Chapter 213 She is Dying
As the group laid eyes on the newcomer—a guy with a cane who was struggling to move, they didn't feel threatened at all.
A sleazy, older guy scanned the disheveled yet beautiful Molly, then suddenly tugged her hair. "If you can't cough up the dough, you could always hook for us. With her looks, she could take care of a bunch of guys in one night to settle the score."
But before he could finish, a swift black and silver streak hit him square in the face.
A loud thud followed as the cane's base struck his face hard, whipping up a fierce wind. The silver decoration on the cane's end gleamed.
The guy spat blood and teeth, writhing in pain on the ground, his face contorted.
The onlookers were dumbfounded. They had never expected Robert, looking frail, to pack such a wallop. They backed off, too spooked to come near Molly.
But the show wasn't over yet.
Leaning on his cane, Robert strode up to the sleazeball and growled, "I warned you, hands off her."
With a smirk, he tightened his grip on the cane and brought it down hard. The silver base crashed onto the man's hand.
"Ouch!" The man screamed in agony, fearing his hand was wrecked.
Disgusted murmurs filled the crowd, with some covering their noses. The man had wet himself, leaving a stinking, yellow puddle on the ground.
A voice whispered, "Did Molly send muscle to scare us off? Think they can dodge paying up?"
Robert's gaze darted to the man, who quivered and backed away.
Drapping his suit jacket over Molly's shoulders, concealing her, he said, "Wait for them to respond before deciding how to demand repayment. Do it legit, not like this!"
Amidst conflicting emotions, Molly fought back laughter and bile. The hypocrite who had caused this mess was sermonizing on collecting debts from people he had harmed!
She clenched her fists, battling a surge of rage, "The Koch family will cough up. We have assets to cash. Just give us time."
A voice heckled, "Your cash flow is busted. Can't even pay back the bank's $50 million. How'll you pay us?"
"We promised repayment, and we'll keep it," Molly pronounced, peeling off Robert's jacket in disgust and tossing it into the trash.
Ignoring his frown, she continued, "You won't squeeze money out here. Wait, there'll be an explanation."
Robert's eyes flashed with anger as he glared at the discarded jacket, stomping his cane hard.
"Get out of here!" His black-coated guards materialized, dispersing the crowd. The man, missing teeth and a crushed hand, was hauled away too.
"Wait!" Molly called after him, a sly glint in her eyes. "Don't forget what you just said. I'm waiting for you to introduce me to some wealthy men."
Robert scowled, "Molly, have you no shame?"
Her tattered outfit adjusted, a mischievous smile played on her lips. "Mr. Perot! You aimed for my downfall, right? Watching my struggle satisfy you?"
Robert's expression darkened, staying silent.
Initially excited by his plan, now only loathing for this woman remained. He despised her lifestyle and constant flirtations with other men so much that he wanted to chain her up and control her every move.
"Get lost, Mr. Perot. We're miserable as it is. No need for your visits; just tune in to our misery on TV!"
After saying that, Molly felt drained, everything seemingly futile.
God hadn't intervened once.
She stood straight, but she knew her spirit had completely collapsed.
What could be more despairing than pushing her entire family into hell with her own hands?
She felt suicidal, drained by the weight of leading her family into darkness.
But it wasn't time for her to die.
With everything set, maybe on a sunny day, she'd walk into the ocean and vanish.
"Molly! Stop!" Robert bellowed.
Ignoring him or not hearing him, she wandered aimlessly, her mom in the ER, dad unattended.
She needed to find help for them, and to cover their bills, in a way she didn't know yet.
Suddenly, Robert grabbed her wrist, his eyes ablaze. "I said stop!"
"Our deal's done!" Molly shook free, refusing to meet his gaze.
But in the next moment, he pulled her close.
Gazing into her eyes, he stammered out words he struggled to believe. "It doesn't have to be finished."
Molly regarded him impassively.
Surprisingly, Robert's expression softened slightly. "You can plead."
"Plead?" Molly's smile was tinged with pain. "Beg you for what? To spare us and continue our secret rendezvous? Allow you to degrade me, plunge us into hell again?"
Her smile turned bitter. "Robert, no more tricks."
She knew her resistance was in vain. Hope had vanished, her only concern ensuring her parents' peace.
"Don't touch me, you make me sick!"
As Molly pushed away, she accidentally pressed against his wounded shoulder. Robert winced, blood soaking through the bandage, drenching his shoulder.
Her loathing felt truly palpable.
Robert's thin lips pressed into a firm line as he, momentarily disregarding his wound, hauled her into an empty lounge, securing the door behind them.
Without hesitation, Robert forcefully pushed Molly down onto the frigid floor, his voice chillingly composed. "Molly, it seems you've forgotten the horrors of being violated by a man you despise."
With a deliberate move, he raised his hands, loosening his tie, a sign fraught with dread for Molly. She attempted to rise and flee, but Robert clasped her ankle, yanking her back, the impact sending a jolt of agony through her chest.
Unperturbed by the squalid floor, Robert pinned her down, grasping the nape of her neck, his hot breath grazing her ear as he declared menacingly, "Remember, destroying your entire family is as effortless as squashing an ant for me."
Robert knew precisely how to strike where it hurt the most.
In the face of this insidious threat, Molly ceased her resistance. Her life had been a tale of sorrow, with death holding no fear for her; however, her parents didn't deserve to suffer the same fate.
A passive Molly, akin to a lifeless fish, drained Robert's zeal. With a cruel twist, he directed her face towards him. "You aspired to be a sex worker, did you not? Start now. Impress me, and I shall compensate you."
He produced a card, his tone frigid. "One night with me, and you'll have this!"
As the card slapped humiliatingly against her face, Molly's chest heaved wildly, the air seeming thin and unforgiving.
His actions solely aimed at trampling her dignity. The more she clung to her sense of self-worth, the more excited Robert grew, relishing in her torment.
Since that was the case, she might as well let go of her worthless dignity and disgust him as much as possible.
With a sudden radiance in her demeanor, Molly's lips curled in a smile, her words laden with sarcasm, "Mr. Perot, how generous of you. What of our past dealings? Since you deceived me, the agreement is null. Before…"
Molly, struggling to recall the specifics, feeling a headache approaching, proposed, "A package deal: $5 million. Resolve the outstanding issues first, or no deal."
Robert's gaze turned icy, fixed on her. "Do you truly believe you're worth $5 million?"
Molly, shedding any remnants of pride, retorted with a smile, "What, the wealthy and powerful Mr. Perot wants to renege on his debt? $5 million is a conservative estimate. Pay up if you dare!"
Reclining on the icy floor, she appeared oddly serene.
"Don't say I didn't warn you. If you don't pay me and force me to sleep with you, all you'll get is an emotionless corpse."
Molly's every word centered around financial transactions, reducing their relationship to a business transaction. This only intensified Robert's revulsion and animosity. Indeed, she remained the master of manipulating emotions.
Despite enduring great suffering, he would never again fall for her deceptive facade.
"Molly, you are even more contemptible than I thought!"
His words held no sway over Molly; she had become numb to the pain.
Robert's eyes shimmered with fury, his fingers gripping her slender frame as he pulled her closer, his tone chilling, "I'll pay you! But you must be worth it!"
With a steely grip, he clasped her neck and engaged in a forceful and violent kiss, not an act of love but one of dominance. In his frenzy, he tore at her clothes, disregarding his injury. He seemed possessed, his actions brutal.
Tears streamed down Molly's face, a blend of agony and loathing. Why did he insist on subjecting her to this torment? Her disgust for him only deepened.
A sudden knock ruptured the tense environment. Quinn's voice resounded from outside.
"Robert, are you in there?"
"Robert, please come out and stay with me."
"Robert…"
Quinn's knocks persisted. In Robert's haste, he had stationed guards at the door, yet none dared impede Quinn, well aware of her significance.
Quinn's voice remained considerate, aiming to preserve Robert's dignity. Yet the cacophony within rang clear to her ears.
That wench Molly seemed to be enticing Robert once more. Even in a setting as sensitive as a hospital, she remained insatiable.
Within, Robert showed no inclination to cease. It seemed like an eternity since he had last been intimate with Molly. Her absence left his desires unquenched, her presence akin to addictive elixir. To him, she was the only remedy for the inexplicable void within him, and jer apparent rejection spurred him more to conquer her through physical intimacy.
Quinn's complexion paled, realizing the implications of the situation. Should she linger, it would only serve to humiliate her.
Recalling a prior instance when she overheard Robert contemplating the cancellation of the plan, yet, Quinn had preemptively rectified the situation by reversing problematic Koch Group orders, fueling collective fury.
Robert's restlessness, his rebuff to accompany her, and his obstruction of Molly boarding the ship that day contributed to Quinn's disquiet. Had him been shielding Molly from harm, preventing her boarding?
The prospect rattled her to the core. Was his renewed attentiveness towards Molly indicative of his resurging affections? What if his findings revealed Molly, not her, as his benefactor? The consequences seemed dire.
Staring at the obstruction separating them, a sense of malice enveloped Quinn.
In side the room, Molly's countenance bore an abnormal hue.
Robert's harsh facade wavered when Molly began convulsing violently, a wave of fear washing over him. Panic etched his features as he sensed something terribly wrong, reaching out to touch her clammy forehead, chilled like a block of ice.
"Shit, Molly!" Robert exclaimed, his voice betraying a tremor he couldn't hide.
Relief barely brushed him as her convulsions quieted, but horror replaced it as blood gushed from her mouth in a crimson tide, staining her tear-streaked face.
His heart plummeted as panic gripped him, disregarding the searing pain in his shoulder, ditching his cane to scoop Molly up.
"Molly, goddamn it! Hang in there!" His voice shook with raw urgency, a mix of fear and desperation leaking through.
Outside the room, Robert's pacing matched his frantic thoughts, each step echoing his turmoil while he clung to a crumbling facade of indifference. The reality struck like a meteor, searing away all thoughts but one - Molly's well-being.
While doctors whisked Molly away, urgency palpable in their every move, Robert stood there, heart thundering like a racehorse, every second an eternity as he wrestled with his emotions.
Admitting worry felt like surrender, a weakness he couldn't afford. His panic stemmed not from care but from a gnawing fear that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't tormented her enough.
The surgical door swung open, jolting him from his whirlwind of self-reproach. A nurse hastened towards him, her eyes grave. "Are you family? Your wife's critical. We need your consent for emergency surgery. Sign here, please."
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