His "True Love" Was Fake... So Was My Corpse, Sucker! - Chapter 104: Chapter 104
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The first thing Marcus saw was me holding a huge crystal vase, about to attack Zoe. The scene, frozen in time, seemed to confirm his worst suspicions.
The previously aggressive Zoe suddenly collapsed to the floor, pretending to cry pitifully. Oscar-worthy, I had to admit.
"Marcus, my head hurts so much..." she whimpered, clutching her temple dramatically.
Marcus rushed forward to hold her tightly in his arms, anxiously checking for other injuries, his hands running over her face and body with tender concern.
Realizing her act had worked, Zoe cried more intensely, saying between sobs:
"I was so afraid you'd be taken from me... I just wanted to talk to Olivia. I don't know why she suddenly attacked me..." She buried her face in his chest, shoulders shaking with manufactured sobs.
I leaned against the bed and struggled to stand up, amazed at her theatrical performance. I could only repeat my explanation, voice rasping from the assault on my throat:
"I never intended to hurt her. I had no choice just now..."
But Marcus only showed fury and ferocity, glaring coldly at me. His eyes, which moments ago had been filled with concern for Zoe, now held nothing but contempt for me.
I suddenly felt that anything I said was utterly pointless because no one would believe me. The truth didn't matter—only Zoe's version of events would be accepted as reality.
Zoe moaned again in fake pain, leaning weakly against the nightstand as if she might faint any moment, one hand pressed delicately to her forehead.
Marcus could no longer contain his rage and kicked me hard in the stomach, his expensive leather shoe connecting with brutal force.
"Ahhh!" I slammed against the wall, then fell to the floor, violently coughing up blood. The pain was immediate and overwhelming, radiating through my entire abdomen.
Thick blood stained the clean cream carpet, spreading in a dark stain that would never come out.
My stomach felt like someone had plunged a knife into it and was twisting it through my entire body, making it impossible to breathe. Each shallow gasp sent fresh waves of agony through me.
But Marcus didn't spare me another glance. He carefully lifted Zoe and carried her to the door, cradling her as though she were made of porcelain.
Before leaving, he turned to threaten me, his voice cold like ice:
"If anything happens to Zoe, I won't let you off. Not just your family's business, but your parents too—none of you will escape." The promise of violence was unmistakable in his tone.
My vision was blurred by tears, and my heart ached so much that it had gone numb. Even through the physical pain, the injustice cut deeper.
I curled up wounded on the floor, using my last bit of strength to reach for the phone by the bed. My fingers left bloody smears on the screen as I dialed.
Clinging to my final thread of consciousness, I dialed 911, managing to whisper my address before the phone slipped from my grasp.
Wheels squeaked over uneven ground as I was lifted onto a stretcher and rushed to the emergency room, voices urgent but professional around me.
"Patient has a ruptured corpus luteum with severe bleeding. We need immediate surgery!" a doctor urgently announced to other departments, setting off a flurry of activity.
The harsh surgical lights illuminated my deathly pale face as I was wheeled into the operating room. My lips had taken on a bluish tinge, alarming the medical team.
My breathing was so weak that the doctor became alarmed, briefly believing I had no heartbeat. Fingers pressed against my wrist, searching for a pulse.
In my hazy state, I felt like I was floating high in the air, completely unmoored from my broken body. A strange peace settled over me—was this what dying felt like?
But the next moment, I plummeted back to earth.
The terrifying sensation of freefall covered me in cold sweat, instantly bringing me back to consciousness with a gasp.
I belatedly realized the surgery was already over, with cold medication flowing into my body through an IV, the steady drip marking time in the quiet room.
A dull pain left my mind foggy as I heard my phone vibrating persistently on the bedside table. The screen lit up repeatedly, casting ghostly shadows on the ceiling.
Watching the screen, I saw dozens of missed calls and countless message notifications.
All from Marcus.
The most recent message was from half an hour ago:
[If you don't answer your phone, I'll buy out your family's failing company right now!]
I sighed wearily and immediately called him back, knowing this small rebellion would only make things worse. Some habits were hard to break.
The previously aggressive Zoe suddenly collapsed to the floor, pretending to cry pitifully. Oscar-worthy, I had to admit.
"Marcus, my head hurts so much..." she whimpered, clutching her temple dramatically.
Marcus rushed forward to hold her tightly in his arms, anxiously checking for other injuries, his hands running over her face and body with tender concern.
Realizing her act had worked, Zoe cried more intensely, saying between sobs:
"I was so afraid you'd be taken from me... I just wanted to talk to Olivia. I don't know why she suddenly attacked me..." She buried her face in his chest, shoulders shaking with manufactured sobs.
I leaned against the bed and struggled to stand up, amazed at her theatrical performance. I could only repeat my explanation, voice rasping from the assault on my throat:
"I never intended to hurt her. I had no choice just now..."
But Marcus only showed fury and ferocity, glaring coldly at me. His eyes, which moments ago had been filled with concern for Zoe, now held nothing but contempt for me.
I suddenly felt that anything I said was utterly pointless because no one would believe me. The truth didn't matter—only Zoe's version of events would be accepted as reality.
Zoe moaned again in fake pain, leaning weakly against the nightstand as if she might faint any moment, one hand pressed delicately to her forehead.
Marcus could no longer contain his rage and kicked me hard in the stomach, his expensive leather shoe connecting with brutal force.
"Ahhh!" I slammed against the wall, then fell to the floor, violently coughing up blood. The pain was immediate and overwhelming, radiating through my entire abdomen.
Thick blood stained the clean cream carpet, spreading in a dark stain that would never come out.
My stomach felt like someone had plunged a knife into it and was twisting it through my entire body, making it impossible to breathe. Each shallow gasp sent fresh waves of agony through me.
But Marcus didn't spare me another glance. He carefully lifted Zoe and carried her to the door, cradling her as though she were made of porcelain.
Before leaving, he turned to threaten me, his voice cold like ice:
"If anything happens to Zoe, I won't let you off. Not just your family's business, but your parents too—none of you will escape." The promise of violence was unmistakable in his tone.
My vision was blurred by tears, and my heart ached so much that it had gone numb. Even through the physical pain, the injustice cut deeper.
I curled up wounded on the floor, using my last bit of strength to reach for the phone by the bed. My fingers left bloody smears on the screen as I dialed.
Clinging to my final thread of consciousness, I dialed 911, managing to whisper my address before the phone slipped from my grasp.
Wheels squeaked over uneven ground as I was lifted onto a stretcher and rushed to the emergency room, voices urgent but professional around me.
"Patient has a ruptured corpus luteum with severe bleeding. We need immediate surgery!" a doctor urgently announced to other departments, setting off a flurry of activity.
The harsh surgical lights illuminated my deathly pale face as I was wheeled into the operating room. My lips had taken on a bluish tinge, alarming the medical team.
My breathing was so weak that the doctor became alarmed, briefly believing I had no heartbeat. Fingers pressed against my wrist, searching for a pulse.
In my hazy state, I felt like I was floating high in the air, completely unmoored from my broken body. A strange peace settled over me—was this what dying felt like?
But the next moment, I plummeted back to earth.
The terrifying sensation of freefall covered me in cold sweat, instantly bringing me back to consciousness with a gasp.
I belatedly realized the surgery was already over, with cold medication flowing into my body through an IV, the steady drip marking time in the quiet room.
A dull pain left my mind foggy as I heard my phone vibrating persistently on the bedside table. The screen lit up repeatedly, casting ghostly shadows on the ceiling.
Watching the screen, I saw dozens of missed calls and countless message notifications.
All from Marcus.
The most recent message was from half an hour ago:
[If you don't answer your phone, I'll buy out your family's failing company right now!]
I sighed wearily and immediately called him back, knowing this small rebellion would only make things worse. Some habits were hard to break.
End of His "True Love" Was Fake... So Was My Corpse, Sucker! Chapter 104. Continue reading Chapter 105 or return to His "True Love" Was Fake... So Was My Corpse, Sucker! book page.