Chapter 9 She Was A Prisoner

The maid brought the medicine cabinet to the bedroom. Christian attended to Jessica’s wound himself.

There was just a tiny burn in Jessica’s hand, about the size of a grain of rice. But it seemed to him that the wound was grave enough to be bandaged up.

Jessica found it so amusing that she protested coquettishly, “Christian, don’t worry, it’s no big deal.”

“Be a good girl. The wound mustn’t touch water.”

Then he saw the woman wiping the floor on her knees.

He could see her exquisite nose and long eyelashes flickering like the wings of a butterfly.

A drop of crystal tear was falling down onto the floor which was instantly wiped away by her with a rag.

His heart was quivering for no reason. He was happy a moment ago, and now he was upset.

Damn, why did he feel sorry for her?

After clearing it up, Vivian hurried back to her room and locked the door. She immediately picked up the phone to call Patrick.

“Hello, Vivian, what’s wrong?”

Patrick’s voice was gentle. She was choking with sobs, “You, could you help me find a place to stay? I want to get out of here.”

She heard clothes rustling and it was Patrick sitting up. He asked in a serious voice, “Are they bullying you again? These bastards! Ok, I’ll arrange it right away!”

“I’m sorry,” Vivian cried, “I couldn’t think of anyone else who can help me, but you.”

Patrick paused, knowing that she was referring to their conversation in the hospital the other day. He had promised to take her away. They both knew what it meant.

She was trying to explain it to him because she wanted him to know she wasn’t taking advantage of him. It was just that he was her last resort.

Patrick sighed, “Don’t worry, we’re best friends. My preparation has begun. You may leave the house now.”

She was unaware that a dark shadow had been lingering at the door the whole time she spoke on the phone.

In the midnight, Vivian packed her things. Christian had gone to the company in the afternoon and wouldn’t return today. It gave her a perfect opportunity.

When she got Patrick’s text message, she carried her handbag and crept towards the gate.

Suddenly, the lights in the living room were turned on. Vivian’s eyes were too dazzled to open.

Jessica was looking down at her on the second floor with folded arms, “Sister, you claimed that you had nothing to do with the man. Now you are meeting him for a secret date at midnight.”

“I can go wherever I want. It’s none of your business.” Vivian quickly calmed down.

“But it’s my business.” Christian showed up at the door. He wore the same clothes as he had left the house in the afternoon. He was handsome, yet angry.

Petrified, Vivian stepped back. Christian grabbed her wrist and dragged her away.

The door of her temporary room was kicked open. Vivian was thrown into her bed.

Christian frowned. How could she be so underweighted? She was taller than Jessica, but lighter than her sister.

“Let go of me! I have the right of personal liberty!” Vivian struggled like crazy, tying to break free from his arms, “Why don’t you and Jessica live you own lives! You’ve won!”

“Don’t forget that you are Mrs. North. It’s a title you couldn’t take off without my permission.”

Just then, she suddenly felt that her ankles had been locked in something cold.

She looked down to find shackles on her ankles. They were mocking her overestimation of her strength.

“They’re custom-made, and only I have the key. Wherever you go, I can find you!”

Vivian stopped fighting, lying on the bed like a deflated balloon. When Christian thought she wouldn’t say a word again, he heard her cold voice.

“Christian North, I’ll never forgive you.”