“I am Damien’s wife.”
Grace met Martin’s gaze without backing down.
“Our relationship is recognized by law.”
“As for my ‘right’…” she scoffed.
“When I donated my bone marrow to Lilian, the Hart family said the same thing.”
“They said it was Hart family business, and that I had no right to refuse.”
“And what happened?”
“They nearly killed me.”
“So now, you could say I’m allergic to the word ‘right’.”
Martin was taken aback.
He clearly hadn’t expected this seemingly gentle woman to be so tough.
“Are you comparing the Hart family to the Clarkes?” Martin took a threatening step forward.
“Don’t push your luck, little girl.”
“Damien isn’t coming back anytime soon. There’s no one here to protect you.”
“If you know what’s good for you, get out of my way.”
“Or else…” he lowered his voice, the threat in his tone undisguised.
“That leg of yours that was broken once… I wouldn’t mind having someone break it for you again.”
He was doing it on purpose.
He was prodding her scars, trying to awaken her fear.
The Grace from five years ago might have started to tremble.
“Uncle Martin,” Grace said, a strange smile suddenly appearing on her face.
“Did you know? In a lab, if you accidentally break a vial containing a virus…”
“...the first person to die is usually the one standing closest.”
Martin frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means…” Grace pointed to the security camera mounted on the ceiling.
“This is a hospital. This is the ICU.”
“If you force your way in now, or even lay a hand on me…”
“...the headlines tomorrow will be all about the second-in-command of the Clarke family assaulting his niece-in-law and forcing his way into the ICU.”
“And then, that precious reputation of yours will be in tatters.”

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