Chapter 7

Anthea stood in place, freezing and watching Harlan disappear in the thick smoke. Ten minutes later, a figure appeared in the smoke, staggering. Harlan was carrying Beatrice, who had passed out. The shirt on his back had turned to ashes because of the fire, and the skin on his back was a bloody mess. Beatrice was on his back with only some dust on the hem of her dress. Even her hair was not in a mess. "Call for an ambulance!" Harlan shouted as he dropped to his knees, but he carefully protected the woman in his arms. It was after he watched her getting carried away on a stretcher that he fainted. Anthea got a little teary-eyed, and she could not help but touch her chest. It did not hurt anymore. How great was that? It seemed like the wound in her heart after she ripped Harlan out of there had almost healed. … Anthea stayed by Harlan's side the whole night at the hospital. However, as soon as he woke up, he asked, "Where's Beatrice? How is she?" "She's fine. She left after her injuries were taken care of," Anthea replied calmly. Harlan let out a sigh of relief before it hit him that he had to explain himself. "Thea, I only saved her because I knew her. I don't want to die," he claimed. "I get it," she replied. He was taken aback. Then, he stroked her hair, thinking that she was convinced by his words. However, what Anthea understood was how much he loved Beatrice. He loved her so much that he was willing to lose his life for her. … In the next few days, Harlan stayed at the hospital, but he kept staring at the door. It seemed like he was waiting for someone. Anthea knew that he was waiting for Beatrice, but also knew that she would not come. She was just too good at playing hard to get. … Soon, Harlan was discharged without a visit from the person he wanted to see. There were only two days left until Anthea's wedding. Right after she bought her flight tickets in the car, Harlan suddenly mentioned that her birthday was around the corner and that he wanted to hold a birthday party for her. "Thea, who do you want to invite? You don't have many friends. The closest friend you have is my sister, but I've no idea where she is lately. She's going to marry into the Taylor family soon, so I don't want to restrict her too much. "Since she's not around, how about we invite those people from the class reunion? You're familiar with them," Harlan suggested. Beatrice was included in the people from the class reunion. Anthea closed her eyes, feeling tired. He was beating around the bush so much because he wanted to invite Beatrice. "It's your call," Anthea replied. … In the end, the birthday party was held on a cruise in an extremely luxurious manner. Harlan gave her a diamond necklace that cost a fortune, making the guests green with envy. They said he was spoiling her to no end. Anthea was the only one who saw that his gaze was glued to the figure in a white dress on the deck. In the next second, Beatrice walked up to her with a glass of red wine. "Happy birthday, Ms. Murphy." Anthea could feel Harlan's hand that was around her waist stiffened for a moment. "Thank you," she replied calmly. Beatrice's gaze landed on the necklace around Anthea's neck for a moment. Then, she "accidentally" stumbled, splashing her entire glass of red wine on Anthea's dress. "Gosh! I'm sorry!" Beatrice frantically took out a piece of napkin and apologized, "I didn't do it on purpose." "What are you doing?" Harlan asked with a frown. He sounded like he was reprimanding Beatrice, but he did not even glance at his girlfriend, whose dress had been dirtied. He did not even notice that someone had escorted Anthea away to get changed. Anthea looked at Harlan, who was still standing next to Beatrice. He looked like he was arguing with her, but he was trying to steal a few more glances at her. Anthea chuckled, laughing at how pitiful she was. A server had taken her to the cabin's hallway. Just as she was about to enter the changing room, a rough hand suddenly covered her mouth from behind her. She was dragged into the storeroom, where the pungent smell of sweat filled her nose. A shabbily dressed man pinned her against the wall, his eyes filled with a lecherous gaze. "Ms. Wilkin is right. You are beautiful." He pulled Anthea's collar and said, "She paid me to sleep with you, saying that she wanted your reputation to be ruined." He snickered. Ms. Wilkin? Beatrice? Anthea's mind went blank. She never thought Beatrice would be so wicked as to hire a beggar to take advantage of her.