When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on the living room’s sofa. I was being hooked up to a blood transfusion. I had almost forgotten that both Robert and I shared the same blood type.
He stood beside me for a long time before sighing, asking me, “Why are you always so stubborn? If you’d just admit your mistakes and stop fighting me, I wouldn’t have to treat you this way.”
A slap first and then a gentle pat … was this his idea of love?
I pulled the needle from my arm and staggered upstairs. Behind me, Robert’s voice rang out, full of forced calm, “Amelia, let this be a lesson. Don’t make me do it again!”
At the stairwell, I ran into Gloria carrying a bowl of porridge.
“Oh, Amelia, you’re awake,” she said sweetly.
“I made this blood-replenishing porridge for you. Drink it while it’s still warm.”
I glared at her coldly.
“You staged the whole thing yourself, didn’t you? Is this how mistresses climb their way up?”
At that, Gloria dropped her act and smirked.
“I didn’t expect you to survive,” she said softly.
“But so what? In love, the one who isn’t loved is always the mistress.”
Gloria’s eyes flicked past me.
“Don’t believe me? Well then, I’ll prove it to you.”
Before I could react, she slammed the bowl in her hand to the floor, let out a shrill scream and hurled herself down the stairs from her wheelchair. Robert, who had just rushed over, caught her neatly in his arms. He turned to me coldly.
The next instant, Robert violently grabbed me by my collar. A violent force pulled me forward. I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs. My head hit the floor with a sharp crack. Warm blood streamed down my scalp.
Robert’s voice was cold and filled with disgust as he said, “Amelia, you really haven’t changed. Are you trying to repeat your old tricks?”
“I warned you last time. Since you refuse to take my words seriously, I guess everyone was right. You’re nothing but a violent criminal with a vicious heart. You’re unfit to be Mrs. Fuentes.”
After what just happened, I knew that I couldn’t even defend myself.
Instead, I asked him as I smiled while looking at him, “What now, Mr. Fuentes? Are you planning to send me to prison again … for your precious mistress?”
His gaze lingered on my blood-soaked face. For a moment, his expression faltered. But he then continued, “This time, I’ll let it go since Gloria wasn’t hurt. But I’ll move up my wedding with her. You owe her that much.”