Chapter 56

Scarlett POV

He was buried inside me at that moment, his scorching breath falling on my neck.

Yet he showed not the slightest remorse. On the contrary, Alexander's gaze grew more intense, as if trying to penetrate my façade and see into my soul.

"A natural temptress," he assessed in a low voice, his tone tinged with mockery. My cheeks instantly ignited, his gaze tangibly caressing every inch of my skin. "Have I not satisfied you?"

"Alexander, let me go!" I weakly pushed against his chest, my palms pressed against his hard muscles, yet tears betrayed me and welled up.

I didn't want to cry—it made me look too vulnerable—but emotions flooded through me like a broken dam, impossible to control.

Pathetically, my struggles only seemed to ignite a deeper interest in him. His arms tightened, locking me firmly in his embrace.

My nightgown had already been reduced to fragments under his touch.

His hand slid over my waist with rough tenderness, stopping at my chest, fingertips lightly pinching the sensitive nipple, drawing out a gasp I desperately tried to suppress.

His manhood was burning hard, deeply embedded within me, each slow withdrawal and penetration accompanied by wet, colliding sounds that teased my not-yet-fully awakened senses.

I clenched my jaw, attempting to resist that uncontrollable heat, but he mischievously cupped my buttocks, spreading my legs, invading more shamelessly.

My damp passage involuntarily tightened, accommodating his merciless rhythm. His lips pressed against my ear, breathing deeply: "Better that you're awake, baby."

Each deep thrust came with a low impact sound, my body involuntarily matching his rhythm...

When he was finally satisfied, I lay exhausted in his arms, my long hair scattered across my back.

I hated this feeling of powerlessness, hated being controlled, but now I had no choice.

His fingers combed through my hair, touching the scabbed wounds on my back, triggering a shudder.

I felt his fingers stop at my shoulder, circling around a specific point. That patch of skin was both itchy and painful, as if kissed by flame.

"Gunshot wound," he noted, gently moving his finger, sending a sharp pain through my body. I couldn't help but let out a soft moan, my body tensing.

He spoke again, his voice filled with dangerous curiosity, "You kept mentioning a place in your dreams..."

His finger slowly traced down my spine, leaving a trail of tremors. "What connection do you have to Obsidian Palace?"

The moment that name escaped Alexander's lips, my blood froze. I desperately controlled my heartbeat, afraid he would sense my inner panic.

"What Obsidian Palace? Some new investment group?" I feigned composure, struggling to keep my voice steady, though the final note still quivered slightly.

Avoiding his eyes, worried he'd see the alarm in mine, my fingertips unconsciously gripped the sheets tighter.

Alexander's lips curved into a dangerous smile.

"You talk in your sleep. Want me to help you remember?" His finger lightly traced my collarbone, the touch gentle yet chilling my spine.

I instinctively tensed my shoulders, wanting to recoil, yet forcing myself to remain still.

"I really don't know what you're talking about."

Alexander stopped pressing, simply observing me silently, his eyes dark with inscrutable emotions.

Silence stretched between us, the air thick with tension. I began arranging my clothes, preparing to end this suffocating conversation.

As I was about to leave, Alexander suddenly extended his hand. "Password." His tone brooked no refusal.

I nodded compliantly, suppressing my inner resistance. "919914." This madman Alexander, I silently cursed, yet had to continue obeying his commands.

His fingers swiftly moved across the screen. After adding contact information, he asked, "Birthday?"

"Mm," I absently responded, mentally calculating the pros and cons of establishing contact with him.

On the way back, sitting in the rear seat, I could feel Luke occasionally observing me through the rearview mirror.

"To Phoenix Hospital, please. I need to make a call first."

My phone suddenly vibrated. Alexander had not only saved my number but added me on social media.

A voice message followed: "You were eager enough when asking for my help and while making love, but now you're ignoring me? That's cold."

I hurriedly paused it, glancing discreetly at the front seat to ensure Luke hadn't heard.

"Damn!" Luke exclaimed. "The boss actually added you as a social media friend? I've been with him for ten years and still haven't got his contact details. Even the women in the Gray family haven't... Talk about unfair!"

I forced a smile, a wave of bitterness washing over me. If it weren't for uncovering the truth about Chloe's death, for reuniting with my sister Yvette sooner, I wouldn't need this "privilege" at all.

After getting out at a random spot, I pulled out my contacts and dialed Hugh's number. After three rings, his raspy voice came through.

"Well, I'm not dead yet—disappointed?"

"Last time you only sent me the documents. Where's what I really need?" I asked directly.

"Why should I help you?"

"Frankly, I need funds, influence, the ability to protect myself. As my brother, you can help me—why wouldn't you?" My tone remained calm and cold.

A painful cough came through. "You still suspect our parents killed your birth mother?"

"Even if they weren't the direct killers, they were accomplices." I paused, my voice growing icier. "Just agree to my conditions from last time, and I'll arrange your return home tomorrow."

Silence hung on the line for a long time. Finally, Hugh surrendered: "Fine! I agree. Twenty percent of Smith family shares—as long as I can come back alive, I agree to everything!"

Hanging up, I felt a wave of relief, my lips unconsciously curving into a satisfied smile. Another piece had fallen into place.

Walking into Phoenix Hospital, Cecilia waved enthusiastically from the cafeteria, her white coat casually draped over the chair back.

"Finally remembered me, busy bee?" she half-joked, embracing me.

"Don't look at me like that," I protested. "I've been swamped lately."

"Doctors get busier than Wall Street traders. I just came from a meeting—look over there!" Following her gesture, I noticed the cafeteria's new renovation.

Turning back, I found Cecilia's expression had shifted to concern.

"Two weeks without seeing you, and you seem thinner again." She observed, "That medication... are you still taking it? Can't you stop?"

I shook my head, a wave of discomfort rising in my stomach. "Without it, I can't earn his trust. It's fine—this drug isn't lethal."

"Scarlett," Cecilia leaned closer, lowering her voice, "Last month at a medical conference in Colombia, I learned these drugs are typically used by underground clubs to control women.

Sudden withdrawal causes severe symptoms. It won't kill you directly, but the withdrawal might be worse than death!"

Though I already knew this, my heart still fluttered. But in front of Cecilia, I maintained a nonchalant facade, not wanting to worry her.

"It's not that dramatic. I'm really fine. If something goes wrong, I'll ask for your help—you're Phoenix Hospital's gynecology expert, a future medical star!"

"Don't try that flattery with me." She rolled her eyes. "By the way, that bracelet I gave you last time—you haven't worn it out, have you?"

"N-no. I've put it away." I stammered, feeling my cheeks flush. That damn bracelet—whenever I recalled its special purpose, shame flooded over me like a tidal wave.

I unconsciously bit my lower lip, avoiding Cecilia's penetrating gaze.

Before leaving the hospital, I stopped at the pharmacy, my fingers sliding across the shelves before finally pausing at the long-acting contraceptives.

I took a deep breath, as if giving myself courage, then decisively picked up the box.

As I paid, the pharmacy lights reflected off the packaging, shimmering with cold brilliance.

Whatever happens, I'll definitely need to maintain intimate relations with Alexander long-term.

So, absolutely cannot get pregnant!