Chapter 7

Stanley's expression turned terrifyingly dark, veins bulging at his temples. He seized Tessa's wrist with such force that it made her wince. He roughly dragged her back into the room before throwing her onto the bed. "Are you that desperate, Tessa? Why did you bring a man here?" Tessa had no strength left to explain. She was already consumed by despair and pain. Gazing at him, Tessa abruptly showed a hollow, broken smile. "If you can be with other women, why can't I be with other men?" Enraged beyond reason, Stanley pressed her down and claimed her lips. He bit with cruel intensity, and soon, the metallic tang of blood filled their mouths. "How dare you?" As Tessa felt blood rise in her throat, she shoved him aside, turned her head, and coughed up a torrent of blood onto the bedding. Stanley froze for a brief moment, staring at the blood. There was a brief pause in his expression before the usual sneer of derision settled on his face. "How long are you going to keep this facade up? "You haven't paid for your sins yet, you hear me, Tessa? I want you to suffer for the rest of your life!" He grabbed her chin, cruelly pinching it. "And if you ever bring another man home again, I'll make you wish you were dead!" He then mercilessly dragged her off the bed and out of the villa. "If you're so full of energy, you might as well spend the night here wide awake!" It was early winter. The wind was bitter, and she wore only a thin nightgown. By midnight, the sky began to drizzle icy rain. Before long, rainwater had soaked her from head to toe. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably, and her consciousness gradually faded. The next few days, she fell gravely ill, lying weak in her room. Stanley never came to see her again. Then, one day, she heard Clarissa's terrified, tearful voice from downstairs. "Stanley! What should I do… I… I killed someone!" Tessa struggled over to the staircase and saw Clarissa trembling in Stanley's arms. Stanley gently patted her back to calm her. "Don't be afraid. Tell me what happened slowly." Sobbing, Clarissa explained that when she went to college to pick up her graduation certificate that day, a guy who had been persistently harassing her tried to assault her, and she had accidentally pushed him into the lake during their struggle. The guy hit his head on a rock, which left him in a vegetative state. Now the family had reported it to the police, and she feared being arrested. Stanley fell silent for a moment. "Don't be afraid. I'll handle it. Go through the questioning first. I'll come get you in a few days." Clarissa cried even harder. "I don't want to! I've never been to such a place… I'm really scared! Stanley, I don't want to go!" Stanley furrowed his brows. As he shifted his gaze to the pale Tessa at the staircase, a cold and decisive look appeared on his face. "Tessa, you go." Tessa looked at him in disbelief. "You'll take the blame for Claire." His tone brooked no argument. "Say it was you who pushed him." Tessa opened her mouth, trying to think of what to say. "I…" Stanley's eyes sharpened. "You don't want to? Then I'll have you dragged there myself!" Tessa's fingers trembled. The man who had once treasured her was about to put her behind bars for another woman, and she had to accept it helplessly. A spasm of pain shot through her heart. She eventually lowered her head without a word. And so, she took the fall for Clarissa and was locked in a detention center for three whole days. The darkness, dampness, cold walls, sour food, and occasional shoves and malicious glares from other inmates made every second stretch into years. She curled up on the hard bed, feverish, but she gritted her teeth and said nothing. On the afternoon of the third day, the iron door finally opened. She staggered out, almost collapsing under the sunlight's harsh glare. Waiting outside was not Stanley but his assistant, Owen Reed. When Owen saw how pale and frail she looked, a barely perceptible look of sympathy crossed his gaze. Nonetheless, he still spoke in a businesslike manner. "Mr. Frey sent me to pick you up." He opened the car door and waited until she was seated before starting the car. After a moment of silence, he said, a touch softer than before, "Ms. Sutton was… diagnosed with severe heart failure a few days ago. Her condition is critical. "Mr. Frey has spared no effort recently, searching globally for a compatible heart donor." He paused for a moment, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. "Mr. Frey wants you to behave and not cause trouble once you return home. At the moment, he can't afford to spare any attention elsewhere."