Chapter 453 The Lonely Tide
I looked into Anne's eyes, filled with deep concern, trying to keep my tone calm, but couldn't help the bitterness that crept in.
"His wound's still bleeding. He got too worked up when he saw the flowers earlier, and the monitor alarm went off."
Anne's eyelashes trembled violently, and a tear slid down her sunken cheek, leaving a dark stain on the pillow. She shook her head with difficulty, her cracked lips quivering. "It's my fault. If it weren't for me that day..."
"Don't talk."
I interrupted Anne impatiently, reaching out to gently wipe away her tears.
Anne stubbornly grabbed my hand, her grip weak but insistent. "Diana, please tell him I'm sorry."
Her voice was so low it was almost inaudible,
"And tell him to take care of himself."
Thunder rumbled outside the window. I looked at Anne's pale face and the shocking bruises on her exposed body, finally understanding why Edward didn't dare to see her. Seeing her like this would hurt him more than any wound.
Anne's eyelashes fluttered as her fingers brushed over the rose petals. "Please tell Edward that when I get out of the hospital, I want to treat him to something nice."
"I'll tell him."
I said softly, taking Anne's bedside card and looking at it before putting it back in the slot.
The scent of roses lingered in the room, no longer glaring but making the pale scene even more poignant.
Anne's voice was delicate, her eyes glancing at my blood-stained cashmere sweater. "Diana, you need to take care of yourself, too."
Her words made my temples throb.
"Don't worry about me."
I forced a cold smile,
"You should be more concerned about your situation. I heard the police are now hunting down Nicholas and Jeffrey."
Last night, the news reported that Nicholas's mansion was raided by the police, and Jeffrey's photo was at the top of the wanted list.
Anne lying in the hospital room was clearly a discarded pawn. Now she was trying to win Edward's favor, just grasping at a new lifeline.
Anne's smile froze, her hands clutching the sheets. The monitor's sound suddenly became piercing, and she turned her head to look out the window. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Save the innocent act for someone else."
I stepped closer, seeing the bruises on Anne's neck,
"You sent flowers just to cling to a new protector. Why put on a show of deep affection in front of me?"
The air fell silent. Anne suddenly laughed softly, her voice broken and hoarse. "You think I want this?"
Anne suddenly threw off the blanket, revealing the hideous burn scars on her legs,
"Do you know what kind of life I've been living?"
I froze, my gaze sweeping over the needle marks on Anne's wrist, signs of long-term sedative injections.
Rain poured outside, her voice mingling with the sound of the rain. "I was just a tool for them, now discarded like trash."
As I got up to leave, Anne's fingers clung to my clothes, like a child afraid of being abandoned.
I suddenly realized I might never have truly understood her. Anne's curled-up figure on the hospital bed overlapped and tore apart the image of her standing arrogantly beside Nicholas in my memory, finally becoming a blurred shadow.
Just as I hesitated, Anne suddenly started coughing violently, the monitor's alarm blaring sharply.
Her pale face was full of pain, her hands weakly clutching the sheets. I couldn't think anymore, rushing out to call the doctor. After emergency treatment, her condition finally stabilized, but she remained unconscious.
My phone vibrated in my pocket; it was a message from Edward. "Is she okay?"
I looked at the weak Anne on the hospital bed and impulsively reached out to check her pulse, tucking her blanket in.
My fingers unconsciously rubbed the bloodstains on my clothes, the rough texture of the cashmere sweater suddenly felt scorching.
At that moment, I looked at the needle marks on Anne's wrist, memories of swallowing painkillers alone at night suddenly surged up. It turned out we were both fighting loneliness in different ways.
The green light from the monitor cast flickering shadows on the wall. I impulsively sat in the chair beside her, taking out a wet wipe from my bag to gently clean the dried tears on Anne's face.
"We're the same."
I murmured to the sleeping Anne, a metallic taste rising in my throat. A thunderclap outside illuminated the room starkly, casting our overlapping shadows on the wall. In this cold world, we were just driftwood struggling in different waves.
The sound of the metal door handle turning pierced the stagnant air, six men in black suits almost burst into the room. The leader had a centipede-like scar on his throat, and as his shoes scraped the floor, I heard the monitor wires twist and deform underfoot.
"Ms. York needs to come with us."
He spoke with a breath reeking of alcohol mixed with smoke, his gaze sweeping over Anne's exposed ankle, still marked by the red scars from chains. I stepped back, my back against the bed rail, fingers unconsciously rubbing the cold metal edge of Anne's bedside card.
"Who are you?"
My voice was steadier than I expected, but my heart leapt to my throat when I saw the gun-shaped bulges at the waists of two of the men. The scarred man pulled open his collar, revealing a flame tattoo on his collarbone, Nicholas's mark. Behind him, a bearded man tore off Anne's call bell.
"This doesn't concern you."
The scarred man drew a cold, gleaming butterfly knife, the blade pressing against my neck, "One more word, and I'll..."
Feeling the sting on my neck, I instinctively dodged, grabbing his wrist and twisting his arm behind his back. The metal knife clattered on the tile floor, and the other five men lunged at me. My cashmere sweater tore, and I heard my phone screen shatter in my pocket.
At the critical moment, steady footsteps echoed down the hallway. Lucas, tall and imposing, appeared at the door with Lila and several bodyguards, his presence suffocating. The bodyguards quickly raised their guns, creating a standoff with the men in black, the room falling into a tense silence.
"Mr. Jackson, this is Nicholas's order."
The scarred man broke free from my grip, a sinister smile on his lips,
"Don't forget, Anne begged Nicholas to take her in."
Lucas's eyes turned icy, his aura terrifying.
"Tell your boss,"
Lucas's voice was low and firm, pulling a cufflink engraved with the family crest from his pocket, slowly turning it in his hand,
"I've frozen his account at the Swiss bank."
With those words, the bodyguards simultaneously cocked their guns. The scarred man stared at the cufflink, his Adam's apple bobbing twice, finally signaling a retreat. Before leaving, he deliberately knocked over a wheelchair, the metal frame screeching against the floor.
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