Page 24

"Get out of this bed. We’re going back home," Sawyer snapped, his gaze fixed on her with an annoyed intensity.
Ellie stared at him in silence for a moment, her mind racing a thousand miles a second, trying to think of how to get out of this. Then she suddenly coughed, louder this time, before pulling the duvet back over her face, trying to wriggle away from his grasp.
"No, I can't," she said, her voice weak and desperate. "Please, don't make me, Sawyer." She coughed again for extra effect.
"You are going to get out of this bed. Or I’ll drag you out, and I’m not going to make it look pretty."
Ellie shot him a quick scowl, but the very next moment, she replaced it with a sad expression, her eyes looking sickly and her face pale. She slowly sat up, blanket on her head and body, only face showing, hands clutching the blanket’s edges to the neck. Taking a deep breath, she covered her eyes with a hand, letting out a soft sob.
"Sawyer…" she muttered, her voice wavering with faux sadness. "Now that things have come to this, I’m not going to hide it anymore. The truth is, I left Stark house because I’m not going to live much longer." She paused, letting her words sink in. "I have very little time left."
Sawyer’s confused frown deepened. "What are you saying?" He leaned closer, his voice softening. "What’s going on? Are you sick?"
Ellie nodded, her hand lowering to reveal her pitiful gaze, tears swimming in her eyes. "Sawyer, I… I am going to die soon. The doctor said I only have a few weeks to live. Instead of giving you pain and wasting your money, I’m just going to go abroad and live there until I… well, until the end of my life."
Sawyer’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t look sick from anywhere. Her face was rosy, eyes clean and white, nose the same. His anger rose. "You’re not sick. Get out of this bed right now."
Ellie coughed again, this time looking up at him with a defeated expression. "Why don’t you get it? I’m telling you, I have a terminal illness! The doctor said I should enjoy my last few days. And anyway…" She sighed, her voice dripping with fake sorrow, "Your girlfriend’s already back. You won’t need me anymore, so why waste your time on someone like me?"
Sawyer looked up at the ceiling, then back at her, his voice calm but barely restrained. "Ellie, you aren’t sick!"
"I am sick!" Ellie snapped, her voice rising. "I have a deadly illness!"
Sawyer crossed his arms, a cold, skeptical look on his face. "You don’t look sick from where I’m standing."
Ellie pressed her lips together, trying to keep her act up. "It’s not something you can see. The doctor said I have a very serious condition. I have rhinopharyngitis!" She gasped dramatically. “And it’s very serious! Last stage."
Sawyer stared at her for a long, calculating moment, his gaze fixed as if he were counting down from ten in his head to calm his unnerved nerves. Then, his eyes narrowed into a glare.
"So a fucking cold? That’s your ‘last stage’ illness?"
Ellie’s eyes widened in surprise. She blinked rapidly, cursing under her breath. ‘God damn it,’ she thought. ‘It didn’t even take him a Google search to catch me?’
Ellie’s gaze flicked past Sawyer. Her suitcase was still leaning against the wall. If she made a dash now and ran at full speed, maybe—
Before she could act, a hand gripped her waist, another one wrapped around her neck, and the next moment, she was tossed over a muscular shoulder, blanket thrown aside.
“Hey! Put me down!”
A loud swat to her ass made her flinch, and before she could react, two more followed, leaving her in shock.
“Shut the fuck up!” Sawyer growled, marching out of the house with her.
“I’m telling the truth!” Ellie’s voice rose in desperation. “I was really, really sick! You don’t believe me, but I even had to get a shot because I couldn’t breathe!”
She quickly grabbed the syringe off the top of the suitcase as he was carrying her out to show it to him.
"Ellie, shut it!" Sawyer snapped, his voice cutting through the air. "Enough with your tantrums."
"Why aren’t you listening to me? I told you—put me down!" She slapped his back, her frustration boiling over. "How many times do I have to repeat myself?"
Another few swats on her ass had her immediately shutting up.
Chapter 8 Greedy and Lustful
Meanwhile, outside Lily’s house, Olivia stood with her phone pressed to her ear, fuming.
"This is all the information I could get so far," the voice on the other end said lazily. "She takes Stark’s money, then pays hospital bills for some old man who's in a coma right now and some loan sharks. That's a ridiculous amount of money for someone like her just for being Stark’s girlfriend. She’s getting a lot of cash from him to pay off that half-dead old man’s bills and debts."