Chapter 327 She's Just Playing You
That evening, a bright flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a heavy downpour.
Robert knelt in the rain, looking pale and out of it.
It had been seven hours.
The rain didn't help; he felt groggy and miserable, like he couldn't breathe.
Every breath brought water into his windpipe.
Robert shook, coughing harder each time.
His breathing mixed with the rain, choking him repeatedly.
Finally, he coughed up blood, which was splattered on the ground and washed away.
The blood on his lips made them look even more ghastly.
"Mr. Perot!" Zack dropped his umbrella and hugged Robert tightly, sobbing. "Please, let the doctor see you."
Zack, once a homeless man Robert had helped abroad, wished he could trade places with him. Before meeting Robert, Zack's life was hell, begging for food and getting beaten.
Then one day, a pair of shiny shoes kicked away his bully.
Zack, crushed on the ground, couldn't lift his head.
Robert extended a hand and asked, "Want to come with me?"
That day changed Zack's life.
Robert taught him boxing and self-defense, and they fought their way together.
Zack had sworn loyalty to Robert for life.
Zack's voice snapped Robert out of his daze.
He pushed Zack away, muttering, "Molly said... she'd give me a chance until she was satisfied."
That was all Robert could think about.
His throat felt like it was full of glass, and blood kept flowing from his mouth.
Even breathing was torture.
Every breath felt like thorny vines down his throat, hurting every organ.
The pain made death seem less scary.
"Mr. Perot. She's just playing you. Can't you see?" Zack cried.
"No way," Robert roared, his voice hoarse. "Molly wouldn't play me. She said she wouldn't, and she won't."
The rain poured harder, like it wanted to pierce through flesh.
Zack looked at Robert's pale, trembling body, his heart aching.
The fever and cold were too much, even for Robert.
The doctor had warned that Robert could have convulsions or worse, sudden death.
Zack could have knocked Robert out and taken him to the hospital, but after eight years together, he knew how stubborn Robert was.
If Zack did that, he might not be spared. But that was less important than the lifelong regret and sorrow it would bring Robert.
So, Zack couldn't go against Robert's wishes.
If Robert wasn't so stubborn, things with Molly might not have gotten so bad.
Despite all he'd done for her and his unwillingness to let go, things still didn't go his way.
Zack wiped his tears, turned, and left.
He couldn't let Robert throw his life away.
Meanwhile, at the top of the convention center, Molly had just finished a massage and fallen asleep.
When she woke up, Harper had left a message with the butler saying Agnes needed her.
Molly pulled open the curtains to see the storm raging outside. She realized she had slept for four hours, and a faint pain in her stomach reminded her she hadn't taken her evening meds.
She rubbed her temples, found her handbag, and accidentally dropped it, spilling five or six pill bottles.
Molly stared at the empty bag and scattered pills. Other women had cosmetics and accessories; she had endless pill bottles.
She had undergone a new type of partial gastrectomy with drug therapy.
It was an experimental treatment with uncertain results. Several trial participants hadn't made it past three months.
Molly was the only one who survived and passed the five-year high-risk period. But she wasn't cured; she'd need these meds for life. She also had to endure side effects like palpitations and vomiting, and she had no sense of taste.
Everything she ate tasted like wax, but she had to pretend it was delicious to fit in. The discomfort reminded her to take her meds.
Molly poured out the pills and swallowed them dry, the hard pills scraping her throat painfully. This pain, however, made her feel better.
The lack of taste and side effects made her feel like a walking corpse. But the pain reminded her she was still alive.
It also reminded her not to give up, as her enemy was still alive. She couldn't leave until they were buried in hell too.
A while later, Molly took the elevator to the underground garage.
She got in her car, fastened her seatbelt, and drove out.
Just as she reached the ground, a figure suddenly rushed out and threw themselves onto her red sports car.
A sharp screech of brakes pierced the air.
Luckily, the car wasn't going fast, but it still pushed the dark figure a short distance.
The car came to a sudden halt, and the person on the hood was thrown to the ground.
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