Chapter 19 You Disgust Me!

In the second day, when Sandra was up, it was completely daytime.
The ceiling was unfamiliar. She was surprised for a while then she remembered that she was in the rural house.
Last night, Clinton forced to have intercourse with her as soon as the anaesthetic expired.
Again and again, he fucked her and repeated bluntly regardless that how much he disgusted her.
Repeating also "when it's over, I won't let you go."
The other side was cold. The man was not in bed.
She bit her lips bitterly, and used her arms to support her body up. Then she saw Clinton was ready to go out, hand on the door handle.
She cleared her husky throat and spoke.
"You can't leave this house before the truce with the Wilsons is signed."
Clinton turned back upon her words, gazing at her with cold pressure, sneered.
"What truce? I never knew a servant could make decision for me?"
Her fingers were twisted to calm down.
"I just want to make sure they are safe."
He looked at her, abhorring, and then opened the door, left.
Slammed the door loudly.
Sandra got up slowly and went to shower, tired.
She knew he abhorred her very much.
Before she made decision, she had already prepared herself for it, hadn't she?
The woman in the mirror had a fair body, but some horrible scars at her bosom.
Those were carved during some missions in the past.
Last time when Clinton was on her, forcing her to intercourse, he took the blanket off her upper body to humiliate her.
"God knows what I see in you? These scars are as ugly as centipede, which repels me when I see them. How could I feel anything for you?"
Disgusting...
The light in her eyes dimmed. She got the hair to cover them up unconsciously.
After the shower, she went downstairs to make breakfast. Clinton was just back from the morning exercise.
The causal T shirt wrapped his streamlined body. Every movement of him spread glamor women would love.
Sandra saw him sitting at the table, using the fork to put a slice of egg into her mouth elegantly.
Then he put down the fork and knife.
She was nervous that it made her sound like pleading him carefully.
"So, you don't like it?"
In order to keep him custody, she tried her best to please him.
Clinton gave her a glance, arrogantly and condescendingly.
"You made me want to puke."
"...... "
As a sting pieced her heart, Sandra hesitated for a second and then put down the congee.
"Then enjoy your breakfast. I am full."
Then she walked upstairs in stiff steps, and closed the door quietly.
She consoled herself again and again that he hated her only because he was controlled by her, nothing else.
At the corner of his eyes, he could see her leaving, and felt even more upset.
To whom did she put on such a show pretentiously?
She thought it was reasonable to threaten him!?
But her pale face was showing up always in his mind.
He took a couple of bite of the toast and then tossed it onto the plate, making a long deep breath.
After quite a long time, the phone rang, he answered immediately.
"Did you find her?"
"Sir, we looked everywhere including the basement, but didn't find her."
"Scumbag! "Continue to search!"
Clinton had nowhere to release his anger so that he took it out onto the plates with a brush of his hand at the table. The plates fell to the floor, broken into pieces.
After such a chaos, no sound from upstairs.
That woman seemed not to take care of anything. It seemed it had nothing to do with her.
Clinton had a fire in his chest.
To keep him custody here but want to have nothing to do with him?
No way!
Clinton gritted his teeth and went upstairs, extremely unhappy.
The bedroom door was half closed.
He kicked the door open, without consideration for Sandra at all.
"You..."
When he was about to scold, but then the rest words were disappeared in his throat.
The woman was pale, shivering under the blanket with sweat covering her forehead, out of consciousness.
His heart suddenly missed a beat.
He rushed to the bedside, which was rare to him, and he patted her face.
"Stupid woman? wake up! How dare you pretend to sleep?"
Her skin was cold and damp, which made him uncomfortable.
The temperature reminded him of lifeless person.
"Death" came into his mind. Somewhere in his mind was strained.
He bent down to lift the woman and got surprised.
How could she be so light? As light as a thin feather.
He frowned his eyebrows, and his tone sounded urgent, which he even didn't notice.
"Sandra! Wake up!"