Five Years Wasted Now They Beg Her Back novel Chapter 308

—"Lilian is unwell, can't you just accommodate her? What's the big deal about giving a little blood?"

—"Grace, you are not worthy of being my wife."

Those voices haunted her, clinging to her like a festering wound, even from halfway across the world.

*Hooo…*

"You're the best, Grace. You're no longer the doormat they walked all over."

She repeated the words silently to herself as she pushed open the door to the backstage lounge.

The hallway was lined with a thick carpet that absorbed all sound.

Just around the corner, a figure walked towards her.

Grace's steps came to an abrupt halt.

It was a figure so deeply etched into her being that she would recognize it even if he were reduced to ash.

Damien.

The prince of the city's elite, the man who had once given her hope in her darkest hour, who had stood waiting for her in the rain.

He had lost weight.

So much so that he looked gaunt.

The expensive suit he wore seemed to hang off his frame. His face had a feverish, unhealthy flush, his lips were colorless, and his eyes were sunken, as if he hadn't had a decent night's sleep in a very long time.

Behind him, Felix and several high-level organizers from the event were trailing, wearing obsequious smiles.

"Mr. Clarke, it's a true honor for us that the Clarke family could attend as the lead investor…"

The distance between them was closing.

Ten meters.

Five meters.

Three meters.

*Run.*

Every cell in her body was screaming.

But her feet felt as if they were rooted to the spot, unable to move.

Damien had clearly seen her too.

He, who had been turning his head to listen to a report from one of the executives, stopped in his tracks.

In that instant, Grace saw a light flare in his eyes—it was surprise, hunger, and a longing that had been suppressed to its absolute limit.

He opened his mouth, as if to call her name.

His faint scent of cedar still lingered in the air. It was a scent she had once been obsessed with, but now, it only left a bitter taste in her mouth.

In the moment they passed, Grace didn't see the man, now with his back to her, suddenly cover his mouth.

*Cough, cough… cough…*

Damien suppressed the metallic taste rising in his throat as a clean white handkerchief was instantly stained with blood.

"Mr. Clarke!" Felix exclaimed, about to step forward to support him.

"Shut up."

Damien clenched the blood-soaked handkerchief tightly in his palm, shooting Felix a dark look. His voice was so low only the two of them could hear. "Don't let her hear."

He turned his head, his eyes greedily following the slender back that was gradually moving away.

As long as she was okay.

He would be willing to carve out his own heart and pave the road for her if it meant she could be.

"Let's go."

Damien turned back around, straightening his spine, like an isolated island that would never collapse.

"Go check security. Are there any vulnerabilities? I don't want anyone, or anything, disturbing her speech."