Who Cares About Him When I'm Married to the Richest Man?-Chapter 42: He Has No Confidence in His Self-Control
Rosalind Jacobs signaled to the four male models, who understood her meaning and walked toward Elara Hale with malicious intent.
"Miss, you shouldn’t force yourself after taking the drugs. Let us help you!"
"We’re not just boasting; our skills are quite good. It costs tens of thousands each time to book us at a bar!"
"Today, we’re offering our services for free!"
Listening to these vulgar words, Elara Hale felt extremely disgusted, but as soon as these people touched her arms, her body leaned toward them uncontrollably, instinctively wanting more...
She loathed herself like this, digging her nails into her palms, suppressing her body’s primal urges. Her lips were bitten until they bled, filling her mouth with the taste of iron, only feeling humiliated...
Rosalind Jacobs looked on with glee, saying smugly, "Elara Hale, enjoy the gift I’ve prepared for you. After today, you’ll be famous all over Northgarde!"
After speaking, she instructed one of the male models, "Don’t just have fun, remember to record a video, and don’t let her die."
Elara Hale, being held by several people, was filled with regret and despair. She should have taken a taxi and left immediately; perhaps there would have been a glimmer of hope. Now... she didn’t even have the strength to shout, how could she escape?
Rosalind Jacobs was very pleased with the current situation and was about to leave when a shadow suddenly fell behind her. Startled, she turned back to see Zion Fitzwilliam looking at her with a grim expression!
"When did you get here?" Rosalind Jacobs frowned immediately, disdainfully saying, "Stay away from me, don’t let your stench of poverty taint me!"
Zion Fitzwilliam looked at her coldly, a dangerous glint in his dark eyes. He suddenly raised his hand and grabbed Rosalind Jacobs’s arm, his voice deep and questioning, "What did you do?"
Rosalind Jacobs screamed in pain, "Ah! Let me go! You bastard... ah!"
She didn’t finish cursing because Zion Fitzwilliam increased his grip by a fraction, causing Rosalind Jacobs to turn pale with anguish, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead.
"Let, let me go... it hurts..."
Zion Fitzwilliam’s eyes seethed with suppressed anger, and he repeated, sounding as if he were forcing the words out between gritted teeth, "What did you do to her?"
"I... I just put a little something in her drink..." Inwardly filled with malice, Rosalind Jacobs had no choice but to confess honestly, "I didn’t manage to do anything else..."
Zion Fitzwilliam glanced at the four male models, understanding everything instantly. He flung Rosalind Jacobs aside, sending her falling to the ground, and strode over to Elara Hale. He glanced at the four male models, his voice carrying a hint of warning, "Let her go."
The four men looked at each other, and for some reason, instinctively released their grips.
Elara Hale, her body weak, began to slide down, and Zion Fitzwilliam caught her in his arms, holding her close. His sharp gaze swept over the four men, sternly commanding, "Get lost!"
The four male models, scared out of their wits, didn’t even care about Rosalind Jacobs and immediately turned to run away.
Zion Fitzwilliam bent down, picked up Elara Hale horizontally, and turned to the roadside to hail a taxi.
Rosalind Jacobs lay on the ground, feeling as if all her bones had been shattered from the fall awhile ago.
She glared venomously at Zion Fitzwilliam’s departing figure, silently gritting her teeth.
Damn it, she swore she’d pay him back for this someday!
At that moment, a gentle, polite voice spoke up behind her, "Miss, did you accidentally fall? Do you need help?"
Rosalind Jacobs turned her head to look; it was a stranger she hadn’t seen before, who looked scholarly, wearing gold-rimmed glasses with a friendly demeanor.
His clothes, however, were shabby and unimpressive.
Rosalind Jacobs quickly made up her mind, then snapped, "What’s it to you? Get lost!"
Andrew Chambers was taken aback for a moment, seemingly not expecting someone so pretty to have such a bad temper.
But he still kindly offered, "I noticed your dress is torn and you’re not wearing a jacket. If you need, I can lend you mine."
Saying that, he took off his jacket and offered it to her.
Rosalind Jacobs looked down, realizing only then that her short skirt had torn from the fall earlier, exposing herself. Her face stiffened as she glared at Andrew Chambers angrily, "Turn around! If you keep looking, I’ll blind you!"
Andrew Chambers quickly turned around, his back to her, but his hand with the jacket stayed extended.
With a somber face, Rosalind Jacobs snatched the jacket without a word, tied it around herself, and without even looking at Andrew Chambers, turned and walked back to the club.
Back in the booth, Cecilia Quincy saw her state and asked worriedly, "Rosalind, are you alright?"
Rosalind Jacobs waved her hand dismissively, grumpily saying, "Don’t mention it."
Seeing her like this, Cecilia Quincy briefly showed disappointment, but it was fleeting, going unnoticed even by the nearby Mason Jacobs.
Rosalind Jacobs picked up a wine bottle, poured herself a glass, and downed it in one gulp, feeling slightly less resentful. She looked at Mason Jacobs, passing her phone over, "Brother, listen to this."
Mason Jacobs flicked some ash from his cigarette, took the phone, and asked, "What’s this?"
He played the recording.
The next second, hearing its content, his expression changed drastically!
"Tell your brother... I’m tired of seeing his face... With four male models, I can finally enjoy myself..."
His face darkened, gripping the phone so tightly it seemed like it might crack. After a while, he looked up at Rosalind Jacobs, "Did Elara Hale say this?"
Rosalind Jacobs nodded, pretending to be angry, "I ran into her at the club entrance and saw she had four men with her. She said she had ordered male models herself. I tried to persuade her not to fool around, but she said those things... Brother, she never cared about you!"
Mason Jacobs’s face was dark with coldness in his eyes, "She’s really gone wild!"
Four men, why didn’t he know she could play like that before?
Isn’t she afraid of ruining herself?
Mason Jacobs expressed his disgust, "Don’t tell me anything about her in the future, it’s disgusting!"
He had foolishly thought Elara Hale really loved him and was even moved when she spoke those words. In the end, was it all just her pretending with deep affection, actually quite degraded?
Hearing this, Rosalind Jacobs hesitated; this wasn’t her intention. She wanted to use this to get her brother to thoroughly get rid of this problem! But now, she couldn’t say anything more and had to swallow her words.
Cecilia Quincy lowered her head, gently stirring her coffee with a spoon, still presenting her usual obedient and gentle demeanor.
Elsewhere, Zion Fitzwilliam got into a taxi with Elara Hale, only to find her condition far worse than he had anticipated!
She couldn’t even recognize him and had completely lost her reason, snuggling closer to him, proactively offering herself. Her eyes half-closed, her cheeks flushed, her expression longing, alluring without realizing it...
Zion Fitzwilliam took a deep breath to quell his agitation, instantly changing his plan, telling the taxi driver, "Sir, to the hospital."
This situation couldn’t be resolved by a cold shower at home. He had no confidence in his self-control, so the hospital seemed more reliable.
