Chapter 5

In Villa Del Ven, Rita was crying her heart out. Seeing Jolene and Daphne return, she wiped her tears and said, "Madam Daphne, Mr. Bradson brought a doctor into Mr. Steven's room and drew a big tube of blood." "Where are they now?" "They're still in the room." Clutching her chest, Daphne rushed toward the stairs with unsteady steps. She twisted her ankle in her high heels, and Jolene quickly reached out to support her. "Thank you," Daphne thanked her in a tense, choked voice. When they reached the hallway, they saw that the door to the master bedroom was open. A man with sharp almond eyes and gold-rimmed glasses was standing in the room. His hair was meticulously combed, and he was dressed in expensive clothing from head to toe. A smile played on his lips as he looked at them. His gaze swept over Jolene's face with a hint of coldness. "Aunt Daphne, is this the bumpkin? Once the pride of our family, Steven now deserves only a village woman." "What are you trying to do?" Daphne coldly questioned. Bradson's voice was full of pride. "I brought a doctor here to examine Steven on Grandpa's orders. Aunt Daphne, are you misunderstanding something?" "Are you done with the examination? Please leave." "Don't talk to me like that. The main branch has been searching for Dr. Ashton all these years, and we have more clues than you do." Robert Welsh suffered a severe injury in his youth. Now, his joints ached unbearably every winter. Despite seeking numerous famous doctors, no cure was found, so he placed his hopes on Gabriel. Seeing the grim look on Daphne's face, Bradson finally looked satisfied. A smug smile spread across his face. "Aunt Daphne, I'll get going now." Bradson left triumphantly, shedding the gloom from years of being overshadowed by Steven. How could a cripple be the next head of the Welsh family? Daphne bit her lip as she watched them leave. When she moved her foot, a sharp pain shot through her. "Let me check your injury," Jolene said, helping her sit in the hallway. She pressed on Daphne's ankle. "It's fine, the bone isn't injured." Jolene proceeded to work her way around Daphne's ankle, and soon, Daphne could walk again. Tears welled up in Daphne's eyes as she looked at the closed door and then at Jolene. "Could I request your help in taking care of Steven? My foot's fine, and he's more important." As a mother, she knew Steven best. She couldn't imagine what the situation in the room was like after Bradson caused a scene. Being so proud, Steven would never want his closest ones to see him in a humiliating state. Jolene was bright and understood immediately. She solemnly nodded. "I'll go in. Rita, please help Madam Daphne to rest." "Got it." After they left, Jolene opened the door to the room. The room was in disarray with the floor a mess. Steven was leaning against the bed. His profile when viewed from the side was noble and unmatched. His clothes were disheveled with traces of blood on them. Hearing the noise, he slowly turned his head. His gaze was like the sharpest blade in the world, sending a chill down Jolene's spine. "Daphne asked me to come and tidy up for you." Jolene bent down to pick up the pillow, documents, and a water glass on the floor. Then, she placed them neatly. A deep voice came from behind her. "Are you here to tidy up the room or tidy me up?" He had thrown all the items on the floor on purpose, so what was there to clean? If he hadn't done that, Bradson wouldn't have believed he had suffered a mental breakdown and could never recover. Jolene looked up to see him giving a dissatisfied wave. He announced, "I need to change my clothes." "Alright." Jolene took a pure white cotton loungewear set from the closet. As she approached Steven, he spread his arms as if it were a matter of course. She unbuttoned his shirt to take it off and was exposed to a muscular body glaring at her. Her heart pounded wildly. She quickly put his shirt on him, but she hesitated as she held the pants. "You weren't so modest when you took off my pants. Why pretend to be all pure and shy now?" Steven's lips were pale, almost bloodless. And his words were harsh. Jolene was momentarily stunned. Steven leaned against the bed with his eyes closed, looking as if he had resigned himself to his fate. Jolene's warm soft fingers occasionally brushed against his skin, causing a series of shudders. "Give me your hand," she ordered. She wrung out a towel and began wiping the bloodstains from the back of his hand. The needle marks were obvious with the skin around them turning blue. It seemed they had drawn that much blood on purpose. Steven's dark gaze swept across her face. He twisted his hand and exerted a little force to yank Jolene onto the bed. Before she could get up, he was already pressing his upper body down on hers. His hot breath brushed against her cheek as he asked in a low voice, "What did Bradson offer you?" He gripped her chin, forcing her to tilt her head up and look at him. Her clear eyes were misty with tears. "I don't know him," Jolene confessed. So, Steven didn't trust her, and he had been messing with her all along. Now, the proud and steady Steven finally showed his decisive and ruthless side. His right hand pressed against her soft waist, and his fingertips dug in. "You know how they used to interrogate spies, right?" he asked in a chilling voice. Jolene did. Either way, she knew that they couldn't escape being tortured and tormented. She twisted her body, trying to break free. "You took off my pants twice. Isn't it fair for me to take yours off once?" Steven said as his fingers moved along her thigh. Jolene's eyes were red in fury. She fiercely poked the GB21 acupuncture point in his shoulder, causing his arm to go numb. He then let go. She took the opportunity to roll off the bed. Holding onto the pants, she looked at him warily. She was angry and resentful. "Even if you strip me completely naked… you'll still be impotent!" she bluntly blabbered in a sobbing voice. Her cheeks still bore the marks of pressure. Jolene opened the door and ran back to her room, feeling humiliated and furious. Around the corner of the corridor, two women emerged. "Her buttons are undone." "Her hair's messy." "Her face's flushed. Did Mr. Welsh kiss her?" Rita gave a thumbs-up and whispered her praise, "Madam Daphne, it's a brilliant move to send Mrs. Welsh to take care of him." A bitter trick to win sympathy was the fuel to get feelings developing. Daphne gave her a sidelong glance. "No big deal. I know my son. He won't suffer a loss to Bradson unless he wanted to." When had Bradson ever won against Steven? "Mr. Welsh is clever, just like you," Rita remarked. In the room, Steven rubbed his thumb and forefinger together, feeling them over. It felt soft like cotton candy. He glanced down. What did Jolene mean by saying that he was impotent? Did she think she could escape if he really tried? With a buzz, the phone on the bedside table vibrated. Vance had worked quickly to compile a detailed document of Jolene's life from childhood to now and sent it over. Steven tapped on the investigation report. His fingers froze as he skimmed through, and a look of stunned surprise crossed his eyes.