Chapter 295

Memories flooded back, making Susan tremble uncontrollably.

Those four years of imprisonment in utter darkness were like a sharp knife, relentlessly carving into her heart.

Though the guards had tormented her, at least they'd stopped touching her after her failed suicide attempt.

Back then, she'd had Vincent King by her side.

Now, she was about to be locked away in another lightless cage, forced to endure that man's abuse day after day.

"Let me go!"

Susan struggled desperately, using every ounce of strength left in her bound limbs.

The man's face darkened as he roughly shoved her into the trunk.

Darkness swallowed her, and Susan's heart sank into despair.

She would never see Daniel again.

Or Ethan Sullivan.

"Ah!"

A scream pierced the night.

The trunk suddenly opened, her restraints were undone, and she fell into a pair of warm, strong arms.

"Susan, I'm sorry I'm late."

Alexander Grant's voice was deep and steady.

Patrick Pope stood nearby, his expression tense.

"You're dead!"

The drunkard scrambled up from the ground and lunged at Alexander with a snarl.

Patrick moved to intervene, but someone was faster.

Ethan Sullivan kicked the drunkard flying, then planted a foot on his chest.

"Please, spare me, Young Master Sullivan!"

Recognizing Ethan, the drunkard instantly cowered.

"You dare lay hands on my sister?" Ethan sneered, raining down punches and kicks.

The drunkard curled into a ball, muttering Candy Wilson's name between curses, his eyes burning with hatred.

"To the hospital," Alexander ordered, his brow furrowing at the sight of Susan's swollen cheek and bleeding wrist.

"No need. I have medicine at home."

Susan tried to wriggle free, but his grip only tightened.

"Susan, I've got to go," Ethan suddenly announced, shooting Alexander a meaningful look. "Alexander, she's all yours."

"Mm."

Ethan nodded in satisfaction, then turned to Patrick. "What are you standing around for? Third wheel much?"

"I—" Patrick looked wounded.

Without waiting for an explanation, Ethan dragged him away.

Susan gaped.

Had her brother just played matchmaker?

Worse, her injuries weren't limited to her wrist. How was she supposed to treat the scrapes beneath her clothes?

Just the thought of being alone with Alexander made her pulse race.