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Welcome To My Hell "Test your limits cautiously, Nicole," Jarrod warned, his expression fierce.
Nicole chuckled even more, seemingly amused by his scowl.
"For the next three years, you can't tie the knot.
While I may not be noble, I refuse to be anyone's mistress.” Jamie aimed to be Jarrod’s wife just to humiliate her.
But Nicole had no intention of playing along.
She wouldn't become the woman everyone despised.
Jarrod lost his cool.
"And who exactly do you think you are? Whether I marry or not, you're still obligated to entertain me.” "Jarrod, this isn't up for
debate.
You won't let the Lawrence family go, and if we can't find a middle ground..." Nicole's voice grew soft but unwavering.
"Let's fight to the death!" A laugh erupted from Jarrod, unsettling even from a distance.
He relished her words.
Deliberately, he said, "You have my word.” After saying that, he stepped closer and extended his hand.
Without a second thought, Nicole seized it and leapt from the window, landing securely in his embrace.
He walked a few paces before tossing her onto the bed.
Pinning her down, he sneered, “You're asking for trouble.
Brace yourself for a wretched life.” He vowed to make her endure the hell he had known.
Any trace of warmth vanished from Jarrod's voice, leaving it icy cold.
He leaned in, whispering deliberately, “Welcome to my hell, Miss Lawrence." Although only one of her eyes was visible, her
allure remained unbroken.
Nicole wrapped her arms around Jarrod's neck, nibbling on his ear, and purred, "Jarrod, I'm already in the hell.” Since the
moment Jarrod ceased to love her.
Since the moment Jarrod loved another.
Since the moment Jarrod allowed others to belittle her.
Every second was a living nightmare for her.
The hospital bed creaked rhythmically.
In a haze of pleasure and agony, Nicole felt as if she were on the brink of death.
Yet, she realized she was still alive.
Jarrod gripped her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his.
His shirt was immaculate, his forehead scar making him look menacing, almost villainous.
"Concentrate on your task," he commanded.
He then bit into her neck, his breath reeking of iron.
Nicole grinned.
"Jarrod, you're falling short...
It’s painful.” With a scoff, Jarrod wasn't buying her act.
He extended a hand to hit the call button beside the bed, laughing like a madman.
"Enjoy a thrill, do you? Let's summon some people and see whether I'm doing well." To his surprise, Nicole wasn't backing down.
She latched onto his arm and countered, "Sure, why don't you invite your fiancée over?" His forehead veins bulging, Jarrod was
visibly annoyed.
He harshly clamped a hand over her mouth, swearing, "You're out of your mind, aren't you?" Bang! Someone knocked on the
door.
A nurse's voice came from the other side of the door.
"Patient in bed 212, how may I assist you?" She repeated her call three times, but received no reply, only indistinct romantic
noises.
The nurse's cheeks turned a shade of pink before she retreated.
Nicole chuckled and said, "Jarrod, you're such a scaredy-cat.
You even bolted the door." Although her mocking demeanor infuriated him, Jarrod couldn't deny the pleasure of their sexual
intercourse.
He conceded that Nicole had a certain allure when she behaved this way.
"I won't be beaten," Nicole announced with confidence.
Arching an eyebrow, Jarrod scoffed.
"I'll look forward to seeing you groveling.” What he didn't expect was that he would never witness Nicole begging for compassion.
He had assumed that three years would suffice to break her, but they didn't even last half that time.
As Nicole lay limp in his embrace that day, he found himself willing to trade his own life for hers.
Love, once profound, now masked by pointless animosity, fueled his destructive tendencies.
In the CEO Office of the Dixon Group.
Matteo relayed his hospital chat with Raegan.
Mitchel's gaze grew intense.
"Dig into every detail." As Matteo prepared to leave, Mitchel interjected, "Retract all the fabricated stories about that birthday
celebration." Upon exiting, Matteo bumped into Kyle and pulled him aside.
"Kyle, fetch the security footage from both sides of the president's office door on the day of the conference.” Kyle’s expression
remained stoic despite a moment of inner turmoil.
"Sure, Matteo.” Soon after, Kyle sent a copy of the security footage to Matteo.
Matteo posed another question, “Has it been challenging attending to Miss Murray lately?” Kyle dismissed the concern.
"No, it's nothing major.
"Mr.
Dixon instructed that you're no longer bound by Miss Murray's commands.
You can continue working at the company.” "Why's that?" Kyle inquired immediately.
"Have you changed your mind about returning to the company?" Matteo's eyebrows knitted together.
"Absolutely not,” Kyle hastily reassured.
“It just took me by surprise.
That's all." "I just thought you had some sort of attachment to Miss Murray," Matteo hinted slyly.
"Attachment? To her? Not even likely.
She's got a terrible temper.
I can't wait to get back to the company and escape her wrath," Kyle retorted.
Matteo continued, "Well, anyway, Miss Murray is no longer our concern.
Mr.
Dixon has made that clear." "Understood, Matteo.” After Kyle took his leave, Matteo glanced at Kyle’s meticulously styled hair,
paused briefly, and then headed to his office.
At the hospital, later in the day, Raegan took a ten- minute stroll, courtesy of the nurse's approval..
She unexpectedly bumped into Henley.
Wearing a black sweater and khaki slacks, his good looks resembled those of a college student.
Their eyes met.
Henley said, "What brings you back to the hospital?” His voice tinged with worry.
"Fertility treatments,” Raegan pointed to her stomach and explained.
“And you?” Henley gestured toward his arm and playfully said, "Physical rehab." Upon hearing this, Raegan's face turned
somber.
"I'm sorry, Henley,” she offered, feeling guilt-ridden over his injuries.
Henley shrugged it off and comforted her, "No need to be concerned.
I made this decision willingly.
Nobody pushed me into it.” Yet, Raegan grew more melancholic.
"Henley, can I treat you to coffee?” For some reason, this made Henley slightly uneasy, but he consented with a cheerful nod.
After sitting down, Raegan opted for juice while Henley sipped on coffee.
He found himself distracted by the sight of Raegan’s slender, beautiful fingers.
A vivid dream flashed in his mind.
It was an implausible dream where Raegan's fingers had rendered him on cloud nine.
How could it be? His pursuit of her was purely strategic.
He despised women.
How could he be charmed by one so quickly? Disturbed, Henley shifted the subject.
"Raegan, rumor has it that Miss Murray and your husband will be sharing some good news soon.
What's that about?”