The Millionaire And His Billionaire Ex-Wife

Chapter 207

Chapter 207 Eric closed his swollen eyes before continuing, “Mr. Fallen is actually from the 14th Team of the National Bureau of Investigation” Mr. Fallen, that day was an emergency order from the bureau This kind of order would only be recalled when something really happened. After finishing the last task, I requested a three-day delay. The injuries on his body are the punishment for disobeying the order.” The family’s civil unrest was no small matter. If not handled carefully, it could lead to the collapse of the entire structure and the risk of losing power. It was a grave situation indeed. But for your sake, Edgar would rather face punishment than postpone it for three days. Eric masked his distress and continued, “He received thirty lashes, to the point of vomiting blood. Eventually, the executor couldn’t bear it, so they stopped at twenty lashes.” Grace looked at the blood-soaked robe in her hands, bewildered. “What kind of whip could be so severe? He suffered such injuries from just twenty lashes. Vomiting blood?!”, “It’s not an ordinary whip. It’s a black whip with golden threads, covered in tiny barbs. A mere graze draws blood. Because of his burns, Mr. Fallen was able to endure the punishment on his back. The last five lashes even struck his lower back””” Eric’s voice trailed off, anger and distress consuming him. Grace couldn’t bear to dwell on the thought. How could he endure such severe punishment with an existing wound on his back? It was no wonder he encountered trouble this time. With such injuries, he risked his life for her. He didn’t want to die. He clutched the blood-soaked shirt tightly, his knuckles turning white, and tears threatened to spill. from his eyes once again. But in front of Eric, he fought to hold them back. Observing her anew, Grace knew the truth now. Although her face wore a sorrowful expression, not a single tear escaped her eyes. She realized deeply that she didn’t deserve his sacrifice. To fall in love with such a heartless woman was a tragedy for Edgar. Eric, as his subordinate and an observer, had no right to accuse Grace of wrongdoing.

Eric sighed and spoke as calmly as possible, “In truth, I came here today to bid farewell to you, Miss Grace. I’m leaving. I’m Mr. Fallen’s subordinate, and now that he’s gone, I’ll be working under the new boss. I doubt I’ll return to Frant City again, Miss Grace. Please take it seriously.” Grace merely looked at him, remaining silent. Eric lowered his eyes, filled with sorrow, and turned to walk towards the door. Two steps away, he hesitated, unwilling to leave just like that. “No one is born understanding love. Mr. Fallen, he thought Ms. Mellis was kind to him, so he forced himself to like her. Little did he know that he had fallen in love with you three years into their marriage. He never touched her.” “When you jumped off the cliff, Mr. Fallen did it under his instructions. He was unaware of it and even searched the mountains for you for over half a month, enduring torture.” “Every time you were in danger, he risked his life to save you. He endured your mistreatment and abuse without complaint. Doesn’t that touch your heart?” Eric’s words were like thousands of steel needles, piercing Grace’s heart. The pain overwhelmed her, causing every inch of her body to ache. She bit her lower lip, leaving it stained with blood. The weight of guilt and self-blame weighed heavily upon her, drowning her in sorrow. “I’m sorry” Her voice was h oar se as she uttered those three words. Eric sighed once again, suppressing the peculiar emotions in his eyes. He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. As Eric left, Grace clutched the blood stained shirt to her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. Memories flooded her mind, reminding her of the day she returned from the abandoned factory. He sat upright in the car, enduring the excruciating pain without even cu shi oning his back. As he climbed the stairs, he held onto the railing, his lower back injured. For the first time in a long time, he didn’t immediately start cooking upon his return. Instead, he made an excuse about being tired and went to rest. In frustration, she pounded her chest, each tear that fell to the floor representing an indescribable. heartache and grief. How could she have been so blind to his suffering? Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

That night, despite the unbearable pain, he had boldly embraced her, seeking solace in the warmth of her body. And how had she responded? She pushed him away and spoke hurtful words. Eric was right. He never complained about her cruelty towards him. Ele set aside his pride and humbled himself, pleading with her. “No” just let me hold you for a while, just this once” “No, please” His breath trembled with pain, yet he greedily clung to her, unwilling to let go. He endured such severe injuries, so why hadn’t he told her? Was it because he feared the guilt she would feel? Afraid that she would terminate their employment agreement because of it? What a fool she had been Grace curled-up on the reclining chair, her emotions shattered, and her body aching all over. “Nick, brother” Her throat was so h oa rse that no sound escaped, but she repeated it silently. “You used to envy me for calling Mr. Knight Mr. Nick Knight. From now on, I’ll just call you ‘Nick, okay? Can you hear me?” She locked herself in Edgar’s room for three whole days, without eating, drinking, or sleeping. No matter how Eleven and the others knocked on the door or tried to persuade her, she remained unresponsive. No matter how strong a person was, their body couldn’t endure such torment. Eleven’s bodyguards were deeply concerned but had no choice but to seek help from Patric. Patric forcefully kicked open the door to the second-floor room, only to find it empty. The sound of running water emanated from the bathroom. He approached the bathroom and switched on the light, revealing several empty wine bottles strewn across the floor. When had she emptied the wine cabinet? Why hadn’t they known, even Eleven? Patric’s gaze finally settled on the figure huddled against the shower wall. Grace still wore the black. dress she had worn on the day of the funeral. How could she have become so drunk? Patric knew his sister’s alcohol tolerance, and she had never

been drunk before. His heart ached as he gently patted her cheek, preparing to carry her out. The Millisure and His Hubonaire Exwde Grace woke up, sensing that she was cradled in a comforting embrace. Subconsciously, she clung to the man’s cuff, and her blurry eyes caught sight of a familiar face. “Edgar, is that you? You’re not dead, are you? You lied to me again, right?” Patric’s heart broke as he softly reassured her, “Girl. I’m not Edgar. “I’m Patric,” Patric whispered, his voice filled with compassion and understanding. As Grace wiped her tears and regained some clarity, she recognized Patric’s face and broke down in s obs. “Patric! He’s dead! He died for me” He suffered such severe injuries, all because of me. I pushed him away and hurt him repeatedly. It’s all my fault. How can I ever repay him?”