Deep love: insatiable lover

-What is it?

The phone call was the hurried, anxious voice of a subordinate, thick with guilt:

-Sir, Miss Brisa has committed suicide.

-What?

-She really did commit suicide. She was found in a coma due to blood loss and is being resuscitated. What should we do?

Damn it, I couldn’t believe I had failed in my duty to watch out for people and let Brisa really kill herself this time.

Luckily, they found her in time, otherwise she would have been in danger by now.

Dylan grimaced, his hands involuntarily clenched around his phone.

-I’ve got it, I’m on my way now.

In any case, Brisa had committed suicide and he, as her fiancé, should have gone to see her.

It was a big deal, but since Peaceful City was under Dylan’s control, he could keep it a secret.

At least Vincent would not know for a while, and by the time he did, the situation would have stabilised.

This was Dylan.

He would never let someone else’s hands get hold of him.

Except, of course, the current Vanessa.

Dylan stood up, frowning in annoyance.

He smoked a cigarette in the living room and then returned to the bedroom.

Vanessa continued to hold the same position.

This time Dylan didn’t come any closer, nor was he as upset and unhinged as before.

His voice was calm and so was his gaze:

-Brisa has committed suicide and is in hospital in resuscitation, I’m going to go and check now. Behave yourself and I’ll take you home myself in the morning.

Receiving no response from Vanessa, Dylan laughed bitterly and turned to leave.

-Suicide?

The person in the bed murmured in a voice only he could hear.

And why did Brisa kill herself? Could it be that Dylan had been preaching to her that someone would hurt her and that’s why she killed herself?

But how could that be?

Brisa was Dylan’s fiancée. With such a position of respect, how could Dylan be cruel to her and punish her for being a plaything?

Who knew what caused Brisa’s suicide, maybe it was an affair between them.

It didn’t matter, it was none of your business.

Hospital.

-Sir.

The bodyguard guarding the outside of the resuscitation room immediately bowed in greeting when he saw Dylan arrive.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

-What’s going on? Where did he get the stuff to slit his wrists?

-Miss Brisa had secretly hidden a knife and slashed her wrists. When the maid knocked on the door during dinner and there was no answer, we opened the door and went in when we thought something was wrong. When we got to the bathroom we saw Miss Brisa sitting in the bathtub, her wrists still bleeding and unconscious.

-Are you sure it’s a real coma? -Dylan said in an icy tone, with a hardness in his eyes.

-Of course.” After a pause, the bodyguard said with a strange expression. But from what I’ve seen, Miss Brisa’s coma is not really due to blood loss. It is most likely due to blood phobia.

After all, judging by the amount of blood at that moment, Brisa had not been cutting her wrists for long.

That is, she had already prepared for this suicide.

If he had really attempted suicide, the body would have been hard by the time the guards found him in the afternoon.

So obviously he just wanted to make a scene and he wanted to get out of his current situation.

The injury was real and the suicide was fake.

-He should have calculated for dinner first and then purposely slit his wrists early.

When the bodyguard finished, he was silent, not daring to speak again.

It used to be a case of concern, and when they saw Brisa lying motionless in a bathtub stained red with blood, they thought Brisa had really committed suicide.

When the ambulance arrived and took them to the hospital to calm down, suspicions crossed their minds.

Dylan pursed his lips, his eyes cold and sharp as he stared at the door to the resuscitation room.

As it was not that serious, the people inside should leave soon.

Indeed, it didn’t take long for the lights to go out in the operating theatre.

Soon the nurse wheeled Brisa out in a wheelchair, her arm still in a sling and her injured wrist wrapped in thick gauze. Silently, she lay on the bed, a little pale.

-How is she? -Dylan asked in a cold voice.

-It was found in time, nothing major. The wound on the wrist is not too deep, but it will still leave a scar. You can try to remove it with a laser when the wrist has fully recovered, it will still leave a mark more or less.

-Thank you.

Dylan looked at Brisa, his eyes cold and without the slightest warmth.

-Sir.

Dylan pursed his lips and said nothing as he followed.

After settling Brisa in, ordering his bodyguards to keep an eye on her and blocking out the good news, Dylan did not hesitate to leave.

He did not stay with Brisa all night, as he had done in the past when she was ill, seriously or not.

If Brisa knew that her ruthless suicide had only made Dylan despise her even more, she would surely regret it to death.

Expecting Dylan not to return all night, I was surprised to hear the door open.

Vanessa quickly closes her eyes and pretends to sleep.

These days, she performed at a much higher level, pretending to be asleep with perfection.

Combined with Dylan’s irritable mood and the fact that he had been drinking, it was surprising that he didn’t notice his disguise.

Vanessa is annoyed that he had stayed by her side all night.

Only in the last part of the night, Vanessa could not resist falling asleep.

When Vanessa woke up again it was almost midday.

Dylan had said he would send her back in the morning, but as she herself was still asleep and not awake, Dylan would of course not wake her up and send the person back.

I couldn’t even wait for Vanessa to go back to sleep, preferably until the evening, so that I could postpone another day.

Vanessa pretended to be in shock and let out a scream.

-Ah!

-Don’t be afraid, it’s me.

Dylan hurried to his feet, his voice soft and reassuring.

Vanessa didn’t listen and kept screaming in terror.

-Don’t be afraid, no one can hurt you.

Dylan’s voice was a little breathy, and he looked at Vanessa with furrowed brows, unable to tell what was going on inside him.

With a snort of annoyance, Dylan turned away.

He feared that if he stayed any longer he would lose all patience and be rude to Vanessa.

-Sir, are you making lunch now?

-Where is the breakfast? Is it warming up?

-It’s on the move.

The maid hastened to say.

-You don’t need to make lunch, bring breakfast.

-All right.

Dylan picked up the tray himself and turned around to go back to the bedroom.

-Let’s eat, I’ll take you back later.

Vanessa didn’t react, she just looked at him suspiciously.