Chapter 6

Celeste stumbled out of the banquet hall. Her cheeks were burning with pain, and the blood at the corner of her mouth had already dried. She didn't call a driver and drove herself to the hospital. While the doctor treated her wounds, she stared at herself in the mirror. Half her face was swollen, the corner of her mouth was torn, and her eyes were bloodshot. What a mess she was. She tried to smile, but it pulled at her wounds, making her hiss in pain. After her injuries were treated, she got in her car and started to drive back, but was stopped by two people standing in the parking garage. They were Ophelia's parents. They blocked her car doors on both sides, saying pleadingly, "Ms. Wilde, please don't hold onto your position as Mrs. Ashford anymore. Have mercy on us and let our Ophelia take your place..." Celeste looked at them coldly. "Move." "Ophelia truly loves Mr. Ashford. Please help them be together..." "I said, move." She didn't want to get entangled any further and tried to pass them. But just as she pressed the gas pedal, Ophelia's father, Edward Hart, suddenly rushed toward the front of her car. A dull thud immediately followed. Celeste hadn't even processed what happened when she saw Edward lying on the ground, clutching his leg and wailing. Ophelia's mother, Margaret Whitmore, screamed and rushed over. She cried out, "Honey!" Celeste froze in place, her fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly. He had thrown himself at the car. He did it on purpose! Even so, she didn't have time to think about it. She could only get out immediately and rush him to the emergency room. … Ophelia hurried over in the hospital corridor. Upon seeing Celeste, she raised her hand and slapped her without a word. Celeste's face whipped to the side. Her ears were ringing. "Celeste!" Ophelia cried pitifully. "You can do whatever you want to me, but why would you hurt my parents like this?" The wound on Celeste's cheek that had just been bandaged split open again. Blood was seeping through, but she couldn't feel the pain. "Your father threw himself at my car," she said coldly. "If you're going to lie, at least make it believable!" Damien's harsh voice came from behind. "How could Lia's father possibly throw himself at your car? "Celeste, when did you become so vicious?" Celeste looked at him, her heart already torn and bleeding in pain. Now he wouldn't even investigate. He just assumed she had deliberately hit someone. He seemed to have completely forgotten how deeply he once loved her. A doctor rushed out. "The patient has lost too much blood and urgently needs a transfusion. He has Type A blood. Is anyone here able to donate?" Ophelia sobbed and shook her head. "I'm a direct relative. It's not safe for me to donate blood..." Damien's gaze fell on Celeste, and he said coldly, "She has Type A blood. Make her do it." Celeste looked up sharply. "I won't donate." "You hit him, so you should take responsibility." His gaze was menacing. "If anything happens to the man in there, I won't let you off." Celeste felt cold all over, her voice trembling as she replied, "Are you going to use my parents as leverage until they're on their deathbed again—and me too?" His pupils contracted slightly, as if her words had stung him. But the next second, he still hardened his heart and ordered Gale, "Hold her down and draw her blood." Celeste was forcibly pressed into the chair. When the needle pierced her vein, she winced in pain. The blood bag filled bit by bit, and her consciousness grew increasingly hazy. She remembered how she had been anemic in the past, and Damien would feel terrible distress even if she scraped her skin a little. But now, he had people hold her down and draw her blood to save someone who had deliberately thrown himself at her car. The darkness at the edges of the vision closed in, and she finally couldn't hold on anymore and fainted.