The Divorced Heiress’s Revenge

Asher felt the agonizing words pierce straight through his heart, each syllable cutting deeper than the last.

Pain twisted inside him as a relentless force threatened to tear him apart.

Through the haze, Arnold vaguely noticed a crimson tear welling in the corner of Asher's eye. But before it could fall, he clenched his eyes shut, forcing it back.

His striking features were empty, devoid of any trace of emotion-a mask of quiet devastation.

Yet, an unbearable anguish crashed over him like a tidal wave, dragging him under. He had no time to school his expression. His soul lay in ruins beneath the rigid shell of his body. Yuri slid into the driver's seat and shut the door. Just then, Arnold lurched forward, retching again. The sound was gut-wrenching, as if he were vomiting up his very soul.

"Matrix, Mr. Larson looks like he has alcohol poisoning. We should take him to the hospital." Yuri's brows knitted together in worry as he noted Arnold's pallid face.

Asher shrugged off his suit jacket, using it to wipe away the mess in the car. But when he saw Arnold groaning in pain, his chest tightened. His heart twisted as though it were being ripped apart.

Without warning, he pulled the man into a firm embrace.

He knew Arnold's drinking tolerance well. He was not one to get drunk easily, let alone to this extent.

How much pain must he have been in to drown himself like this to destroy himself like this? "Thirsty... So thirsty... So hot..."

Arnold's pale face gradually flushed with color. His eyes glistened with moisture, and his slightly parted lips were tinged with a delicate pink. His feverish and unsteady breath spilled against Asher's chin as his body sagged, melting into the man's embrace.

up!" Asher pressed his palm against Arnold's skin through the thin silk of his

is

doctor for years. He had seen enough in

drugged. Someone must have

His mind flashed back to the man who had been shamelessly flirting with Arnold earlier. His jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around Arnold's waist. He pulled out his phone, his voice clipped and lethal as he gave a single command. Minutes later, the

to describe what

last much longer! We need to take him

I got

of it

to

the cold moon hung in the sky,

Manor was eerily silent,

the grand corridor. The air felt heavy, the silence almost oppressive.

A low voice answered from

stepped inside. Gregory sat alone on the sofa, downing one glass of strong liquor after

is high. You shouldn't be drinking

half-empty bottle of whiskey aside. His long lashes lowered slightly,

faltered. He lifted his head,