"Agree, and I'll give you 100 billion dollars!"
The nocturnal darkness was like ink, and his raspy voice mingled with heat echoed overhead.
What followed was a series of abrupt movements, every touch of his fingers carrying an absolute sense of invasion.
Raquel Hardin didn't have time to resist. The next moment, her wrist tightened, and her whole arm was lifted against the wall.
A torrid night.
In the wee hours, Raquel woke up from her sleep. Her body sank heavily, aching indescribably.
When she turned her head and saw the man beside her, she realized that last night was not a dream.
His delicate eyebrows were deeply furrowed.
She was three years into a marriage commitment and had been living like a widow for two years and nine months, but at the point when the marriage contract was about to be dissolved, she had sex with a stranger!
Thinking back to what happened just a few hours ago, Raquel's anger flared, and she got up prepared to settle accounts with the man.
However, as soon as she moved, she felt a sticky residue on her hand. It was only when she approached the window and shined the street light on it that she saw it clearly.
Blood!
Raquel looked in astonishment at the man on the bed, his shoulder dyed red with fresh blood, apparently seriously injured.
100 billion...
Raquel seemed to remember something, forcibly enduring the ache in her body, she pulled the man up and left the room.
After the surgery, it was already broad daylight.
Raquel, tired and worn, kept vigil outside the ward, her mind in a daze.
“Raquel, why are you here?”
Alyson Quinn approached, confusion in her eyes.
Hadn't Raquel been tricked by their parents into going to the Washington Hotel to meet with Mr. Hart? Why was she here?
Raquel looked up. “Alyson, what brings you here?”
Alyson looked her up and down, “A friend of mine fell ill so I accompanied her to the hospital, but you…what happened?”
Raquel glanced down at her dress stained with blood and explained.
“I saved a man who was severely injured. The blood is his.”
“A man?”
Alyson shifted her gaze discreetly, stealing a glance into the ward, her breath hitching.
Stephen Guthrie!
Heir to the Guthrie family in the Mincolnrston, a man whose every action could influence the national economy. He was a figure of absolute prestige, both in the Mincolnrston and throughout the country.
Did Raquel save Stephen?
“Alyson, what's wrong?”
Raquel tugged on Alyson’s sleeve, snapping back to reality.
"It’s alright. You won’t be comfortable in bloody clothes. Go home and change first. I’ll stay here and watch over things."
Feeling sticky all over, Raquel glanced at the man sleeping soundly.
"Then I’ll trouble you. I’ll be back as soon as I can."
Without further thought, Raquel thanked him and hurriedly left, with the intent of making this journey as quick as possible.
After she left, Alyson took out his cell phone and dialed a number.
"Check the surveillance of Raquel at the Washington Hotel and Hospital from this morning, and send it to my phone."
After hanging up, the video quickly arrived, and Alyson glanced at it.
"Destroy the surveillance."
After sending the message, Alyson pocketed her cell phone and gently walked into the hospital room.
...
By the time Raquel rushed to the hospital, it was already the afternoon.
She had intended to take a bath, but unexpectedly fell asleep in the tub. If it weren't for the cold water waking her up, she might have slept the whole day.
Upon entering the ward, other than a nurse tidying the room, where was the dying man?
Raquel's eyebrows creased, she hurriedly asked the nurse.
"Where is the patient from this bed?"
"This bed? He completed the discharge procedures and left in the morning."
Raquel stood in place feeling a chill deep in her heart. The man was indeed a liar!
100 billion? Fuck him!
Her cellphone in her pocket rang, and Raquel, suppressing her anger, answered.
However, it was clear that the other party on the line was even angrier than her.
"Raquel, where are you now? The client says you still haven't arrived! Do you still want to keep this job?"
Raquel snapped awake, realizing that today was Saturday.
Mr. Arely, her senior, had taken a leave of absence, and she was assigned to give acupuncture to his client.
Half an hour later, Raquel stood in a vast living room. The unfamiliar environment made her uncomfortable, but the lavish decor prevented her from moving carelessly.
Everywhere she looked was expensive.
Suddenly, there was a noise from upstairs. Raquel didn’t want to listen, but certain words kept falling into her ears.
"Girlfriend..."
"Do not want money..."
Those simple six words made Raquel conjure up a whole scandalous melodrama in her mind.
The person I love is you, and all I want to do is be your girlfriend. I don't want your money!
Oh, what a classic narrative: an overbearing CEO falling for me!
The door on the second floor opens, and Raquel stops drawing ideas in her mind, politely turning around with a smile on her lips.
"Hello, Mr. Guthrie, I am..."
Raquel's voice abruptly stops, as she gapes at the man towering above her from the second floor.
It's him, the man who offered to give her 100 billion last night!