Her Marriage: The Night is Still Young-Chapter 221: It Would Be Bad to Harm the Child

Chapter 221: Chapter 221: It Would Be Bad to Harm the Child

Josephine Thompson’s fingertips were still frozen on Julian Grant’s chest.

She wasn’t unwilling.

But the shadow and fear Nathaniel Gallagher left behind were like fine thorns, suddenly piercing her heart, causing her body to tense instantly.

"I won’t force you. If you’re unwilling, I won’t compel you."

"I... I’m not unwilling." She turned her head to avoid Julian Grant’s gaze, her voice still carrying a trace of panic.

Hearing this, Julian Grant felt a sense of relief.

Then he lowered his head and kissed her gently, deepening gradually, "Josephine, I love you."

Josephine Thompson tensed up, enveloped in nervousness and fear.

She wanted to try to relax.

But she couldn’t manage it.

Clearly, the one on top of her was Julian Grant.

But she couldn’t help but think of Nathaniel Gallagher.

Think of his brutality.

Think of his fierceness.

Think of how he repeatedly overpowered and violated her.

Of course.

He wasn’t always so fierce...

When newly married, he was so gentle and gentlemanly, cautious and careful.

Just like Julian Grant was now.

"No, no." Josephine Thompson cried out in terror.

Not excitement, but true fear.

Julian Grant held her gently, "Don’t worry, I’ll be very gentle."

"No... I can’t, I... I’m not mentally prepared yet."

At the crucial moment.

She still couldn’t engage.

Her entire mind and body seemed to be instantly occupied by Nathaniel Gallagher.

In her ears, Nathaniel Gallagher’s threats replayed: "Everything about you is mine. Your heart, your body only belong to me."

"If you let another man touch you, I’ll personally kill that man..."

"Don’t do this, get up." Josephine Thompson was panic-stricken, pushing and hitting Julian Grant fiercely.

Julian Grant saw her full of terror, trembling, his heart instantly felt like it was doused with cold water.

He knew.

This was not a rejection of him, it was the shadow of the past at work.

He didn’t force her anymore, just quickly retreated to the bedside, speaking softly and slowly, afraid to further alarm her: "Okay, I’m getting up. I won’t touch you, don’t be afraid."

Josephine Thompson curled up, clutching the quilt tightly, tears uncontrollably rolling down.

She knew Julian Grant was gentle.

But Nathaniel Gallagher’s threats and those rough images surged like a tide into her mind, making it impossible for her to calm down.

"I’m sorry..."

Julian Grant looked at her trembling back, feeling heartache and urgency, but didn’t dare approach again.

He found a blanket to wrap around himself, sat at the bedside, his voice cautious and comforting: "Josephine, I’m here, don’t be afraid. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have rushed to push you. It doesn’t matter how you want to handle it, we’ll take it slowly."

"Don’t wrap the quilt too tightly, you might suffocate."

After a while.

Josephine Thompson’s sobs gradually lessened, she slowly turned over, her reddened eyes looking at Julian Grant, her voice hoarse: "I’m sorry... I didn’t mean it, it’s just... at times like this, I think of the past."

Nathaniel Gallagher was indeed her nightmare.

Just thinking of him would cause her to have reflexive responses.

"I understand."

Julian Grant reached out, gently touching the back of her hand, seeing she didn’t shy away, he continued, "This is not your fault, and you don’t need to apologize to me. We won’t force it in the future. When you feel at peace, we’ll discuss this again, okay?"

He paused, then added: "Tonight I’ll sleep next to you. If you’re scared, call me anytime, I won’t leave."

Josephine Thompson saw the earnestness and heartache in his eyes, feeling more guilty, but also slowly calming down. She nodded, speaking softly: "Give me more time."

"Alright." Julian Grant smiled gently, covered her with the quilt, and lay beside her lightly embracing her.

Josephine Thompson tried to calm herself, turned over, with her back to him.

Both laid quietly, saying nothing.

...

Meanwhile.

Audenburg.

In the presidential suite of the Gallagher Royale.

"Nathaniel, one more time..."

Evelyn Thorne almost lived in Audenburg, constantly clinging to Nathaniel Gallagher.

Of course.

Nathaniel Gallagher really didn’t want to deal with her, most of the time letting Jay Axton impersonate him.

"I want more!"

Jay Axton, drenched in sweat, said in Nathaniel Gallagher’s tone: "No, you’re pregnant, you can’t be so frequent. Be good, listen, what if it hurts the baby?"

Finishing!

He gently kissed her forehead.

Evelyn Thorne, unsatisfied, forcibly straddled his waist, "It’s okay."

"Really, you can’t."

"Don’t be such a killjoy, I say it’s fine, so it is. Why do you always turn off the lights so dark?" Evelyn Thorne said, trying to turn on the bedside lamp.

"Don’t turn on the light." Jay Axton panicked, quickly pressing her hand down.

Although his appearance resembled Nathaniel Gallagher by 70%.

It couldn’t withstand close scrutiny.

Turning on the light would easily expose the flaws.

"When are you going to divorce? It’s been delayed another week already."

Jay Axton’s heart skipped a beat.

His actions unconsciously tensed, then quickly relaxed, mimicking Nathaniel Gallagher’s usual cold tone but intentionally softened: "Why the rush? Eleanor is still lying in the hospital. Talking about divorce now, how would it look? When her condition stabilizes, I’ll naturally handle it."

He didn’t dare look into Evelyn Thorne’s eyes.

Just turned his head to stare at the curtains, afraid his nervousness would be revealed.

Nathaniel Gallagher only instructed him to "deal with" Evelyn Thorne, never taught him how to fill the "divorce" lie, nor mentioned how long he’d have to keep this up.

Moreover...

Evelyn Thorne was pregnant.

With his child.

Nathaniel Gallagher didn’t like Evelyn Thorne.

But.

Jay Axton, having slept with her multiple times, had fallen for her beyond rescue.

She was fiery, bold, enticing.

Moreover, she was the noble and precious leading lady of Caldwen.

Nathaniel Gallagher didn’t fancy her.

But to Jay Axton, she was a goddess unreachable.

Evelyn Thorne, dissatisfied, hooked his neck, her tone spoiled yet resentful: "Stable? She’s been sick for so long anyway. Do you not want to divorce? Or do you still think about that woman Josephine Thompson?"

At the mention of Josephine Thompson.

Evelyn Thorne’s voice cooled, her nails unintentionally digging into Jay Axton’s shoulder.

Jay Axton winced in pain but could only endure, continuing to pretend impatience: "Don’t talk nonsense, Josephine Thompson and I have long been over. Right now, the most important is the child in your belly, don’t dwell on nonsense."

As he spoke, he gently pushed Evelyn Thorne away, lifted the quilt and got out of bed: "I’m going to shower, you lie down."

Evelyn Thorne watched his hurried back, a hint of suspicion flashing in her eyes.

Lately.

She always felt something was off about him.

Not only did he insist on keeping the lights off every time, but even his behavior seemed deliberately restrained.

But whenever she thought about the child in her womb, she suppressed those suspicions, assuming Nathaniel Gallagher was simply too troubled by Eleanor Churchill’s affair to think straight.

...

In the bathroom.

Jay Axton turned on the shower, the cold water cascading over him, finally easing his tightly wound nerves.

He pulled out his phone to text Nathaniel Gallagher: "President Gallagher, Evelyn Thorne brought up divorce again and even asked about Josephine Thompson. I managed to brush it off for now, but she seems suspicious. What should we do next?"

The message was sent.

After a long while, he received a reply, only five succinct words: "Keep stalling, don’t get caught."

Jay Axton looked at the screen and sighed helplessly.

He wondered how much longer he would have to keep pretending in this charade of being a "stand-in."

He was even more unsure whether Evelyn Thorne would still speak to him if the truth came out.

...

The Rose Garden.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a glow on Eleanor Churchill’s pale face.

She had just woken up, already feeling a tightness in her chest and too weak to even lift her hand, more frail than the days before.

"Aunt, it’s time for your medicine." Vivian Shaw walked in with a cup of water and a tray of medication.

Her smile remained obedient and sweet.

Yet there was a subtle, almost imperceptible chill in her eyes.

She poured a variety of pills and capsules into her palm and considerately brought them to Eleanor’s lips.

Eleanor gazed at the pills and capsules in her palm, her brows lightly furrowed as she weakly voiced, "...Why does taking this medicine make me weaker? It doesn’t seem to be working at all."

Vivian’s heart skipped a beat, then she shook the bottle with a smile: "How could that be? The doctor said you’ve been suffering from extreme blood and energy deficiency; you must take your medication on time."

As she spoke, she brought the cup to Eleanor’s lips, her tone so gentle that it invited no suspicion.

Eleanor refrained from thinking further. After all, her condition had been worsening, and a change in medication seemed reasonable.

She opened her mouth, letting Vivian administer the tablets, swallowing them down with the warm water.

The moment the tablets went down.

She felt a wave of dizziness, strength draining from her body as if sucked dry, leaving her panting against the pillow.

"Aunt, are you tired? Let me help you lie down for a bit." Vivian hurried to support her into a comfortable position, ensuring the quilt was snug.

Her fingers accidentally brushed against Eleanor’s wrist.

The pulse was weaker than the day before.

Inwardly, she felt a smug satisfaction.

Every time she administered Eleanor’s medication, she quietly increased the doses.

Combining the dosage of two capsules into one.

Such hormonal drugs should not be exceeded. An overdose could lead to serious side effects.

Vivian secretly added doses each time.

With this method, even the doctors couldn’t discover a thing.

...

By the afternoon.

Eleanor Churchill’s condition had worsened.

She began to run a sporadic fever, and her consciousness grew hazy.

Vivian feigned panic, calling over the family doctor, who, after examination, frowned and said, "Why has it suddenly deteriorated so quickly? All indicators are plummeting; we must get her to the hospital immediately!"

Standing by, Vivian’s eyes turned red with "anxiety," though inwardly she was sneering.

Hopeful that it would all accelerate.

Once Eleanor Churchill could no longer hold on, everything would be well.

She followed the ambulance to the hospital.

Waiting outside the hospital room, she took out her phone to text Nathaniel Gallagher, her tone tinged with sobs: "Brother, Aunt’s condition is bad. The doctor says... says she might not hold on much longer. You should come see her quickly."

After sending the message.

She looked up at the tightly shut hospital room door, her lips curving into a cold smile.

She planned to make Eleanor Churchill disappear as soon as possible.

Removing this obstacle between herself and Nathaniel Gallagher from the world forever.

Once Aunt was gone, her brother’s heart would surely turn towards her.

...

When Nathaniel Gallagher received the message, his expression instantly darkened.

He had originally intended to find Josephine Thompson first, but the situation with Eleanor Churchill forced him to change his plans temporarily.

"Prepare the car, to Audenburg University Hospital," Nathaniel instructed the driver coldly, a hint of complexity replacing the darkness in his eyes.

He felt guilt and responsibility towards Eleanor.

Even if the feeling was no longer love, he couldn’t turn a blind eye.

In the hospital room.

Eleanor Churchill lay on the bed, her face pale as paper, her breathing so faint it was nearly imperceptible.

Vivian sat by the bedside, holding her hand, eyes red with emotion, "Aunt, you must hold on, brother is almost here."

"Clack!"

The door to the hospital room was pushed open.

Nathaniel Gallagher rushed in hurriedly.

"Eleanor, how are you?"

"Brother, you finally made it!" Seeing Nathaniel come through the door, Vivian immediately rose, her voice laced with sobs, "The doctor says Aunt’s condition is really bad, she’s been unconscious, and has a mild fever..."

Nathaniel didn’t respond verbally; he went straight to the bedside.

Gazing at Eleanor’s lifeless face.

His worry intensified, and he reached out to touch her forehead. The scorching temperature made his brow knit even tighter: "What did the doctor say?"

"The doctor said... said her organs are gradually failing, and she’ll have to rely on nutrient fluids; we’re advised to prepare for the worst." Vivian lowered her head, hiding her inner satisfaction, her voice choked with emotion, "It’s all my fault for not taking good care of Aunt..."

Nathaniel didn’t respond, his gaze landed on the tray of medication and the IV bag by the bed.

But something felt off to him.

Even though Eleanor was frail.

Just days ago, she was able to speak on video, how could her condition have worsened so fast?

He didn’t reveal his suspicions, merely told Vivian, "You should go back to rest first. I’ll stay here."

Vivian panicked inside, fearing Nathaniel would notice any flaws, and quickly said, "No need, brother. I can stay with Aunt. You must be tired after just returning..."

"Listen, go home," Nathaniel’s tone grew colder, imbued with an undeniable authority.

Vivian dared not argue further, only nodding her head, reluctantly leaving the room as she repeatedly glanced back, not forgetting to remind him, "Brother, if Aunt wakes up, please let me know immediately."

After Vivian left.

Nathaniel immediately pressed the call button at the bedside.

The doctor arrived quickly, and Nathaniel looked him in the eye, asking gravely, "Why did her condition worsen so suddenly? Didn’t previous examinations suggest she could last a while longer?"

The doctor wore a troubled expression, pulling out the medical record: "President Gallagher, we are still investigating the cause. All indicators show her organs are naturally failing, but the speed is indeed much faster than anticipated. Moreover... we’ve detected trace amounts of unknown substances in her blood, which we haven’t identified yet."

Nathaniel’s expression turned instantly cold.

Unknown substances?

His thoughts immediately went to Vivian Shaw.

These days, Vivian had been taking care of Eleanor, handling her medications and infusions.

No one else had the chance to do anything.

He refrained from exposing her right away, simply instructed the doctor, "Replace all medications and IV bags, assign your most trustworthy nurses to handle her care. From now on, no one else but your team and I are allowed to administer her medication."

"Yes, President Gallagher." The doctor quickly complied and went to arrange it.

Nathaniel sat by the bedside, watching Eleanor’s feeble breathing, a ruthless glint flashing in his eyes.

He had always thought Vivian Shaw merely relied heavily on him, never expecting her to possess such a malicious heart.

If she truly was behind this.

He would not let her off lightly.