Five Years Up I Reveal I'm The Richest He Kneels And Begs novel Chapter 8

Mrs. Prescott wasted no time adding fuel to the fire, pointing at the bloodied child and the

disheveled woman before her.

“Adrian, look at this! That vicious woman stole Celeste’s heirloom and hurt Lila like this! You must not let her go unpunished!”

Adrian’s gaze landed on Sienna, his expression a swirl of shock, suspicion, and something faint- almost like guilt.

But in the end, he said nothing. He didn’t question her, didn’t defend her. He simply pulled Lila tightly into his arms, his voice low and cold.

“Take her to the hospital.”

He didn’t stop them.

He let it happen–let his parents believe every accusation, let them sentence her without a word of protest.

As he turned and walked away, decisive and unhesitating, Sienna felt her world collapse.

It was as if something inside her chest had been crushed to pieces. She could barely breathe. Her fingertips went ice–cold.

The Prescott guards dragged her into the garden. The whip came down again and again, slicing through her skin. Old wounds reopened; new ones split. Pain blurred her vision until she almost

lost consciousness.

His parents stood by, indifferent.

Mrs. Prescott sneered.

“We’ve looked into you. A drunk for a father, a dying mother–trash from the gutter! Our Adrian

has been brilliant since birth, a man destined for greatness. And you–filth from the streets–you think you’re fit to stand beside him? Do yourself a favor and get out, before we strip away the last

shred of your dignity.”

The agony and humiliation swallowed her whole. Her mind went dark.

When she awoke again, she was back in that same cold bed. Her wounds had been crudely

bandaged, but the pain still burned.

The door burst open. Adrian entered without a word, grabbed her wrist, and began to drag her out.

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“Adrian! What are you doing? Let me go!”

She struggled weakly. Every pull tore at her wounds, sending waves of pain through her body.

He didn’t respond. He dragged her half conscious down the hall and into the hospital’s blood

collection room.

“Draw her blood,” he ordered curtly. “Lila lost too much. They’re the same blood type.”

Sienna’s eyes widened, disbelief and exhaustion making her voice crack.

“Adrian, can’t you see me? I’m covered in lashes–I almost died! You want my blood now?”

He took a long breath, forcing his tone gentle, almost coaxing.

“Sienna, please. Just a little. It won’t hurt much. Lila’s just a child–she needs you to save her.”

“I won’t! Why should I give my blood to her? Why?!”

All the grief, fury, and despair she had buried burst free. She screamed until her voice broke.

Her resistance snapped something in him.

Adrian’s patience evaporated. He tightened his grip painfully on her wrist.

“Why? Because she’s hurt because of you! You pushed her! This is your fault! You owe her, Sienna!

You’ll give the blood–whether you want to or not!”

He pinned her wrist down as she struggled, forcing the nurse to act.

The needle slid into her vein. Pain tore through her, her body trembling violently. She was already

too weak.

“Mr. Prescott,” the nurse murmured, uneasy, “she’s losing too much blood. We can’t take more.”

“Keep going. It’s not enough.” His voice was like ice.

By the time it was over, Sienna’s vision went white. The world spun, and she collapsed.

When she came to, she was alone again.

The nurse said softly, “Mr. Prescott is next door with Miss Harrington and the children.”

He hadn’t come to see her–only left a message.

Adrian: [Sienna, I know you’re still angry. But Lila’s injury was your fault. You need to take responsibility. Calm down and stop making a scene. I love you, always.]

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Always love her?

Sienna laughed. Her whole body shook. Her wounds reopened, blood seeping through the bandages, but she couldn’t stop laughing.

His love meant letting his parents whip her half to death.

His love meant pinning her down and draining her blood to save another woman’s child.

His love meant whispering forever while building a family with someone else.

That kind of love was too cruel. She wanted no part of it.

Despair had long since run dry–now, even hopelessness felt meaningless.

After several days, once her strength returned, Sienna quietly signed her discharge papers without telling anyone.

When she arrived back at the house, her phone rang.

“Sienna, is everything settled? It’s time to come home.”

Standing in the silent living room, she looked around, her gaze calm and empty.

She took a slow breath, her voice steady and cool.

“Yes. Everything’s settled. I’m coming home now.”

She hung up and began packing the few belongings that were still hers. With her suitcase in hand, she walked out without hesitation–leaving nothing behind, not even a trace.

Chapter 8