You were following me?”
Nonetheless, Diarmuid completely ignored him and led him upstairs.
Knowing that there was no escape, Abigail tried regardless. She tied her bed sheels into a rope to escape, but the door was kicked open just as she reached for the window.
Diarmuid glared at her murderously from the doorway.
“Going to jump?” He smiled. Go on.”
Abigail froze at the window, knowing then that she was not getting away even if she jumped.
“No, I won‘t,” she mumbled as she got off the window sill.
Diarmuid kept his expression cool then, hiding his inconsolable rage. “What, afraid that you‘d fall to your death?”
He strode toward her, and Abigail felt terrified even as she watched him. “Don‘t come any closer…
“What are you afraid?” Diarmuid kept walking steadily toward her anyway, backing Abigail against the wall.
Still, she still pretended to be calm. “You signed the divorce papers, didn‘t you? There‘s nothing between us now, so please keep your distance…”
Diarmuid laughed icily. “What are you talking about?”
Abigail was still very ill because she had just delivered a child yesterday. Even so, she forced herself to stand her ground. “Why can‘t you just let me go?!”
Diarmuid suddenly grabbed her neck, the darkness looking as if it could devour her even as his fingers clenched.” Because it hurts you.”
“Is that why you insist on staying married? Because you can tie me down?” She breathed through her throat with much difficulty.
“Yes! I want you to beg for your death!” Diarmuid snarled, and pushed her out of the window.
Stan tried to stop it, but he was too late – Abigail had already fallen out of the window.
There was a dull thud, but Diarmuid coolly told him, “Take her away.”
With that, he turned and left the room.
Stan peeked outside the window–it was not exactly high here since it was just the second floor, but anyone falling out from here would still be severely injured.
He felt sympathy for Abigail, but his heart was not aching for her.
She was the one who challenged Diarmuid, and it was her own fault for running away when the world was her oyster.
Everyone had spent months looking for her!
Downstairs , Abigail was curling up in agony, with her leg being especially painful. She reached out to touch it, and could tell that there was a broken bone.
Even so, Stan barked at his men to pick her up unceremoniously–even a little violently!
Abigail had no strength to resist, allowing herself to be dragged around like a rag doll. Harvey was left watching helplessly as everything unfolded.
While this might be his domain, Diarmuid came prepared and had numbers on his side.
But most of all, Harvey was frustrated by his negligence and Diarmuid‘s devious nature!
Utterly furious, he growled, “I‘ll destroy you, Diarmuid Althoff!”
Diarmuid, however, was not bothered at all, and did not even glance Harvey’s way as he left straightaway.
Abigail was already frail, and was unconscious by the time she was stuffed into the car.
“She‘s bleeding and probably hurt. Shouldn‘t we take her to the hospital?” Stan asked.
“No.” Diarmuid simply replied — he knew well that a person would not die falling from that height.
It would be even better if she ended up a cripple. She would never be able to run off now!
Stan naturally did not try to press Diarmuid, knowing that he was furious and wanted to punish Abigail as terribly as possible.
After taking Abigail back to Cloud City, Diarmuid locked her up.
She was covered in darkness when she woke up–she had no idea where she was or how long she was out.
She smelled blood on herself and the scent of milk.
She was still lactating, but since her baby was not with her, she was left bloated.
Her throat was so parched she could not say a word, and it hurt everywhere.
There was despair in her eyes–she knew that things would end horribly once Diarmuid reached her, but she did not want to die.
Her boy was born without a father. He should not have to live without a mother too!
As she tried to move her body, the steel door before her suddenly opened.
She looked up through her disheveled hair to find Mrs. Watson entering, and hope shone into her eyes.
“Mrs. Watson…” she rasped.
However, Mrs. Watson merely put her food down in front of her, cast her a brief look of sympathy and left without a word.
Abigail tried to say more, but Mrs. Watson had closed the door in her face, leaving her in darkness again.
Her gaze darkened, and she suddenly realized that she did not even have the strength to eat, and simply lay there with an utterly muddled consciousness.
When Diarmuid returned to the mansion, he stood in the living room and unbuttoned his jacket while acting unconcerned. “Is she staying put this time?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Watson said. “But she‘s not eating the food I brought her. I don‘t think she‘s feeling well.” “Keeping her alive is good enough,” Diarmuid coolly replied.
His wrath was not about to subside so easily.
After she had gone through such lengths to escape him, he just had to lock her up.
‘Let‘s see where she would run off to now!‘
Still, Mrs. Watson hesitated for a moment and pointed out, “I saw her injuries. Wouldn‘t her condition worsen if she‘s not treated?”
Diarmuid remained apathetic. “Leave her be.”
As he headed upstairs, Mrs. Watson breathed a long sigh
– she was not about to go against him, even if she felt sad for Abigail.
Moreover, Abigail was the one at fault.
How could she run away?
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.
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