Flash Marriage: She becomes Mrs. CEO after the Failed Dowry Talk

Chapter 697: Arriving Just in Time

"Smack—"

A crisp sound rang out in the living room.

Nora Northwood’s face got slapped, a bright red five-finger mark clearly visible.

A trace of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth.

Instead of being angry, she smiled—a smile of relief and liberation.

The physical pain surpassed the emptiness brought by the drug, bringing her rationality back.

"You bitch, how dare you hit me? I’ll kill you!"

The enraged man was even more desperate to embarrass Nora Northwood.

At the critical moment, the door at the hallway was slammed open from the outside, and a group of bodyguards dressed in black swarmed in.

The man in the lead wore a black suit, his handsome face stern enough to squeeze water, exuding a fierce aura that commanded respect and distance.

Under the night sky, his panic was concealed, but upon seeing the injury on Nora Northwood’s face, his expression changed, his thin lips pressed into a line.

He didn’t look at Rachel Woodward once.

His long legs strode directly towards the person lying on the ground, an invisible aura spreading throughout the room.

Jasper Sinclair’s arrival made the space feel much smaller.

He crouched down in front of Nora Northwood, placed his hands on her shoulders, and carefully arranged her disheveled collar, as if handling a valuable jewel.

Then, he draped his coat over Nora Northwood’s shoulders.

Nora Northwood remained motionless, letting him fuss over her, but the trembling in her body subsided significantly.

"Nora, we’re going to the hospital."

With that, Jasper Sinclair picked her up in his arms, leaving behind two bodyguards to watch over Rachel Woodward and the offending man, specifically instructing, "Remember to start the recording."

Jasper Sinclair had noticed something wrong with the man as soon as he entered, almost instantly recognizing that he had been drugged.

After they left, Rachel Woodward also tried to make her way out.

A bodyguard extended an arm, showing no intention of letting her leave.

She shouted, "You have no right to hold me here, it’s illegal imprisonment!"

"Then call the police," the bodyguard’s gaze lazily swept over her, not bothering to hide his disdain.

The thief cries thief, perhaps that’s what this is.

Looking back, the driver’s drug was triggering, and he was staring intently at Rachel Woodward.

After all, she was the only female left there.

Rachel Woodward held her breath, ducking behind the bodyguard, "Don’t let him come over, whatever Jasper Sinclair is paying you, I’ll double it."

Sinclair Family’s bodyguards, how could they be bought with money?

No one responded to her, instead they stepped back uniformly.

Rachel Woodward’s face began to pale; she knew the effects well from using similar drugs; how could she not know what it looks like when the drugs take hold?

Desperation, fear, resentment—all kinds of emotions intertwined in her mind, driving her close to madness.

When the driver moved closer to her, she shouted, "Get away."

But what use was shouting? The man had long lost his sanity.

He forcefully pressed Rachel Woodward onto the sofa, his other hand frantic to pull off her pants.

The hospital gown was loose anyway; within moments, Rachel Woodward’s lower body was exposed.

She was about to lose it, her consciousness gradually swallowed, leaving only tears flowing ceaselessly from her eyes.

The ripping pain in her lower body was less than a tenth of her inner fear.

Yet, no one sympathized with her.

This time, Rachel Woodward truly understood what "reaping what you sow" felt like.