Chapter 59 I Like Him
Emma snatched a tissue to wipe away the blood she just coughed up. She was freaking out, no clue why she was hacking up blood, but she sure didn't want George to see it.
"Are you trying to gross me out on purpose?" George's voice boomed, and he slammed his utensils on the table, the noise making her heart skip a beat.
"Emma! If you don't wanna eat, fine, but why mess up the meal I busted my butt making?" Scarlett's words cut deep, like a knife to the heart.
"Next time you come over, give me a heads-up so I can dodge you! I never wanna see you again!" Her voice dripped with disgust, making Emma feel totally wronged.
"Scarlett, chill out." Anna rushed over to calm her, but there was a smug look in her eyes. She shot Emma a knowing glance.
She knew Emma's tumor was in its final stages and surgery was a long shot. The spicy chili soup Emma just had was pushing her closer to the edge, and Anna closer to becoming Mrs. Russell.
What a sweet deal!
Right then, the pain in her stomach cranked up, like it was being ripped apart. Emma's body shook uncontrollably, her face going pale. She felt a wave of nausea, her throat burning, but she couldn't cough up blood.
She clamped her hand over her mouth, forcing the blood back down.
"George, chill. Emma didn't do it on purpose," Michael said calmly, showing some concern for Emma. "You okay?"
Emma's eyes filled with tears. In the end, the one who cared the most was someone she'd only known for a few days.
She fought back her tears and shook her head.
"I'm fine." Emma forced a weak smile, but her voice was barely a whisper, fading under everyone's gaze.
Her response just made George even madder. "When I talk to you, you ignore me, but when he talks, you jump to answer. Emma, you bitch!"
He grabbed Emma just as Charles's voice came from the stairs.
"What's all the noise about during dinner?" Charles, who had just woken up, looked less authoritative and more laid-back.
He smiled at George, who was holding Emma, and said with a knowing grin, "Finish dinner and head home early. I'm waiting for Emma to give me a grandkid!"
Grandkid? Charles's grandkid had died three years ago!
Emma's tears welled up but didn't dare to fall.
George felt Emma's trembling body. Did she really not want to have his kid?
Since she schemed her way into being his wife, she should be ready to be his wife for life. Now she wanted to run to another guy?
Dream on!
George swallowed his anger, pulled Emma close, and said with a fake smile, "Don't worry, Grandpa. We'll do our best!"
Emma knew George better than he knew himself. Hearing his tone, she knew George was beyond pissed!
George yanked Emma and turned around. As they passed Michael, George shot him a hostile look.
As night fell and the cold wind howled, Emma and George returned to the villa. The temperature inside seemed to drop along with her mood.
As soon as they got inside, Emma bolted to the bathroom and couldn't help but puke. Bright red blood mixed with her stomach's contents spilled out, and her face went ghostly pale.
Was she about to kick the bucket?
How much longer could she hang on?
She clamped her hand over her mouth, scared to make a sound that George might hear.
But over the sound of running water, George's voice suddenly cut through.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing," Emma replied, guilt all over her face, her eyes darting around, hoping he wouldn't catch on.
"Emma, how can you be so shameless? It's bad enough you disgust me, but now you're going after my family too?" George's tone got harsher, his eyes blazing with anger.
"You really make me sick!" George's rage exploded. He yanked her into the bathroom and turned on the cold water tap, the icy water pouring down instantly.
The freezing water drenched her, the chilling cold making her body shake uncontrollably. As the cold water hit her, Emma's consciousness started to fade, and the world before her eyes began to blur.
"Emma!" George's voice became distant, like it was coming through a thick fog.
George noticed that Emma had stopped struggling entirely. He finally stopped and gently lifted the trembling Emma. Her face was ghostly pale, completely drained of color, like a lifeless puppet.
George's hand gripped her shoulder tightly, his eyes filled with panic.
"Emma, can you hear me?"
Her body went limp in his arms, a wave of despair washing over her. She knew she couldn't take this life anymore.
"Emma, you can't die! Talk to me!" He shook her forcefully, his eyes full of urgency and anxiety. His heart raced, a sense of unprecedented fear pressing down on him.
But Emma stayed unresponsive, her cold body like a corpse.
George picked her up and placed her on the bed, hurriedly grabbing clean clothes to change her into. When he turned around, he saw Emma sitting up on the bed.
George felt a sense of being played. He threw the clothes to the ground and angrily walked over, grabbing Emma by the collar.
"Emma, you were faking it!" he snarled.
Emma's broken body felt even dizzier under George's violent shaking.
If it weren't for the sharp pain from her tumor, Emma might not have woken up.
Her narrow escape from death, in George's eyes, was just shameless pretending.
Seeing Emma awake, George continued to question her about her relationship with Michael.
"What is your deal with Michael? Why does he care so much about you? Answer me! Do you like him? Have you slept with him? Can't you live without a man? If you want sex so badly, I'll give it to you!"
George's eyes were cold, and in his drunken state, they were bloodshot and terrifying.
But Emma decided to push his buttons even more. She lifted her hazy eyes and suddenly smiled sweetly. "Yeah, I like him. He's gentler than you, and he cares about me. How could I not like such a good guy? Since you don't love me, I'll find someone who does."
"Emma!"
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