Chapter 594 Punishment
Michael was quiet for a moment, then suddenly reached out and touched her forehead. "You don't look so good. Go take a hot bath. I'll have someone get it ready for you."
Warm water poured over her, but Emma still felt a chill. Celeste's scared eyes, Michael's intense stare, and the strange feeling of unease kept swirling in her mind.
"Michael, who are you really?" she whispered, her fingers tracing circles on the foggy mirror.
A gentle knock came from the door. "Emma, the soup's ready."
Startled, Emma quickly dried off and changed into her pajamas. She opened the door to find Michael standing there with a tray, the warm light casting a soft glow on his chiseled features.
"Drink it while it's hot." He placed the tray on the bedside table and tucked her in with care.
Emma sipped the soup slowly, while Michael sat by the bed, watching her in silence. The quiet made the atmosphere feel a bit tense.
"Michael," she suddenly spoke, "if someone was hiding something important from you, what would you do?"
Michael's eyes flickered briefly before he smiled. "Depends on what it is." He reached out to tuck a strand of her damp hair behind her ear. "Why do you ask?"
"Just curious." Emma lowered her head, avoiding his gaze.
Late at night, half-asleep, Emma heard faint footsteps outside her door. She opened her eyes and saw a shadow lingering under the door.
"Who's there?" she whispered.
The shadow disappeared immediately. Emma got up and quietly opened the door. The hallway was empty, except for a sliver of light coming from Celeste's slightly ajar door.
She tiptoed over and heard muffled sobs from inside. Just as she was about to knock, she heard Michael's low voice:
"Celeste, you know what I hate the most."
Emma's hand froze in mid-air.
"Michael, I really just have a stomachache."
Emma held her breath, pressing her ear to the door. Celeste's voice trembled, like a cornered animal.
"Is that so?" Michael's voice turned gentle, yet it sent chills down her spine. "Then why can't you look me in the eye and say that?"
At that moment, Emma felt a light tap on her shoulder. She nearly screamed but turned around to see the maid, Eloise, looking at her with just the right amount of surprise.
"Ms. Jones? What are you doing here so late?"
Their conversation alerted the siblings inside. Michael opened the door, looking puzzled at Emma.
Emma's heart raced. "I heard a noise and was worried about Celeste."
Michael's expression softened immediately. He reached out to smooth her disheveled hair. "You're too kind. Celeste just has a stomachache. I was bringing her some medicine."
As if to confirm his words, Celeste appeared at the door, eyes red, clutching a box of stomach medicine.
"Emma," she forced a smile, "sorry to disturb your rest."
Michael naturally wrapped an arm around Emma's shoulders. "Since neither of you aren't feeling well, I'll arrange for a doctor to come tomorrow for a full check-up."
His voice was unbelievably gentle, his fingers lightly caressing Emma's shoulder. "The weather's been unpredictable lately. It's better to be safe."
Emma looked up at him, his always-smiling eyes now filled with concern, making her momentarily doubt herself. Maybe she was overthinking things?
"Okay," she replied softly, not noticing Celeste's face turning pale.
Michael nodded in satisfaction. "Then get some rest. The doctor will be here first thing in the morning." He turned to Celeste. "You should rest too. Don't push yourself."
Back in her room, Emma lay in bed, unable to sleep. Michael's gentle voice and Celeste's fearful eyes spun in her mind like a carousel.
"Maybe I am just being too sensitive," she murmured, turning over.
Outside, the cold moon hung high, casting shadows through the trees. The mansion was eerily quiet, with only the antique clock at the end of the hallway ticking rhythmically.
Once Emma's room light was off, Michael's gentle demeanor vanished. He grabbed Celeste's wrist with such force that it seemed he might crush her bones.
"Come with me." His words were as cold as ice.
Celeste didn't dare resist, stumbling as she was dragged to the basement. With each step down, her heart sank further. When the heavy iron door closed behind her, she couldn't stop trembling.
"Michael, I really didn't..."
"Shut up." Michael released her, calmly removing his watch. "Do you think I'd believe such a pathetic lie?"
He snapped his fingers, and two bodyguards emerged from the shadows. Celeste closed her eyes in despair, knowing what was coming.
The sound of the belt striking her body echoed painfully in the empty basement. Celeste bit her lip hard, refusing to scream. The taste of blood filled her mouth, but all she could think was: Michael must never find out about the baby.
"What are you hiding from me?" Michael sat in a chair, legs crossed elegantly, as if watching a performance.
Curled on the floor, drenched in cold sweat, Celeste whispered, "Nothing."
Another brutal kick landed on her abdomen, making her vision go black. Instinctively, she turned, letting the blow hit her hip instead.
"Still tough, huh?" Michael sneered. "We'll see how long you can keep this up after tomorrow's check-up."
He stood, looking down at her. "Lock her up. Take her to the hospital in the morning."
Once everyone left, Celeste dared to gently touch her abdomen. The intense pain made it hard to breathe, but more terrifying than the physical pain was the thought of the upcoming check-up.
"Baby, I will protect you," she whispered through her tears, curling up in the darkest corner.
A sliver of moonlight from the ventilation shaft illuminated her bruised arms.
"I'm sorry, baby," she apologized to the empty air. "I might not be able to protect you."
As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the vent, Celeste knew the nightmare was about to begin. She forced herself to stand, straightening her clothes to hide the bruises.
The sound of the iron door opening made her shudder.
"Ms. Phillips, Mr. Russell wants you to get ready. We're leaving for the hospital in half an hour," the bodyguard's voice was devoid of emotion.
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