Chapter 225 The Real Target is My Wife
Isabella locked eyes with Sebastian and met his deep gaze, "What do you mean by that?" She asked. Stealing a kiss from someone, what did that mean? Even middle and high school students would understand.
Sebastian listened to Isabella quietly.
After she finished speaking, he raised his hand, caressed Isabella's earlobe, and looked at her with a questioning gaze, "What do I mean? I don't know, maybe, this is l..."
Isabella seemed to know what Sebastian was about to say; her blood was boiling.
Sebastian's unwavering stare at her made her feel light-headed.
At this moment, she interrupted him, feigning innocence, "I understand. You mean, you don't know what I'm talking about, right?"
With that, she pushed him away, "I misunderstood you. I thought you stole a kiss from me. Ah, but how could it be? How could you do such a thing? I must still be dreaming."
Her gaze paused at the handprint on the back of Sebastian's neck. Isabella then quickly looked away.
The stolen kiss did happen; the handprint was evidence, and both of them knew it.
But Isabella could only play dumb.
Sebastian swallowed the words he originally wanted to say and patted Isabella's head, ambiguously saying, "I think I understand."
Understood what? Feelings?
Isabella couldn’t believe him, nor did she allow herself to entertain such thoughts.
Lynda's existence was no longer a thorn, but a knife, stabbing her heart every day. It hurt too much.
Who would dare to fight against his true love?
It was better for her not to have such hopes.
Isabella smiled hypocritically, "Oh, as long as you understand; I was just talking in my sleep."
Sebastian drew back his hand, as expected, a pain spread across his chest.
‘I hurt you, so you won't open your heart anymore, right?’ Sebastian thought.
Unfortunately, he didn't ask; he didn’t want to hear her answer either.
"I'm going upstairs." Isabella climbed up the stairs slowly.
Behind her, Sebastian's voice rang out again, "No matter what happens, no matter who it's about, tell me, and I'll help you, understand?"
Isabella responded with a sound, turned her head, and said thank you. She was distant but polite.
After that, she disappeared from Sebastian's sight.
Sebastian stood in the same place for a long time.
It wasn’t until the phone rang that he went upstairs.
"Lock him in the basement as fast as possible; I want to know the truth." It was unknown who was on the phone or what he was talking about, but when he squinted his eyes, he exuded a murderous aura.
This was destined to be a sleepless night.
In the master bedroom, Isabella tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Sebastian's words were like a lingering haunting tune, making her more and more alert.
Her restless heart was also beating more and more uncontrollably.
"Ah! What’s wrong with me?!" Isabella covered her head with the blanket.
Sebastian was not much better than her. The work that he could usually finish in an hour in the past not only dragged on until the night but also took an extra hour to complete.
Meanwhile, Isabella tried to clear her mind; she began counting sheep, trying to fall asleep as soon as possible.
With a baby on the way, she couldn't be willful in many things.
The annoying thing was, she had slept too much during the day.
So, no matter how many sheep she counted, she still couldn't sleep.
248 sheep, 249 sheep, 250...
"Click..." Sebastian opened the door and came in.
Isabella closed her eyes tightly as her heart jumped to her throat.
What was Sebastian here for? He wasn't going to come back to sleep, was he?
She thought he didn't intend to share a bed with her; why was he here? Isabella's throat was dry, and her breathing became rapid.
Sebastian was too clever, so Isabella relaxed her body and slowed her breathing.
Then, Isabella felt air pass over her head.
The blanket that had been covering her head was removed and tucked between her neck and shoulders.
A familiar scent wafted in her nostrils, similar to the taste that had been on her lips before.
Isabella didn't dare move at all.
Strangely enough, the bed beside her didn't sink.
"Click." The door closed.
Isabella opened her eyes; Sebastian had already left.
There was no sound of a car downstairs, indicating that Sebastian was still at Willowbrook Estate.
He should be in the other bedroom, right?
Didn't he admit that he was the kind of person who would give a hard time and then a moment of tenderness? Why was he also doing the opposite?
Teasing her a bit, then dousing her with a cold reality; he was really good at toying with her emotions.
Isabella turned to her side, curled up, and closed her eyes to sleep.
Sebastian went to the basement.
The basement was filled with a heavy, damp, and bloody atmosphere.
"Get over there and explain yourself!" A rough, fierce male voice echoed.
In an instant, two men, one tall and one short, both covered in blood, were kicked to their knees in front of Sebastian.
These were the same men previously hired by Grace.
Sebastian held an unlit cigarette between his fingers, rubbing it lightly.
He took a small step back and someone quickly placed a chair behind him.
Sebastian sat down in silence, leaning back in the chair with his eyes closed.
Even in such an environment, he exuded an air of nobility.
"Sebastian!" The taller man exclaimed in shock, his face pale, "No... Mr. Lawrence..."
The shorter man was also startled, his legs trembling in fear.
"Bang, bang, bang!" Both men knocked their heads on the floor, pleading for their lives. "Mr. Lawrence, we were just doing a job for money. Please spare us; we know we were wrong! It was all Miss Grace, all her!"
"Mr. Lawrence, please spare us; we were wrong; we shouldn't have hurt that man. It was an accident; we were supposed to go after that woman, that little wench!"
"Heh." Just when everyone thought Sebastian wouldn't speak, he laughed, "Wrong."
His laugh only induced more panic.
"Mr. Lawrence... please tell us where we went wrong; we'll correct it... we'll do everything we can to correct it." The taller man clung to Sebastian's leg, crying and pleading.
Sebastian looked at him coldly.
The tall man felt a chill run down his spine and quickly let go, prostrating at Sebastian's feet.
Sebastian crushed the cigarette, causing the tiny fragments to accumulate on the floor. He said lightly, "You've taken action, but the person isn't dead. Was that a mistake?"
This left the two men confused.
The shorter one was quicker; his eyes lit up as he hurriedly said, "Mr. Lawrence means..."
He seemed to have understood Sebastian's intentions, "If you let us go, we will definitely, definitely..."
But Sebastian laughed again, a laugh that made one's scalp tingle.
He threw the cigarette aside, stood up slowly, and unexpectedly stomped on the shorter man's head.
"M...Mr. Lawrence..." The short man was in too much pain to speak.
Sebastian leaned over, his voice light and casual, "So, the real target was my wife, huh?"
"What...what?"
"How did you just refer to her? That little wench? Quite an interesting term; I wouldn't dare to call her that."
Sebastian kept applying pressure as his shoes reflected a cold light under the lamp.
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