Chapter 1157



“L-Lucas… W-What’s happening?” she stammered.

Lucas let out a low, derisive chuckle, his expression darkening, his voice as cold as ice.

“Lucas? You think you have the right to address me so casually?”

His grip around her throat tightened.

“You must have a death wish,” he said coldly.

“Please—Mr. Clark—I was wrong!” Sarai choked out, sheer panic flashing in her wide eyes.

At this point, she understood everything.

Lucas had never been drugged. He had been putting on an act all along.

But the real question was—how had he anticipated her plan so precisely?

And how did he identify the exact substance she used?

Had he been aware of her scheme from the very beginning?

No… That couldn’t be possible!

Yet she had no time to dwell on these terrifying thoughts. Lucas’s fingers coiled around her throat like an unrelenting vice, stealing the very breath from her lungs.

“Mr. Clark… Please… Stop this…” Sarai wheezed, her hands clawing desperately at his iron grip. The veins in her forehead bulged, her vision blurred, and a suffocating darkness began to creep in.

Her face looked both agonized and grotesque.

Lucas’s gaze was filled with pure contempt.

𝕆𝖗𝗂𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖆𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖔𝗇 gⲁⅼ𝗇𝗈ν𝖊𝗅𝘀․𝚌𝗼𝗆 Then, without warning, he shoved her away with such force that she crashed onto the floor, landing painfully on her tailbone.

Air flooded back into Sarai’s lungs in violent, agonizing gulps. She clutched her throat, coughing uncontrollably, her body wracked with tremors.

Pain lanced through her limbs.

She then lifted her head, her terror-stricken gaze locking onto Lucas.

But Lucas… Lucas wasn’t even looking at her. Instead, he retrieved some tissues and meticulously wiped his hands, his movements slow. He wore a dark expression, as if he had just touched something disgusting.

That single action stung Sarai deeply.

Her complexion drained of all color.

Humiliation burned in her chest, yet she dared not make a sound. She remained motionless on the cold floor, too paralyzed with fear to even breathe too loudly.

At the Grand Plains General Hospital, Belinda sat beside Holley, accompanying her for an MRI scan.

“How are you feeling now?” Belinda asked, her voice level but distant.

“Much better… But I still feel a little lightheaded,” Holley admitted, her face pale.

Belinda remained silent, her gaze fixed on some distant point, her delicate features unreadable.

“I’m sorry, Belinda. I ruined your meal,” Holley murmured, remorse thick in her tone.

Still, Belinda didn’t respond.

From the moment they left the hotel until now, an oppressive weight had settled in her chest, as though invisible hands were squeezing her heart.

The truth was undeniable. Between her and Sarai, her mother had chosen Sarai.

.

.

.