Chapter 513 Rage
As the door shut, enclosing them in the stifling room, his potent masculine fragrance nearly overwhelmed Winnie.
She felt depleted. "Get out," she demanded with little strength.
"I know you don't want to see me but you can't avoid me forever," Lawrence responded, his voice calm and collected.
Winnie's defenses crumbled. She spun around, her eyes filled with disdain, glaring venomously at his remarkably handsome face.
Yet his gaze, unlike her turbulent emotions, remained deep and steady as it moved from her face down to her neck and then to her stomach, a look of longing in his eyes.
Lawrence set down the insulated soup container and in a swift move, scooped her up and firmly placed her on the bed.
Winnie struggled fiercely, her body tensing in repulsion at his touch. "Let me go! How dare you show up here? Aren't you disgusted by yourself?"
In his arms, she thrashed like a frantic rat caught in a trap, her slender wrists pitifully frail against his strong hands. Her pale skin caught his eye as he let her vent her fury by punching and kicking him up close.
The blows that fell on him were oddly comforting, even satisfying.
A faint smile even played at the corners of his mouth. As long as she vented her emotions, rather than bottling them up and harming herself, he willingly took any beating she dished out.
Just as Winnie fiercely reached for a pillow to strike at his head, he gently stopped her as he cautiously rests a hand on her belly.
Seeing her confused look, he quickly shifted his hand away from her stomach. "Stop thrashing around."
Winnie slumped, feeling drained. She was drenched in a chilling sweat, her complexion drained of color, yet the man before her stood unfazed, displaying no trace of remorse. Her heart lay imprisoned in an icy grip, on the precipice of rage fueled by hatred.
As her tears spilled out, Lawrence panicked. He bent down and brushed away strands of hair from her face with his slender fingers.
Winnie couldn't stand it, her skin involuntarily twitched. "Don't touch me!"
She nearly bit through her lip in agony.
Lawrence's tone softened and with his voice low, he said, "I know how much you hate me but don't take it out on yourself. You know you need to pull yourself together right now. It's just that your body can't keep up. Come on, have some soup. Staying healthy is what matters most."
"You wouldn't even bat an eye if I were to vanish, would you? You must be thrilled, right? My father's in the ICU, unconscious, and suddenly Ishara has become the heiress to the Blanchet estate. Do you understand the deceit behind all of this? Of course, you do. You're siding with Ishara, part of her schemes. At this moment, Lawrence, I've never despised you more. Your heart is tainted."
Her words pierced him like a knife, aggravating his barely healed heart.
Lawrence stayed composed, his intense gaze captivating as he gracefully poured soup into a bowl. Enfolding his arm around her, he delicately supported her and with a gentle voice, he encouraged her. "You know, your father's shooting incident isn't simple. The treachery behind it means lying here won't help you fight back. Drink up, regain your strength and stop blaming the world."
"If it weren't for you, none of this would happen." Winnie's eyes were bloodshot with fury. In her eyes, he was an accomplice, Ishara's unseen partner in crime.
Lawrence's lips tightened. "If you believe that I'm with Ishara then stand up and take us both on."
Winnie didn't respond but her gaze affirmed her intent.
Lawrence gently anchored her agitated hand. Undeterred, he guided the spoon to her pallid lips, expecting her reluctance. He continued, "Jeremy delved into the incident. The police apprehended the suspect involved in Mr. Carlos's shooting, and the bullets matched those extracted from Mr. Carlos's body. The gunman confessed, asserting to be hired by a Blanchet family shareholder seeking vengeance on your father. That shareholder, merely a manager of a Blanchet branch office, has been taken into custody."
Having heard this, Winnie's face was a turmoil of emotions. Her gaze was icy, her laughter scornful. "A boss from the Blanchet family's subsidiary is after my dad for revenge? That doesn't make any sense. Is that how simply this case is closed?"
"Yeah, Patrick went to the precinct last night to handle the situation and reported it over to Mr. Blanchet Sr.," he replied.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, Lawrence spoon-fed her soup, his intense gaze penetrating her. "If the surface of the case doesn't satisfy you, then figure out a way to uncover the true story. Do you genuinely plan to let the Blanchet family off the hook so easily?"
Winnie clenched the bedsheets with such force her fingers contorted. She mocked him coldly, "I am well aware of who the true culprit is but from what position are you advising me? Encouraging me to pursue the truth, to hold onto the Blanchet family. Aren't you afraid your darling Ishara will be toppled by me in the end?"
She must have been provoked too harshly as Lawrence looked at her with concealed tenderness in his gaze. "She means nothing to me. Winnie, I hope you can pull yourself out of this mess soon. You need to find peace within and stay happy."
The potential life in her womb, the embryo, had yet to find a secure foothold and the constant stress she bore could jeopardize its existence at any given moment. Lawrence felt a knot of anxiety in his chest, an anxiety he couldn't express to anyone. Yet, as he gazed at her beautiful, fragile face, he was filled with longing, yearning to pull her into his embrace. However, he couldn't—she despised him now.
His words caused her heart to constrict, as if obstructed by an inexplicable discomfort. His habit of playing both sides was utterly reprehensible. He was aware that Oscar was in Ishara's custody, yet he proceeded with the engagement. He was just despicable beyond words.
After the engagement, he pretended to be supportive and said Ishara meant nothing to him. Nobody would believe his words. It just made him seem all the more callous.
"Thanks for your hypocritical encouragement which I do not need," Winnie said sarcastically. "Please keep out of my father's affairs, Lawrence. I will accept none of your help and remove those bodyguards you've posted outside his room."
Lawrence gripped her chin, forcing her mouth open to spoon another mouthful of soup.
His brows were knitted in frustration. "Don't be stubborn with me. Carlos needs the best international medical team. You know your own connections are limited and your medical skills are only good for internal medicine. As for the bodyguards, aren't you fighting for his care out of fear that the real shooter might strike again in the hospital? They only rest easy once he's dead."
His composed tone stirred waves of emotion in Winnie's heart. Indeed, she feared that Patrick and Eleanor would once again harm her father if he wasn't under her close watch which was why she was adamant about obtaining her father's guardianship.
He had seen right through her. She wished her father would wake up soon. Her own medical knowledge and resources were limited.
Winnie ceased fretting about the subject and made an effort to regain her composure. She mechanically consumed the entire bowl of soup, being spoon-fed by him, her movements as rigid as a puppet.
A hint of a smile played on Lawrence's lips. "Want something else to eat? You look starved."
She tried to pull away, her hand brushing against his chest, against the wound that still caused him pain.
His sudden pallor caught her off guard but she coldly ignored it and walked straight to Carlos's room.
Lawrence trailed closely behind. As Winnie faltered, he gracefully scooped her up into his arms, disregarding her protests, and fixed his gaze earnestly upon her – from her refined nose to her fair cheeks and the flowing strands of her dark, lengthy hair.
His heart softened and he whispered gently, "Get well soon. You no longer work for the Blanchet family. You've got to ensure your company, Triton Group, thrives, right? Don't give up on that piece of land for the golf course."
Winnie frowned. She found that his implications were unclear. The Rodriguez family agreeing to hand over the land to her was uncertain.
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