Chapter 194
Sienna stood still, watching Jarred’s silhouette slowly vanish at the end of the corridor.
His posture remained straight, his strides steady and composed. He looked exactly as he always did—the untouchable, arrogant Jarred Sterling.
But along the path he had walked, several drops of dark crimson stained the white hospital tiles, glaringly obvious against the pristine floor.
Sienna stared at the blood, her brow furrowing slightly.
It was a shame she hadn’t stabbed Celeste instead.
But then again, stabbing Jarred was fine, too. She had wanted to end both of them for a long time.
Sienna tore her gaze away, turning her back on the hallway as if she had just witnessed something repulsive.
Around the corner of the corridor, Jarred finally stopped walking.
Hearing her eager footsteps rushing in the opposite direction, the last shred of delusional hope in his heart shattered.
He leaned heavily against the wall, pressing a hand over the wound on his chest. His palm quickly grew damp with fresh blood.
He closed his eyes, and his mind was instantly flooded with the image of Sienna’s face as she signed the papers.
She had signed it so effortlessly, so decisively, without a second of hesitation.
She looked like a captive finally waking up from a relentless, suffocating nightmare.
Jarred let out a hollow, self-deprecating laugh.
He had done countless absurd things in his life. He had disappointed many people.
But he never imagined that, one day, he would become the monster in someone’s nightmare.
Especially hers.
Jarred swallowed the bitter emotions clawing at his throat and pushed himself off the wall, preparing to leave.
He barely took one step before a violent gust of wind rushed at his face.
A heavy punch slammed brutally into his jaw.
The force was devastating. His head snapped to the side, and the metallic taste of blood instantly flooded his mouth.
Jarred’s expression darkened. The heartbreak in his eyes vanished, replaced by lethal instinct as he raised a fist to retaliate.
But the moment he saw who had hit him, his hand froze in midair.
Jonathan Coleman stood there, his eyes bloodshot, radiating an overwhelming aura of pure fury.
Before Jarred could even speak, Jonathan’s rage rained down on him. “You didn’t even know if your own wife was sick or not! You are completely beyond redemption p>
Jarred furrowed his brows, suppressing the burning anger and physical agony. “What are you talking about p>
“What am I talking about?” Jonathan took a step forward, glaring into Jarred’s eyes. “Ask yourself, in the past seven years, did you ever genuinely pay attention to her?
Did you honestly think her emotional crashes were a medical condition? She didn’t have a disease! She was driven to the edge by you p>
Jarred said nothing.
His silence acted as a fortress, locking all his turbulent emotions behind a wall of ice.
But there was a microscopic tremor in his pupils, as if an invisible blade had just pierced his soul.
He opened his mouth, his voice hoarse in a way he didn’t even recognize. “What did you say p>
“Sienna was never mentally ill!” Jonathan roared. “Every single time she broke down in my office, who do you think it was about?
It was because of your endless scandals. Because of your blatant favoritism. Because you made her swallow every drop of humiliation.
Every bit of her suffering, every ounce of her torment, was entirely your doing p>
Jarred just stood there. On the outside, he remained perfectly still, but internally, an intricate network of cracks shattered his entire reality.
It was as if he had been violently dragged out of a seven-year-long dream. The blinding glare of his own hypocrisy left him disoriented and terrified.
Watching his stunned reaction, Jonathan let out another cold sneer. “Do you still think you treated her so wonderfully?
Sienna gave you seven years of her life. She burned her youth for you, gave you her whole heart, and in the end? She walked away without a single dime p>