He yanked my hair and dragged me all the way to the master bedroom.
The doctor, wiping sweat from his forehead, spoke urgently.
"President, Miss Alison, shows signs of food poisoning. Though we’ve stabilized her for now, we need to know exactly what the lady put in the food to prescribe the correct treatment…"
Blake shot me a vicious glare. "Speak! What exactly did you do?"
I truly didn’t know what to confess. "This has nothing to do with me."
Blake sneered coldly and shoved me in front of the doctor. Then, he grabbed a bottle of alcohol and poured it over me.
The exposed burns on the backs of my hands flared with sharp, stabbing pain, like countless needles digging in. I gasped and nearly fainted.
But he wasn’t finished, his cold, hard shoe sole pressed down on my wounded hand.
The doctor, seeing the situation spiral out of control, couldn’t help but step in to persuade him. "President Jennings, Madam just got out of the hospital. If the wound gets infected, it could be life-threatening..."
But Blake remained indifferent and said coldly, "If you don't tell the truth, you won't be needing these hands anymore!"
I slowly lifted my head to look at him. "Do as you wish."