Shattered Illusions: Love, Lies, and Redemption

Lizzy stormed into Maple Cottage, her figure brimming with frustration as she disappeared into the house. Remington exited the car, watching her until she vanished from view, a self-satisfied smirk on his lips, though his deep eyes were turbulent with concern. He didn't relish being seen as the antagonist, but he couldn't ignore the fact that Jerome was inside Maple Cottage, poised to swoop in at any moment. Remington was genuinely uneasy about Jerome's proximity to Lizzy.

As Remington mulled over his thoughts, he unexpectedly saw Lizzy, who had just entered, supporting a tall figure as they both emerged from the cottage. It was none other than Jerome, leaning heavily on Lizzy, looking as if he might collapse at any moment. Remington's He strode over briskly. "What's going on?" he demanded.

handsome face darkened at the sight.

"My stomach's acting up. I need to go to the hospital," Jerome replied.

Lizzy hadn't anticipated running into Jerome feeling unwell just as she walked in. "I'll handle it; you get in the car," she instructed.

Before Lizzy could respond, Remington had already taken Jerome from her and was guiding him toward his Bentley. The Dashiell family chauffeur was already prepared, having turned the car around. Concerned for Jerome, Lizzy accepted Remington's assistance and slipped into the back seat without protest. Remington had no intention of letting Jerome sit too close to Lizzy. He planned to enter the car first and then help Jerome in.

However, as Remington was about to get in, Lizzy leaned out, "Bro, watch your head."

Momentarily caught off guard by Lizzy's concerned expression, Remington hesitated just long enough for Jerome to slip into the car first, holding his stomach and reassuring Lizzy, "Don't worry too much, I can manage..."

Despite his words, Jerome stretched his legs out without concern, leaving no room for Remington to sit beside him. "There's no space back here, and if I get sick, it'll be a problem for Mr. Dashiell. Perhaps Mr. Dashiell should take the front seat."

Jerome's face was pale, but he

maintained a polite demeanor and offered Remington an apologetic smile. Standing by the door,

Remington felt a pang of jealouenetThis content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

seeing Jerome and Lizzy sitting

close together in his car. Lizzy, noticing his hesitation, urged him impatiently, "Come on, hurry up! We can't waste time!"

Ine

Remington clenched his fists, slamming the car door with such force that the entire vehicle seemed to shake During the drive to the hospital, a cold tension emanated from the front seat, chilling the atmosphere. The chauffeur dared

not utter a sound.

In the back seat, Lizzy tenderly dabbed at the sweat on Jerome's forehead with a tissue, her concern never waning. "Just hold on, we're almost there."

"Did you drink at dinner? I've told you to cut back on alcohol with your stomach condition. Why don't you ever listen?"

"Does it hurt a lot? Is there any warm water in the car?"

"Can we go a bit faster, please?"

"Maybe you should lie down; it might be more comfortable..."

When Lizzy suggested Jerome lie down, Remington, who had been brooding with an intense glare, twitched slightly at the corner of his eyes. The back seat was only so large; where on earth did she expect Jerome to lie down? On her lap? Without waiting for a reply, Remington abruptly commanded, "Stop the car!"

The chauffeur, employed by the Dashiell family, immediately pulled over to the curb, anxious that even a moment's delay might result in serious repercussions. The sudden halt caused both Lizzy and Jerome, who had been resting on her shoulder, to lurch forward. Lizzy, being alert, managed to steady herself, but Jerome, with his eyes closed and weakened state, bumped his head. Lizzy's beautiful brows furrowed in concern.