Chapter 492 You’re Not Going Anywhere
Wyatt flicked on the lighter and lit the cigarette between her lips. The tip of the cigarette trembled slightly. Yunice’s full lips quivered faintly as she took a drag. The flame licked the edge, casting a dim red glow. Wyatt watched her with appreciation, then took the cigarette from her mouth and clamped it between his own lips. Smoke slowly slipped from Yunice’s mouth, curling into the air until it faded into nothing.
Leaning against the headboard, Wyatt rested his arm on his knee, the cigarette dangling between his fingers, exuding a careless, streetwise arrogance. That’s who he really was. The polished act he used to put on for Yunice had been just that – an act. But Wyatt didn’t want to pretend anymore. He knew what kind of person Yunice was.
She was too rational. If she saw no future in a relationship, she would walk away without hesitation or regret. She’d done it with Paul. Wyatt wasn’t naive enough to think he’d be the exception. Now that Yunice knew about Nora, she’d definitely find a way to leave him. He wasn’t about to let that happen.
Wyatt tilted his head back and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. His voice was calm. “You’re my wife. If I find out you’re trying to run, I’ll tie you to this bed for the rest of your life. Don’t believe me? Try it.”
Yunice trembled as tears fell. Tonight, Wyatt was someone else entirely. She was afraid of him.
Wyatt raised his hand and gently touched her hair. His gaze darkened, but the sinister glint in his eyes faded as he looked at her tear-streaked face. If she dared to run, he really would lock her in a cage. Seven years ago, he’d hesitated once. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
When he finished the cigarette, he stubbed it out. Then he reached out and pulled Yunice into his arms. Her body was cold as ice. “You’re too tired today. No need to shower. Just sleep.”
Yunice lay down in fear, her eyes flicking to the gun lying on the floor. But the memory of what had just happened left her too scared to try anything.
The sheets were still wet. Wyatt hadn’t changed them. Yunice curled up on the damp fabric, tears silently falling. She’d been naive. She thought a smile from Wyatt meant they could talk as equals, that reason still mattered. Now she understood–Wyatt was the law. Wyatt was the truth. There was no such thing as bargaining with him. Yunice drifted in and out of restless sleep, again and again. Only after her body finally gave out did she truly fall asleep.
Wyatt, however, didn’t sleep. He held Yunice in his arms, gently patting her back, lulling her. Her phone lit up a few more times. Wyatt reached over and picked it up. Seeing the messages from Maine, he tapped a few times and blocked Maine’s number.
Maine had waited all night at the Gardison Residence, but Wyatt never showed. Sitting at Nora’s bedside, Maine’s eyes were red as she choked back tears. “Nora… when are you going to wake up? If you stay like this, Wyatt’s really going to be taken by someone else… If he ends up holding someone new, how could he possibly still think of you?”
The pale, delicate woman on the hospital bed lay motionless, expressionless. She had been in this state for two years. Every two hours, someone had to turn her over. Her food, medicine, and care required endless time and money to keep her from developing a single bedsore in all that time. Wyatt had hired people to take care of her. But who knew what would happen in the future? What if Wyatt stopped caring one day? How miserable would that be…
As Maine sobbed and rambled on, a single tear slipped from the corner of Nora’s closed eye–like she could hear everything. It took Maine a moment to notice. When she did, she jumped up in shock and joy. “Nora! Can you hear me? Are you conscious?”
Nora didn’t respond. But the fingers Maine clutched gave the tiniest twitch. Maine saw it and burst into tears, laughing and crying all at once. “Nora, are you waking up? You reacted, didn’t you? Don’t worry! I’m going to come see you…”
“Hang on… I’m calling him right now…”
She grabbed her phone. The line rang.
At that moment, Wyatt was in the bedroom, wringing out a towel. Yunice had a fever. Whether from fear or exhaustion, she lay listlessly in bed, a cool towel Wyatt had placed on her forehead. He wrung out a fresh one and replaced the one that had grown warm. Just then, a housekeeper knocked on the door.
“Sir, a lady called and said Miss Nora is showing signs of waking up. She asked if you’d like to go see her.”
Wyatt had his back to the door. The housekeeper couldn’t tell if he heard her. She hesitated, unsure if she should repeat herself or leave. Only when Yunice looked over at her did the housekeeper quietly step away.