided a clear answer.
Sering those scats again, Emelle couldn’t help but wonder where they came from, though it was more out of curiosity than anything else. However, she wouldn’t ask now. Even though she hadn’t brought it up, William did. “Checking out my scars again?”
Emelie denied it flatly. “No.”
You say that, but I know better. Remember how you asked about them before? Did I ever tell you? still curious?”
Emelie said nothing, but she scrubbed harder, wiping away the dried blood from her hands.
Out of nowhere, he said, “I got beaten in ja”
Emelie froze, turning sharply to look at him. But in William’s eyes, there was a hint of a smirk as if to suggest that she still gave a damn about him.
It left her wondering was he serious or just messing with her? Emelie shot back icly, “Are you messing with me?
William shrugged nonchalantly. “Just taking a page from your book. Remember when I asked about your miscarriage? You told me you were kidnapped. Seems equally improbable, doesn’t it?”
“If you think it’s improbable, then it’s improbable,” she retorted.
“If you say I’m messing with you, then take it as me messing with you.”
And so, no one knew if her kidnapping tale was true, just as no one knew it his story about getting roughed up in jail was genuine. The two of them always seemed locked in a subtle contest, neither willing to give ground.
Emelie grew agitated and abruptly changed the subject “So, what’s the plan? My mom can’t fly abroad, so?”
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