Chapter 632 Searching
A flicker of fear flashed in Wanda's eyes, but the haze of the drugs quickly drowned it out.
"Get her outta here," Emma ordered the bodyguard at the door. "Find a secure place to lock her up. Don't let her escape."
The bodyguard nodded, lifting the limp Wanda and carrying her out of the basement.
Meanwhile, at Michael's mansion.
Celeste was carefully tidying up the study. Her slender fingers brushed lightly over each book on the shelf, but her gaze remained fixed on the colorful shell on the desk.
This was Michael's most treasured possession, supposedly a gift from Emma.
Celeste bit her lip, unable to resist picking up the shell. She gently stroked its smooth surface, her eyes filled with envy and jealousy.
She had given Michael a shell once, but it could never compare to Emma's.
She couldn't compare to Emma, and neither could her shell.
"If only this were from me," she murmured to herself.
Just then, the study door was flung open. Michael stormed in, his face dark. His suit jacket was off, and his tie hung loosely around his neck, exuding a dangerous aura.
"Who told you to touch that?" His voice was as cold as ice.
Celeste's hand trembled, and the shell slipped from her grasp, shattering on the floor.
Time seemed to freeze at that moment.
Michael's eyes turned violent. He strode forward and grabbed Celeste by the throat, pinning her against the wall.
"Do you have any idea what this is?" he roared, his grip nearly choking her.
Tears streamed down Celeste's face as she shook her head, unable to speak.
Michael suddenly released her, and she collapsed to the floor, coughing violently and clutching her throat.
"Get out," he said, turning his back to her, his voice full of disgust.
Celeste stubbornly got up, kneeling on the floor and trying to piece the broken shell together. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I can fix it."
"Fix it?" Michael sneered, kicking her hand away. "Do you think this is a toy?"
Celeste's hand throbbed with pain, but she refused to give up. "Michael, I..."
"Shut up!" Michael slapped her hard across the face, sending her sprawling to the ground, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.
Celeste clutched her face, her vision blurred by tears, but she still looked at Michael with a dazed expression. "I just wanted to help you."
Michael looked down at Celeste, devoid of any sympathy. He bent down to pick up the broken shell, his voice low. "You'll never be as good as her."
Celeste's heart felt like it was being torn apart, but she stubbornly said, "I know, but I'm willing to wait, to wait for you to look back at me."
Michael ignored her, leaving the study and leaving Celeste alone, curled up on the floor, silently crying.
After Michael left, the study fell into a deathly silence. Celeste knelt on the floor, her trembling fingers carefully picking up the broken pieces of the colorful shell. Tears blurred her vision, but she stubbornly tried to piece them together.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered to the shell, as if that could make up for her mistake.
No matter how hard she tried, the cracks on the shell remained glaring. Celeste bit her lip and made a sudden decision. She wiped away her tears and quietly walked to the window. Michael had only said not to leave through the door, not the window.
The night was deep, and Celeste climbed out of the window by moonlight. She wore thin clothes, and the cold ground beneath her feet felt like nothing. Her mind was set on one thing: finding a perfect match.
The cold wind by the sea was biting, and the waves crashed against the rocks with a dull roar.
There was no way to find a shell like that on the beach.
Out of options, Celeste looked at the endless sea and made up her mind. She took off her outer clothes and stepped into the dark water without hesitation. The icy water quickly rose to her waist, the cold making her shiver.
"I have to find it," she took a deep breath and dove into the water.
The sea stung Celeste's eyes, but she stubbornly kept them open, searching the dim seabed. Once, twice, three times... her lungs felt like they were going to burst, but she never gave up. Finally, on the seventh dive, she saw a familiar flash of color among the sand and rocks.
Overjoyed, Celeste swam over, but as she grabbed the shell, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen. Her vision went black, and she almost let go. Fighting the pain, she clung to the shell and surfaced.
Stumbling onto the shore, Celeste noticed warm liquid running down her legs. Looking down, she saw bright red blood trailing down her thighs, stark against the moonlight.
"No," she gasped, clutching her stomach, but the blood kept flowing.
Every step felt like walking on knives, but Celeste held tightly to the newly found shell, inching her way back to the mansion. Blood left a long trail behind her, gradually washed away by the rain.
When the soaking wet, blood-covered Celeste finally climbed back through the window into the study, the butler walked in. Seeing the scene, the old man was terrified.
"Ms. Phillips! Oh my God!" He rushed to support the staggering girl.
Celeste weakly smiled, trembling as she held up the intact colorful shell. "Gabriel, look, I found it."
Before she could finish, she blacked out and collapsed. Blood quickly soaked the carpet, and the precious shell rolled from her hand, glinting faintly in the pool of blood.
The butler frantically dialed Michael's number, his voice shaking. "Mr. Russell! Ms. Phillips, she fainted!She's covered in blood! You need to come back!"
There was a moment of silence on the other end, then Michael's cold voice came through. "Let her wait." The call ended abruptly.
The butler looked at the unconscious Celeste, tears streaming down his face. His hands trembled as he called for an ambulance, only to be told that due to the storm, it would take at least an hour to arrive.
Across the city, Michael irritably loosened his tie. He had decided not to care about that troublemaker, so why did he feel so uneasy?
He downed his drink, but it didn't quell the unease in his heart. A flash of lightning outside the window made him momentarily see Celeste covered in blood.
"Damn it!" Michael suddenly stood up, grabbing his coat, and rushed out.
When Michael kicked open the study door, the sight before him made his blood run cold. Celeste lay in a pool of blood, her face deathly pale. The blood-stained shell lay beside her, reflecting the harsh light.
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