Chapter 89

Susan Thompson found Andrew Lucas utterly incomprehensible.

Her fingers clenched tightly, nails digging deep into her palms.

"Mr. Lucas, I don't understand what you mean," she forced out through gritted teeth, her voice trembling with suppressed fury.

"Stop pretending to be innocent," Andrew sneered, his dark eyes burning with cruelty. "Tell me—how many times have you slept with Ethan Sullivan?"

"You're despicable!" Susan's entire body shook with rage. "Ethan and I have never crossed that line!"

"Pathetic act," Andrew scoffed, gripping her chin roughly. "Susan, you disgust me."

The first time she heard those words, they had torn her apart.

Now, after hearing them so often, she felt nothing but numbness.

"Mr. Lucas," she closed her eyes wearily. "I need your help."

"Michelle Thompson committed murder, and Bruce Bowman is forcing Bella Quinn to take the blame. You were there—please testify for her."

The image of Bella covered in blood made her throat tighten.

"Greenhill Prison will kill her... Please..."

Andrew suddenly released her, his lips curling into a cruel smirk.

"Begging me? Is this how you ask for favors?"

Susan lowered her head, her voice barely audible. "Please... save Bella..."

"Fine." He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Entertain me. If you satisfy me, I'll help her."

Her head snapped up, her face deathly pale.

"I'm injured... Can't you ask for something else?"

"Injured?" His gaze darkened. "Yet you still had the energy to seduce Ethan?"

A phone rang abruptly.

After answering, his lips twisted into a mocking smile.

"Trying to use a pregnancy to bail Bella out? Too bad... Bruce killed that child."

Susan's legs gave way, and she barely caught herself against the wall.

That was his own flesh and blood...

How could these men be so heartless?

"Entertain me," Andrew commanded coldly. "Or I'll make sure she rots in that cell."

Mechanically, she followed him inside.

The air in the living room was suffocating.

Trembling, she stepped forward, her lips bleeding from how hard she'd bitten them.

It didn't matter... She was dying anyway...

It didn't matter... She was already tainted...

"Take it off," he ordered icily.

Her coat clung to her wounds, and tearing it away sent sharp pain shooting through her, nearly making her black out.

Her stomach churned with agony, but she didn't dare stop.

As her clothes fell to the floor, the cold air bit into her skin.

"Kneel," he commanded, looking down at her with disdain. "Beg me to take you."