novelraw Chapter 1447: She Has a High Fever
Chapter 1447: She Has a High Fever
Celeste Linden had almost foreseen her own future.
"Celeste, don’t let such trivial matters affect our mood. Come, let’s go inside." Ethan Barnes reached out to embrace Celeste’s delicate shoulders.
Celeste avoided him, and Ethan’s hand froze mid-air.
"I’m going to work. You can rest, whether at my place or someone else’s," Celeste said, walking inside.
Celeste no longer paid attention to Ethan, forcing herself to focus on work.
Left alone on the balcony, Ethan slowly retracted his frozen hand and frowned, feeling a bit displeased.
To be honest, he thought Celeste was somewhat ungrateful.
All the other women in his harem were eager to serve him, except her, who would give him the cold shoulder when in a bad mood.
It seemed he had spoiled her too much, making her unaware of her standing and the reality of her situation.
Ethan strode inside and grabbed Celeste’s slender arm, pulling her up from the carpet.
"What are you doing? I still have work to do. Let go of me! You’re hurting me!" Celeste fiercely resisted his touch, struggling to free herself from his grip.
This only added fuel to the fire, as Ethan forcefully pulled her into his embrace. "Come, I’ll take you somewhere."
"I don’t want to go, let me go!" Without even asking where they were going, Celeste expressed her refusal outright; she truly didn’t want to leave.
"Celeste, I’m notifying you, not asking for your opinion. You don’t have the right to refuse or choose; come with me." Ethan, half-hugging her, dragged her out.
Celeste was no match in strength against him; no matter how she struggled, his strong arm remained firm as iron, restraining her like a chick powerless to resist.
Celeste eventually gave up struggling, allowing Ethan to stuff her into the back seat of a Jeep.
The Jeep sped off with a whoosh.
...
Half an hour later, the Jeep stopped in the suburbs, and Ethan opened the rear door. "Get out."
Where is this place?
Celeste didn’t recognize it, but she suddenly heard several piercing screams that sounded familiar, like they were coming from Olivia.
A deep fear seized Celeste. She yearned for sunlight and freedom and detested violence and bloodshed, wanting to flee.
"I won’t get out; I don’t want to see anything."
Ethan pulled Celeste down, then dragged her forward by her delicate wrist. "What are you running from? Just look if I tell you to."
Celeste desperately struggled, but Ethan forced her to a small window. She looked up and saw Olivia.
The always gentle Olivia was now dreadfully pale, her face covered in sweat from pain, her dress soaked with blood dripping down.
It was evident Olivia had miscarried.
It wasn’t due to medication or a doctor; a few men in black surrounded her, holding blood-stained wooden sticks.
The child had been beaten out alive.
Celeste was overwhelmed by the dense smell of blood—an iron-like scent that made her want to vomit.
Celeste turned away, not wanting to see, but Ethan pinched her face, forcing her to look. "Celeste, don’t you pity her? Now I’m making you see clearly; take a good look."
Inside, Olivia seemed to hear the noise, weakly looking over.
Celeste felt Olivia’s gaze fall on her; Olivia’s lips moved faintly, "Help me... help my child..."
Celeste trembled all over and couldn’t hold back. She vomited on the spot with a "wah."
Ethan had intended to punish her, but he hadn’t expected her to vomit. He lightly patted her back. "Celeste..."
Celeste pushed him away, "I’ve seen enough. Can we go back now?"
Before Ethan could speak, Celeste turned and walked away.
But after a few steps, Celeste went limp and fainted.
"Celeste!"
The last thing Celeste heard before passing out was Ethan’s roar. He must be furious now.
Good. She finally didn’t have to face him anymore.
Celeste curved her lips, calmly closing her eyes.
...
Celeste began to run a fever, her whole body burning hot, reaching a temperature of 42 degrees.
She had nightmares, her miserable past flashing before her like a fast-forwarded movie—her gambling-addicted father, Ethan’s menacing face, Dominic Reynolds fading into the distance...
She felt intense pain, like the time her leg was broken, or when Ethan had taken her body, or their recent encounter, when she met this demon again.
All her suffering stemmed from this man, both in dreams and reality.
Celeste was in agony, desperately wanting to wake up, as she didn’t want to see him. Yet upon waking, he was there, everywhere, with no escape.
Ethan stood beside her bed, watching the unconscious Celeste. Her face was flushed with fever, sweat rolling down continuously. She shook her head in suffering, murmuring unknowingly, trying to escape something.
"What’s wrong with her?" Ethan asked the doctor, his expression dark.
The doctor wiped cold sweat, saying fearfully, "King Hayden, the patient has a high fever, reaching 42 degrees."
"I don’t need your nonsense. I know she has a high fever. I want you to treat her immediately—I want her to recover and wake up quickly!" Ethan roared, his face dark and terrifying.
The doctor retreated a few steps in fright. "King Hayden, please don’t worry. The patient’s constitution is weak, and her emotions have been unstable lately, causing this sudden fever and fainting. I’ve already begun lowering her temperature. However, the fever reduction will take time, so please be patient."
Patient, my foot!
"Get out!" Ethan directly dismissed him.
Amitabha.
The doctor awaited such words and left swiftly without looking back.
Ethan sat by the bed, observing Celeste in her feverish unconsciousness. All he did was take her to see Olivia, and she was so cowardly, so useless!
"Celeste Linden, wake up quickly. Don’t think this will free you from me. I’m telling you, it’s useless. Even if you go to heaven or hell, I will find you; you can’t escape me."
Celeste was destined not to hear his words, nor could she respond in any way.
At night, Celeste’s body was no longer hot but cold.
Her body was as cold as ice, her face ghostly pale, teeth chattering even in her coma.
This severe fever came relentlessly, a mix of burning heat and freezing cold.
"Add more blankets."
"Yes."
The maid covered Celeste with many layers of blankets, leaving only her head exposed beneath the pile.
But it was useless; she was still cold.