Chapter 546

Ishara felt a strange confidence stir within her.

'Did Lawrence really think their relationship had reached its end?' A faint, cunning smile flickered across her lips as she dismissed the thought.

"Mr. Rodriguez is waiting for you inside. Quit dawdling, or you'll regret it," hissed the bodyguard, a man in Jeremy's employ who detested this manipulative woman to his core.

The moment the villa's gate creaked open, Ishara caught sight of Lawrence, legs crossed in an imposing manner, seemingly awaiting her like the grim reaper himself. His eyes, devoid of emotion, flashed with a loathing sharp as daggers.

Her usual composure faded, replaced by a bewildered and pitiable expression as she stood at the doorway. "Lawrence, why have you brought me here?"

Lawrence lifted his gaze and exhaled smoke, his voice calm yet distant. "Don't you like it here? A place tailor-made for you. It's time you paid for your deeds."

The chill in his voice was palpable. Ishara wasn't fearless; alone with him, every inch of his gaze sent shivers down her spine. Putting on a brave face, her eyes brimming with tears, she lamented, "Lawrence, what have I done? I just saved your mother. I don't understand what price you expect me to pay. I've kept my promise to you, and you promised we'd have a child together. Are you going back on your word now?"

A sneer crept onto Lawrence's face as he rose, his towering figure moving menacingly toward her. Before she knew it, his cold grip was around her neck.

She gasped.

Within the haze of smoke, his eyes held an eerie nonchalance. "Would my mother have gotten leukemia without you? A woman like you deserves a fate worse than death. Settle in, your reckoning has come."

Ishara's complexion drained. Her breath quivered involuntarily as she locked eyes with his cold, handsome face and protested in denial. "I don't understand what you mean. Did Winnie say something to you? Lawrence, it was you who sought me out to donate bone marrow. Do you and Winnie have any evidence for your suspicions?"

In Lawrence's eyes, her defensive plea was nothing, but a veiled provocation.

His gaze grew darker as he threw her to the ground with a forceful shove. "I've tolerated you for a month. Do I really need evidence now? It doesn't matter if you admit to it or not. You just need to confess that you kidnapped Oscar from Darcy's custody and hid him away!

"You think you're in the clear because you assume I don't have evidence? That I can't bring you to justice?"

"And what justice do you want me to face?"

"The kind that ensures you suffer through tonight."

With a chuckle and a flash of impatience in his blood-red eyes, Lawrence tossed her onto the ground. Crushing out his cigarette, he beckoned a bodyguard over with a composed tone, "You wanted a child so badly, how could I not oblige? Could you give her a taste of the whip? If she doesn't divulge Oscar's whereabouts by tonight, along with whether or not he's safe, find a homeless guy under a bridge to fulfill Ishara's wish."

He rose, his long legs taking deliberate steps as he prepared to exit.

"Lawrence, how could you treat me like this? I knew from the start you never intended to give me a child of your own."

Her body trembled with rage. She just hadn't anticipated that to get back at her, he would stoop so low as to have her defiled by a vagrant. Despite his noble stature, he could be so cruel and unfeeling toward her, so utterly inhuman. It seemed she had become the most loathed existence in his heart, less to him than a thorn.

"Don't touch me."

As the bodyguard lifted Ishara, she struggled, flailing her limbs. It was then that she saw the room was barren. Except on the sofa lay a couple of whips, and in a shadowy corner stood a brazier and knives. Even without a fire, it was enough to drain all warmth from Ishara.

Lawrence was a nightmare, worse than she ever imagined. He didn't care if the Blanchet family came looking for her. A wave of paralyzing fear filled her chest.

She couldn't linger here for long, not truly.

With Lawrence's ruthless efficiency, there was no delaying him. Watching his cold silhouette exit the doorway, Ishara followed. She couldn't afford to put herself at risk. "Lawrence, let me go first. We can talk it over calmly. If you harm me now, you'll deeply regret it."

He turned, his dark eyes stained with the shadows of past bloodshed. "Regret? I'll bury that word with you in your coffin. Even if you reveal where Oscar is, I won't let you off lightly. However, if you don't cooperate, I'll ensure you suffer the consequences immediately."

Ishara looked at the approaching bodyguard wielding a baton, fear diluting her pupils' crimson. Just then, Lawrence's phone rang abruptly.

She glanced at his vibrating pocket. In a flash, the chill in her eyes receded, replaced by a determined, icy smirk.

The tension in her gaze eased as her mouth twisted into a strange smile.

Lawrence had no intention of acknowledging the constant buzzing of his smartphone, yet as the device rang out twice consecutively, its persistence was hard to ignore.

He retrieved his phone, studying the caller ID with furrowed brows, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Glancing at his bodyguard, who was escorting Ishara back inside to confine her, Lawrence headed towards the outdoors. The sky was shrouded in clouds, and the ominous rumble of an impending downpour echoed in the air, accompanied by fierce winds.

Pressing the answer button, he spoke, "Dad, what's up?"

On the other end was Bob's voice, steady and unreadable. "Did the surgery on your mother go well?" he inquired.

"It was a success."

"Good." Despite the stoic start, Bob's tone shifted slightly, urgency laced within. "Lawrence, where have you taken Ishara? Eleanor approached me in a state of hysteria, revealing something alarming. It would be wise to surrender Ishara immediately. Did you realize she's carrying your child?"

Thunder cracked violently overhead.

As the torrential rain began to pour, soaking Lawrence's sharp features, he remained still for a moment, his expression unchanging, as he scoffed dismissively, "Dad, whatever nonsense this mother and daughter are spouting, you don't have to believe it."

"A pregnancy test, clearly positive and authenticated by the hospital's seal. Ishara is two weeks pregnant! You cannot evade responsibility after engaging with her. This child is the future grandchild of the Rodriguez family, and it's wonderful news. If anything were to happen to Ishara's pregnancy, not only would the Blanchet family hold you accountable, but so would I. Review the news; your behavior today was disgraceful, laying hands on Ishara. It's unacceptable! My helicopter will be arriving at the North Hill Villa shortly. Release her!"

Lawrence barely heard a word Bob said after that.

His thoughts were in turmoil, struggling with the reality of Ishara's pregnancy and the existence of a test.

He felt as if he'd plunged into an icy pit. Putting away his phone, he turned back with a dark, brooding look and glared chillingly at the mansion's doors. His gaze was haunting, cold as a deep pool.