The Enticing CEO’s Chosen Bride

Boyd’s eyes trembled with suppressed emotion. “Don’t think you can scare me off with that talk.”

“You want to try me?” Yasmine’s gaze was icy as it met his, her expression devoid of any jest.

In truth, there wasn’t a shred of room for humor in this situation.

“Fine.” With that, Boyd moved toward Serana. “I’ll wait for you to get those scissors ready.”

He bent down to lift Serana, but the commotion had already drawn the doctor running over.

The sight of Serana with a pair of scissors embedded in her chest made everyone gasp, and medical staff was quickly summoned to take her away. However, Boyd grabbed one of them, looking at Chloe, “Bandage her up.”d2

The doctor, familiar with Yasmine, nodded promptly, “I’ll get the supplies.”

As the chaos subsided, Boyd faced the defiant Yasmine, who wouldn’t let him near her. “Have you considered the consequences if she really gets hurt?”

“I’m hoping she and the baby in her belly are all dead,” Yasmine taunted with a twisted smile, her lips turning pale. “You all owe me that much.”

Them.

Boyd clenched his fists tightly.

But Yasmine continued, “You could call the cops on me. With her dead and me in jail, you’ll be left to struggle through life all by yourself. It’s the most fair and square ending one could hope for.”

Boyd watched her for a long moment before speaking softly, “I won’t let them arrest you.”

“Then take your precious Serana and beat it. And don’t you dare show your face to me again.”

Yasmine’s cold laughter echoed, her lips now a stark pale.

Boyd’s eyes lingered on her chest, his hands shaking with tension. “Is this something we’ll never get past?”

Laughing, Yasmine suddenly began to peel off her hospital gown. Beneath it, she was bare. Her chest was still wrapped in bandages, as was her waist – but both were soaked in red. Blood from her chest wound trickled down her pale skin.

Despite her pallor, Yasmine’s eyes didn’t even flicker as she ripped off the gauze from her chest. The healing wound was torn open again, blood and flesh exposed.

Boyd’s eyes shook uncontrollably, and he gulped hard. Yasmine, with a twisted smile, tossed the bloody bandages to the floor. Then she ripped the bandages from her waist as well.

“We can get past this,” she said coldly to Boyd. “if these two wounds on my body leave no scars, and the baby that died inside me comes back unharmed.”

As the two stood opposite each other, Yasmine wouldn’t let Boyd get any closer.

half-naked and bleeding before the man. Their

noticed her and with a glance, she hurried to tend

so self-destructive as to refuse medical attention. But what did it matter? The scars were

was chilling. Boyd stood by, his body tense, watching

forehead and nose, and she bit down hard

of relief, wiping the sweat from her brow. “The repeated tearing of the wound is even

Yasmine cut her off, her voice weak as she lay back on

at Boyd, “The

a long time before finally following the doctor out

her eyes once since the ordeal began. Even with her wounds reopened, she harbored no

enduring half a month of grief over her lost baby, why should they think she could remain indifferent? When had she

delivering her vengeance,

a month was not enough. Otherwise, she felt she might have ended the

—

life was tougher than most. The initial attack in the graveyard had only scratched her, and now, despite this assault, she had been saved again. Her faulty heart persisted within her, and the baby, whose parentage was unknown, remained

What a pity.

went weak at the knees. She immediately called

passing out until the afternoon. Learning that Serana had been saved, she just coldly

on as he sat on the couch, his face a mask of

him, “Bryson, I see today’s events as necessary as eating and sleeping daily. I

looking back at her, a look of helpless

But couldn’t you

heal? Two months, three, half a year? Time is very tricky. Perhaps by then, my hatred wouldn’t be as strong, and

silently prepared soup beside them, never interrupting their

feeling. Hatred was

both ways. If

Opportunities were fleeting.

her soup, she and Bryson went

non-fatal shot. Maybe, just maybe, it was the best shot at saving both of you. Plus, he had no idea you were pregnant. I bet if it

bed, each movement tugging painfully

onto him for life, always there, impossible to shake off. Better to let his own girlfriend take

trouble. Keeping her

pain. No matter how many excuses he has,

are

“Myself, I guess.”

you become so keen on