Chapter 185: Crushed Bones and Cold Hearts

He lifted his foot and stomped down on Yaron’s hand. The fine, hand-crafted leather shoe pressed down slightly, eliciting a heart-wrenching scream from Yaron. “Ah! My hand, my hand!” He felt as if several of his finger bones were crushed. Jonathan, however, seemed deaf to his cries; his eyes were cold as he twisted his foot, grinding it in further. Yaron was in so much pain he couldn’t even speak.

Sierra snapped back to reality and quickly got up to pull Jonathan away. “Jonathan!” Jonathan looked terrifying in that moment, startling her. “What?” Jonathan turned to look at Sierra, his expression calm, as if he had just stepped on an ant instead of breaking someone’s fingers. Yes, that was the feeling. Sierra felt as if the Jonathan before her was from another world, seemingly devoid of human emotion. This version of Jonathan frightened her inexplicably.

Suddenly, Sierra blurted out, “Jonathan, I’m hurt!” The fierce air around Jonathan vanished in an instant due to Sierra’s words, a flicker of worry crossing his eyes. “Are you hurt?” He had checked that Yaron’s knife hadn’t reached Sierra before he acted against Yaron, but he had been careless.

“Let’s go to the hospital,” Jonathan said, opening the car door. Despite being heavily hit by Yaron just moments before, the car door showed no signs of damage, just some chipped paint, a testament to the car’s resilience. Jonathan helped Sierra into the passenger seat and quickly started the car. As for Yaron, still lying on the ground unable to get up, Jonathan didn’t spare him a glance.

Throughout the drive, Jonathan sped along the road. Sierra couldn’t help but glance at him. His jaw was clenched, his lip pressed tightly together, slightly downturned from the side, signaling his displeasure. A rare impatience emanated from him, all because of her.

Sierra thought Jonathan was a man of contradictions. Moments ago, he had regarded Yaron with the indifference one might show a pest; his actions were utterly merciless. She even wondered if Jonathan might actually have killed Yaron. Back then, he was so detached, but now, the same man showed urgency just because she said, “I’m hurt.”

Her heart softened, and she spoke up, “Mr. Yeager, I’m not hurt anymore; let’s go home.” Jonathan clearly didn’t believe her, frowning. “We’ll check at the hospital first.” Some injuries might not show on the surface but could be internal.

“I know what injuries feel like, trust me, I’m really okay.” Hearing Sierra’s words, Jonathan felt even more uneasy.

“Really, let’s go home, I want to go home,” Sierra insisted again. Jonathan glanced at her, assessing her condition. Seeing that she indeed seemed fine, he finally turned the car around and headed home.

As they got out of the car, Sierra suddenly asked, “Earlier, were you going to kill him?” Jonathan paused, then chuckled, “Why would I? There are cameras everywhere; that would be illegal.”

Jonathan knew what Sierra wanted to ask. He didn’t answer but rhythmically tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “What do you want me to say? Or rather, what kind of answer are you hoping for?”

Sierra looked at Jonathan, not hiding her turmoil. “Just now… you felt like a stranger to me!” He was no longer the Jonathan she knew—so calm, so cold towards a person, even so rational. She noted that Jonathan had positioned himself so only his back was visible to the cameras during the altercation. It was too calculated. She didn’t know how else to describe it; in that moment, she had been scared. But then, because of her words, Jonathan had immediately reverted to the Jonathan she knew. The dissonance was profound.

That’s why she chose to voice her inner thoughts; she could feel that Jonathan cared about her. “Jonathan, who are you really?” Sierra’s voice was soft as she spoke. Jonathan remained silent, the gentle facade fading away to reveal his true nature—cold, arrogant, ruthless…