Chapter 171
Chapter 171
Audrey was pinned against the door, balancing awkwardly on one leg.
Yann leaned into her like a mountain bearing down, his presence thick with testosterone, stronger than the liquor they’d shared at lunch.
Her head, already spinning from the wine, was now a complete blur. She clutched his shirt, returning his fierce kiss with equal fervor.
The more heated her response, the closer they became, intoxicating and inseparable.
If she’d worn a dress today, she might have already been conquered. Even so, her shirt had been tugged askew, baring a shoulder.
A sudden jolt of pain snapped her back to her senses. She gasped and grabbed a fistful of his hair.
“Stop! Stop! Seriously, stop!”
He froze but didn’t move away.
His breath, hot against her skin, scorched a blush across her collarbone.
“Fine! Tonight! You’ll get your reward tonight!” she whispered urgently, desperate to preserve what remained of their public decorum.
Yann slowly drew back, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Though his heart surged with satisfaction, his face was the picture of composure, a striking contrast to Audrey’s disheveled allure.
“You’re sure you’re not just saying that?”
“Absolutely not.”
“All right, then.”
She shoved him off and scrambled to fix her clothes and hair.
Yann strolled over to the window, pretending to survey the view, while in truth trying to calm the heat raging through his body.
When they finally stepped out of the bedroom, they looked as composed as ever.
Calvin was sitting on the couch with the sales agent, casually scrolling through his phone.
The agent, however, looked visibly deflated. She had thought she’d met a rare, high–quality man, only to realize he was already someone else’s catch.
Hearing the bedroom door creak open, both stood up at once.
“Let’s go,” Audrey said quickly, eager to escape further scrutiny.
Calvin and the sales agent stayed behind to finalize the paperwork, while Audrey and Yann returned to the car.
A few minutes later, Calvin joined them in the driver’s seat.
“Where’s the driver?” Audrey asked, noticing someone was missing.
“Ryder had something to take care of,” Yann replied.
Clayton had called every friend he could think of, yet not one would lend him the money he needed.
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Chapter 171
He couldn’t wrap his head around it. They used to share drinks, trade contacts, and discuss investments, yet when trouble struck, not a single persone
stepped up.
Some said they were tight on cash, while others blamed recent investment losses. One even claimed all his money was managed by his wife and he’d have to ask her permission.
Clayton couldn’t comprehend how a man could hand over financial control to a woman,
Back when he boasted about splitting finances with Audrey post–marriage, everyone had praised him for being good at taming his wife. Now it seemed the rules had changed.
To be fair, not everyone turned him down out of coldness. Two men, both former beneficiaries of John’s generosity, scraped together a total of sixty thousand for him.
Flipping through his contacts again, he tried to think of anyone else he could call, when suddenly, his phone rang.
“Clayton! Get to GlamourMed right now!” It was Cheryl’s anxious voice.
“A plastic surgery hospital?” He thought he’d misheard. “Why would she need cosmetic work? She’s fine, isn’t she?”
“It’s because of Audrey! I can’t explain over the phone. Just hurry!”
He hadn’t planned to go, but once he heard Audrey’s name, curiosity got the better of him. Gritting his teeth, he changed out of his hospital gown and
hailed a cab.
When he arrived, he learned the full cost of Valerie’s dental implants and facial treatments, over thirty thousand dollars, all imported medicine.
She lay on the hospital bed, head wrapped in gauze, one eye barely visible, sobbing softly. She could hardly speak.
“You should go pay the bill,” Cheryl ordered without so much as a glance.
Clayton clenched his phone tightly, frustration rising.
He had given them three hundred thousand before. Now, even with him hospitalized himself, they still had the nerve to summon him just to pay their
tab.
Valerie couldn’t speak, so she handed Clayton her phone. A message was already typed out.
[I was looking at apartments with my mom and ran into Audrey. She said you begged her to sign the letter of forgiveness. If I call the police, she’ll make sure you end up in jail!]
Clayton’s brow drew tighter with every word. He looked at her, suspicion creeping into his voice.
“She hit you? Why?”
Valerie snatched the phone back and typed another message with swift, sharp taps.
[I saw her with a man. I asked if she was really over you. He said they’ve been together for a while. I lost my temper and said something, and he hit me!!
She passed the phone back.
As he read, Clayton’s expression shifted. “Was he about my height? Broad build?”
She nodded firmly, then turned to Cheryl for backup.
Cheryl picked it up seamlessly. “She was standing up for you. Who knew the guy would lash out like that? He knocked out one of her teeth. Her face is a
mess!”
Just then, a nurse came in to change the bandages and urged, “Are you her family? We need the payment processed. She still has one more prescription ››
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Chapter 171
pending.”
The sixty thousand dollars Clayton had just borrowed wasn’t even warm in his pocket before it was already spoken for.
His gut clenched, but there was no way out.
He left the room with a heavy heart.
At the nurse’s station, two nurses chatted quietly.
“I really thought that guy was her husband,” one said, scoffing. “Kept demanding the best meds, but disappeared the minute the bill came.”
“Probably just her lover,” the other replied, flipping through a chart, unaware Clayton was within earshot. “No one else would care if her face got wrecked. If it were the one who hit her, they’d just slap on some cheap basics, couple thousand, max.”
Glamour Med was a private cosmetic clinic with lax management. Gossiping about patients was common.
Most who came through the doors had secrets to hide and stories stranger than fiction.
To them, it was obvious that Valerie was a mistress, smacked by the wife. Her lover panicked and did everything to save her face.
But when it came time to pay, her husband got the bill because if the lover paid, the game would be up.
Clayton had just passed by when their voices finally registered.
He stopped, turned abruptly, and walked to the administrative office.
“I’m Valerie’s husband. I’d like to ask about her condition.”
The doctor began with a clinical report. The injury was serious, one tooth knocked out, three loosened, and signs of a possible fracture in her jawbone.
Then he addressed the treatment. The medication used was indeed high–grade and imported. As for the cost, every drug had been administered with full consent, both from the patient and her family. There had been no overcharging, no unnecessary prescriptions.
Before letting him go, the doctor added a final note. Her face would need long–term care. Since the initial treatment used premium medication, switching to cheaper alternatives later on might compromise the results.
It felt like the floor was giving out beneath Clayton. He was sinking fast, with nothing to hold on to.
This marriage with Valerie was turning into a slow suffocation.
His carefully maintained dignity had collapsed. He looked exhausted, his shoulders sagging beneath the weight of reality.
Without a word, he turned to leave.
“Wait,” the doctor called out just as he reached the door.
A new lab result had just come in. He adjusted his glasses, squinting at the screen.
“Her
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