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“Why don’t you go out for some air? I will talk to her,” his friend said, trying to soften his voice and shielding me from his intense gaze.
His friend was slightly taller than him. I wondered who was older.
Tristan gave me a murderous stare. He pulled away from his friend and walked out of the kitchen. I stared at his friend, who seemed relieved for some reason. I was kind of confused—not like anything today made sense. I stayed mute as his friend turned to look at me. His scrutinizing gaze didn’t intimidate me one bit.
“I get that you’re upset, Chloe. Anyone would feel that way, but all we ask for is a little time.”
“Do you know how absurd you all sound? I can walk out of here and get a pregnancy test to prove to everyone he is lying. I only need him to tell my family the truth.”
Technically, the plan was to come here and murder him.
“Why did he toy with my life like that? I wanna know! Am I not allowed to at least know why he picked me and ruined everything for me?”
“Soon, I promise,” he said softly, giving me a warm smile.
“Ouch!” I winced at the sharp pain squeezing my feet.
“I’m fine.” I held my hand up, stopping him as he moved to help me.
“Morris, where is my room?” I tried to hide the pain in my voice.
“You’re seriously injured, Chloe. Let me take you to the hospital to have it checked, or it will get infected.”
“No, I’m fine,” I refused.
“I insist,” he said, stepping closer. “I’m not about to let you die on my watch. Can I?” he asked, gesturing to my bloody feet.
I hesitated for a few seconds before nodding my head. He squatted close to my legs to have a look.
“That looks bad. I’m taking you to the hospital,” he said, standing up.
“My parents cut me off. I can’t afford it,” I said a little harsher than I intended.
“I will take care of the bill,” Tristan offered, walking into the kitchen.
He looked collected now, and it pissed me off that my actions were not getting to him.
“No, thank you,” I said, trying to fight off the pain.
“You will get an infection if you don’t get this checked,” Tristan said.
“And you’re losing a lot of blood,” his friend added.
They both stared at me, waiting for a reply, while I just stood there, glaring at them.
“So, what are you gonna do if I refuse? Force me?” I questioned. “I don’t care if I bleed to death. I‘d rather not live to see another miserable day.”
They exchanged a look, communicating through their eyes. Tristan approached me and took me in his arms before I could protest.
“Get a towel and meet me outside, Adrian,” he said, looking over his shoulder at his friend.
“If I die, just know you will never have peace. I’m going to go all horror movie on you,” I said.
“You’re not dying,” Tristan hissed.
“Scared you won’t survive one day of being haunted?” I said, and he shook his head at me.
Morris opened the back door to the black Lamborghini parked outside, and Tristan gently placed me on the seat, like I would break if he put more pressure.
