The Bigshot's Superstar Wife-Chapter 111: Drugged

Elara could feel her body burning up. A strange heat pulsed through her veins, crawling up her skin like fire licking at dry wood.

Her breaths came shallow and uneven as she paced the length of her room, clenching and unclenching her fists.

She had barely made it through dinner without collapsing, forcing herself to smile as Lawrence’s parents chatted away.

The warmth started as a dull flush at the back of her neck, but as the hours passed, it grew into an unbearable fever, an invisible force suffocating her from within.

When she reached for a glass of water, her hands trembled so badly that it slipped from her grip, shattering against the floor. The noise barely registered in her dazed mind.

What’s happening to me?

She staggered toward the door, her breath ragged, and the world spun around her. She needed help, she needed Lawrence.

The third floor of the Demerin estate was vast, but tonight, it felt endless. The dim lighting cast elongated shadows across the floor as she dragged herself toward Lawrence’s room.

The feverish haze dulled everything else, she barely felt the cold wood beneath her bare feet or the way her nightgown clung to her damp skin.

Reaching his door, she raised her hand and knocked. Once. Twice.

The door opened swiftly, revealing a shirtless Lawrence, his hair slightly tousled from sleep. His sharp gaze immediately took in her state.

"Elara?" His tone was clipped, but his eyes narrowed with concern.

She swallowed, her voice hoarse. "I... something’s wrong."

He stepped forward, gripping her shoulders. "What happened?"

"I... I don’t know." Her body swayed, and he steadied her. "I was fine earlier, but now…" She gasped as another wave of heat rushed through her. "I feel like I’m burning alive."

Lawrence’s frown deepened. "Did you eat or drink anything unusual?"

Elara shook her head, but then she hesitated. "Wait… the tea."

Lawrence stiffened. "When?"

"At dinner," she murmured, voice weakening. "But..."

Before she could finish, her legs gave out.

Lawrence caught her before she hit the ground.

"Elara!" His arms tightened around her, and she shivered against his bare skin. "Damn it."

This chapter is updated by freēwēbnovel.com.

She tried to respond, but darkness pulled at her vision, and before she could say another word, she lost consciousness.

Lawrence wasted no time. He lifted her and carried her inside, shutting the door firmly behind them.

He wasn’t about to alert the household, not his parents, not the servants.

Whatever this was, it was deliberate, and until he figured out who was behind it, he wasn’t going to let anyone else get involved.

He laid her on the bed, pushing damp strands of hair away from her flushed face. Her breathing was fast and uneven, and a faint sheen of sweat coated her skin.

Drugged.

But with what? And why?

His jaw clenched as he grabbed a wet cloth from the nearby basin and pressed it against her forehead.

Her fever was rising fast, but he needed to determine the type of drug before taking further action.

"Come on, Elara. Stay with me."

Her lips parted slightly, as if trying to respond, but only a faint whimper escaped.

Lawrence cursed under his breath.

He had seen cases like this before, certain drugs designed to weaken the body’s defenses, heighten sensitivity, and sometimes even break the mind.

It was often used in interrogations, arranged marriages, or worse. And the fact that someone had slipped it into her tea under his own roof, was unforgivable.

Elara suddenly shifted, her body arching slightly off the bed as if in discomfort. Lawrence grabbed her wrists gently, pinning her down.

"Elara." His voice was firm. "Listen to me. You need to focus."

Her dazed eyes barely opened, glassy with fever. "Lawrence…"

"I’m here." He leaned closer. "You have to tell me... what exactly do you feel?"

She struggled to form words. "Heat. It’s… inside me. Like fire."

Lawrence inhaled sharply. The symptoms were too similar to an aphrodisiac. His expression darkened.

Someone was trying to force her into a vulnerable state, either to humiliate her or manipulate her. But they made a mistake. Because she was under his protection.

And he would tear apart whoever thought they could use her like this. Elara whimpered again, her fingers weakly gripping his wrist. "Make it stop," she pleaded. "Please."

Lawrence closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself to think rationally. He needed to purge the drug from her system. Fast.

But he also needed to keep her comfortable. For now, he kept a firm grip on her shoulders. "You’re safe," he murmured, his voice lower now. "I won’t let anything happen to you."

Her breathing hitched, and he could feel the tremors running through her.

He tightened his hold slightly. "Trust me."

She exhaled softly. Despite the fever consuming her, she seemed to take comfort in his presence.

Lawrence watched her for a moment longer before pulling the covers over her. He wouldn’t leave her side, not until the drug was completely out of her system.

His hands clenched into fists. Tomorrow, he would find out who did this. And then, he would make them regret it.

Elara stirred slightly, her lashes fluttering as the fever continued to ravage her body. Her breathing was still shallow, her face flushed with heat.

Lawrence hadn’t moved from his spot beside her, watching over her with a sharp, calculating gaze.

He had wiped the sweat from her forehead multiple times, ensuring she remained as comfortable as possible, but the drug was relentless.

As dawn began to creep through the curtains, Lawrence finally allowed himself to take a deep breath.

He reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and lifted Elara slightly, supporting her head as he pressed the rim to her lips.

"Drink," he ordered softly.

She obeyed weakly, the cool liquid soothing her parched throat. Some of it dribbled down her chin, and he wiped it away carefully with the back of his hand.

Her feverish eyes opened halfway, meeting his.

"Lawrence…" Her voice was fragile, barely a whisper.

"I’m here," he reassured her.

She blinked sluggishly, her lips parting as if to say something else, but exhaustion won over, and she fell back into unconsciousness.

Lawrence clenched his jaw. Whoever did this was playing a dangerous game. His eyes darkened as he traced the rim of the empty glass with his thumb.

By tomorrow, the drug would be out of her system. And when she woke up, he would make sure she never had to go through this again.

Because the next time someone tried to hurt Elara, they wouldn’t live to see another day.