"L… Lorenzo?" She stuttered, closed her eyes for a bit, and then opened it again.
She struggled to sit up gently while the man watched her with nothing but amusement in his eyes.
Or was it not?
His lips tugged gently into a soft smirk. Very gently that she almost wouldn't see that.
"How long have I been out?"
"Twelve hours," he glanced at his wristwatch and answered.
She breathed heavily as she finally sat up properly and looked around.
She was in a very huge ward. A VIP room, as they would call it and she wondered if this was not much for just fainting.
The man was still looking at her, and finally, he pressed a button on his wheelchair and it wheeled him over to her bed.
Now, she was staring directly at him.
He had very distinct, cold features, but all that she could think of was how a man as fine as him could be confined to a wheelchair.
He had piercing eyes which bore into her each time he looked at her and a sharp chiseled jawline that seemed to have been carved from stone, not to exaggerate.
His lips were tauted. They were pressed together, forming a thin line that implied a lack of emotion.
And his brows were constantly furrowed, giving the impression of perpetual disapproval even though he had barely said a word to her yet.
"T… thank you," she shook her head.
Maybe if it wasn't for him, she might have met with death the previous night.
That hitman could have killed her, and literally, no one in the world will feel bothered by her absence.
But he didn't answer her, so she asked again, "Did you catch him?"
She would really love to know who might have sent him.
Was it Nancy… or Jonathan… or his new woman, Lorraine?
Not like she had any idea why they would loathe her to the point of wanting to have her killed.
The man— Lorenzo, leaned in rather comfortably in his chair, dropped his hands on his thighs which had the tablet on it, and then twitched his lips upward.
"No… he ran."
"And you just let him leave?"
She had raised her voice before she realized it.
"Why? As you can see, I can't… run after him," he drawled and then glanced at his legs.
"I am… sorry. I really am."
"No, it's okay, Leilani."
"You know my name."
"You have your ID in your purse, Ms. Wheeler."
Leilani nodded her head, looked around again, and then clasped her hands together.
She needed to leave.
She needed to process her discharge and leave this environment before they came after her again.
She needed to run as fast as her legs could carry her.
She might not know what to do at the moment, but she knew she would sell her soul to the devil if need be just to get back at Jonathan and his family.
"I need to leave. Thank you so much for saving me, really."
"Why? I think you should rest more," he said.
"No. I am better and I need to be… home," she swallowed hard.
"Are you worried they would find you here again?"
She forced a smile, "No. I just… need to leave. I will never forget your kindness, really."
"So, you are just going to run…" he twitched his lips upward cynically and then nodded his head.
"What?"
"You're just going to run and cry. Is that not it?"
"Excuse me, you—"
"Perhaps what you need to do is to take revenge," he cut her short.
"What?"
He doesn't even know her or what she was running from?!
She screamed inwardly.
But that is where she had gotten it wrong.
A couple of hours before she regained consciousness, Lorenzo had had his informant look deeply into her and what he received was enough to understand what was going home.
"Take revenge. Do not be a weakling by running away."
"You don't know anything!" She snapped through gritted teeth.
Lorenzo shrugged his shoulders off rather indifferently and then dropped his eyes on hers.
"Maybe I do not. But, do not run. It makes you pathetic after everything they have put you through."
Something in what he said made sense but, why does it rile her up instead?
He does not even know her.
He was talking based on assumptions and for someone who was just meeting her for the first time, he had too much nerve to have spoken to her that way.
"P… pathetic?" Tears laced in her eyes, Leilani stuttered.
"You think I am pathetic for wanting to run for my life?!"
"Yes. I think you are," he answered bluntly, yet calmly.
"Hey!" She cried out.
He wheeled the chair closer to her leaving just a little bit of space between them.
"Do you know what is worse than fear, Leilani?" He asked her, his eyes pinned on hers while she looked down at him in the wheelchair he sat in rather comfortably.
"F… fear?"
"Uhm," he nodded his head.
She sniffed back the tears that rolled down her cheek and then swallowed hard.
He then breathed out. "Me."
"What?
"I will help you ruin everyone who brought tears to your eyes. I will bring them to your feet. I will make them cry, and plead for your forgiveness. In tears, I will make them worship you and wish they had never casted you away."
It sounded too good to be true.
The man talked as though he knew of her situation so well.
Heaven knows she would gladly give her soul to see all of what he had listed happen.
She would love to see Jonathan and his mother at her mercy.
For the first time in her life, she wished to have the power to make them crumble at her feet.
She wished she could have leverage over them.
"A… and… what do I do in return?" She mumbled, unsure of what answer she would be getting.
"Marry me," he proposed.