?<strong>Chapter 1157:</strong>


    “L-Lucas… W-What’s happening?” she stammered.


    Lucas let out a low, derisive chuckle, his expression darkening, his voice as cold as ice.


    “Lucas? You think you have the right to address me so casually?”


    His grip around her throat tightened.


    “You must have a death wish,” he said coldly.


    “Please—Mr. rk—I was wrong!” Sarai choked out, sheer panic shing in her wide eyes.


    At this point, she understood everything.


    Lucas had never been drugged. He had been putting on an act all along.


    But the real question was—how had he anticipated her n so precisely?


    And how did he identify the exact substance she used?


    Had he been aware of her scheme from the very beginning?


    No… That couldn’t be possible!


    Yet she had no time to dwell on these terrifying thoughts. Lucas’s fingers coiled around her throat like an unrelenting vice, stealing the very breath from her lungs.


    “Mr. rk… Please… Stop this…” Sarai wheezed, her hands wing desperately at his iron grip. The veins in her forehead bulged, her vision blurred, and a suffocating darkness began to creep in.


    Her face looked both agonized and grotesque.


    Lucas’s gaze was filled with pure contempt.


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    Then, without warning, he shoved her away with such force that she crashed onto the floor,nding painfully on her tailbone.


    Air flooded back into Sarai’s lungs in violent, agonizing gulps. She clutched her throat, coughing uncontrobly, her body wracked with tremors.


    Painnced through her limbs.


    She then lifted her head, her terror-stricken gaze locking onto Lucas.


    But Lucas… Lucas wasn’t even looking at her. Instead, he retrieved some tissues and meticulously wiped his hands, his movements slow. He wore a dark expression, as if he had just touched something disgusting.


    That single action stung Sarai deeply.


    Herplexion drained of all color.


    Humiliation burned in her chest, yet she dared not make a sound. She remained motionless on the cold floor, too paralyzed with fear to even breathe too loudly.


    At the Grand ins General Hospital,


    Belinda sat beside Holley, apanying her for an MRI scan.


    “How are you feeling now?” Belinda asked, her voice level but distant.


    “Much better… But I still feel a little lightheaded,” Holley admitted, her face pale.


    Belinda remained silent, her gaze fixed on some distant point, her delicate features unreadable.


    “I’m sorry, Belinda. I ruined your meal,” Holley murmured, remorse thick in her tone.


    Still, Belinda didn’t respond.


    From the moment they left the hotel until now, an oppressive weight had settled in her chest, as though invisible hands were squeezing her heart.


    The truth was undeniable. Between her and Sarai, her mother had chosen Sarai.


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