Chapter 191 Cries and Pleas
"You have to survive; do you hear me? That's my only demand of you, and you must fulfill it!"
With a smile, Marcus replied weakly, "I'll try my best."
He reached out, intending to touch her face, but his hand was drenched in blood, which would surely stain her skin.
So, he withdrew his hand.
"It's not 'try,' it's a must. I have to see you again," Isabella urged, "Promise me, Marcus!"
"Okay, okay," he coughed as another trickle of blood ran down his chin, "I... I promise you."
After he managed to painfully utter these words, a violent coughing fit overtook him.
His blood surged out like an open faucet.
"Stop, don't talk... I'm here with you; we'll wait for the ambulance... Marcus, why would you be so foolish?! You can't just block a knife!"
His reply was faint, "What... were you expecting? That I should not shield you?"
"Yes!"
"But how could I stand by and watch you get hurt?"
Through her sobs, Isabella proclaimed, "You're the biggest fool in the world!"
"And aren't you... a bit foolish too?" She cried, but Marcus was smiling, "I told you to run; I even pushed you away. You could have gotten away. Why did you come back?"
“I...I...” she faltered, her words jamming in her throat as she grasped his intent.
Isabella’s cries echoed down the entire alley.
The ambulance's siren pierced the air as paramedics rushed in and whisked Marcus away.
Scrambling to her feet, Isabella frantically wiped her tear-streaked face with her sleeve and hurried after the medical team.
But then...
A hand reached out with uncanny precision, latching onto her wrist and yanking her out of the throng.
Isabella found herself being pulled back forcefully.
All she could do was watch as Marcus was carried off into the distance, getting further and further away.
Anxiety knotted her voice, “What the hell are—”
“Isabella.” Sebastian’s voice, deep and resonant, filled her ear, “Do you think I’m invisible or something?”
Startled, she blinked.
Sebastian was still here. In her rush, she had completely forgotten about him.
She had only glanced at him briefly before Marcus’s injuries had monopolized her attention.
Now she remembered, he had been standing there all along, not moving an inch.
“Sebastian...” Isabella lifted her gaze to meet his, “Marcus is hurt.”
“I saw,” he said simply.
“But I—”
“Let’s go home,” Sebastian cut in, “Now.”
“But he’s so badly hurt, I...”
“He’ll live,” he interjected, “It’s not a fatal wound.”
“But there was so much blood...”
His expression chilled, his gaze colder than his demeanor suggested, “And? What’s your point?”
Instinctively, she replied, “I need to go to the hospital.”
“To stay by his side? To look after him? To wait for him to awake? And then, once he's discharged and you're touched by the ordeal, you two get back together?” He questioned, his tone edged with bitterness.
Only then did Isabella realize how alien Sebastian's eyes looked as they settled on hers.
So much had happened all at once that her head was about to explode; she couldn't keep her composure.
Sebastian gripped her hand tightly and led her away from the scene.
Like a puppet, Isabella moved listlessly, following Sebastian’s every command without protest.
Even as she sat in the driver's seat, she couldn't fasten her seatbelt; her hands, smeared with blood, were trembling uncontrollably.
It was Sebastian who reached over, steadying her shaky hand and securing the seatbelt with a precise click.
A quiet "click" resonated within the car.
All of Isabella's movements ceased. After a brief silence, she suddenly burst into inconsolable sobs.
Isabella wept as if her heart was being torn apart. Her hands covered her face while tears slipped through her fingers.
Sebastian sat silently in the driver's seat, motionless.
Offering no tissues and whispered words of comfort, he listened to her cries, his face devoid of emotion.
It wasn't until Isabella's cries turned hoarse, and her eyes became red and swollen that her tears finally ceased. Sebastian then started the car and floored it towards Willowbrook Estate.
After her outburst, Isabella's soul seemed to have been drained from her. She leaned back in her seat, staring blankly ahead.
Upon arriving at Willowbrook Estate, the butler was taken aback by the sight of blood on her and on Sebastian; he nearly fainted in shock.
"What in... What happened here?!" Stuttered the butler. "Mr. Lawrence, madam, this... this..."
Sebastian, gripping Isabella's wrist, strode forward and dropped a bombshell, "The blood isn't ours."
Only then did the butler's racing heart settle back into his chest.
If the blood wasn't theirs, that was a relief.
Otherwise, if the Lawrence family started asking questions, it would be him, the butler, who would take the fall!
But still...
The question arose, whose blood was it?
By the time the butler came to his senses and looked back, Sebastian and Isabella had vanished.
In the master bedroom.
Sebastian finally let her go, frowning deeply at her disheveled appearance, her wan face, and her red and lifeless eyes.
"Marcus took a hell of a hit for you... it was really something."
"Is he going to make it with all that blood he lost?"
"What would you do if he died?"
After a long pause, Isabella answered, "If he died, I'd spend my life drowning in guilt and remorse..."
"And if he didn't?" Sebastian's hand forced her chin up, making her look at him. "What then?"
"I owe him a debt I can't repay in this lifetime."
"You should take a knife for him too. Only then would you be even," Sebastian suggested. "Right?"
Isabella looked deeply into his eyes.
"Yes," she nodded. "How else can I repay such a reckless sacrifice? If you know a way, tell me."
Sebastian let out a mocking laugh.
It was unclear whether he was laughing at her or at himself.
"It's a beautiful thing," he replied, "being willing to lay down your life for each other."
Isabella asked, "Sebastian, if the day comes when someone risks their life to save you, how do you think you'll feel?"
He didn't answer.
"In this world, to have someone who values your life above their own... Isn't that a stroke of luck?"
"Enough!" Sebastian didn't want to hear anymore, and he mercilessly cut her off, "Go wash off all that blood and dirt properly."
Only then did Isabella look down at herself.
She was such a mess. She was covered in dust, mud, and was streaked with blood—no wonder the butler had looked so shocked and flustered.
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