After His Sweetheart Moved In, He Came Home Every Night-Chapter 55: Learning of Her Ordeal, He Is Filled with Towering Rage

Chapter 55: Chapter 55: Learning of Her Ordeal, He Is Filled with Towering Rage

For a moment, Alice York thought she was going to die.

Choked to death by Kyle Churchill.

It grew harder and harder to breathe. A white light bloomed in her vision, and her pupils started to lose focus...

"BANG!"

A loud bang shook the entire car, and the hands around her neck were suddenly yanked away.

Finally able to breathe, Alice York erupted into a violent fit of coughing. Her chest trembled with each gasp, and she coughed until she couldn’t catch her breath, her eyes rimmed with red.

Someone gently pulled her up, brushing the messy hair from her face and calling her name softly. "Alice York?"

Alice York looked up.

It was Holden Locke, and his face was etched with worry.

She fought back tears. A burning sensation spread across her neck, and it was agonizing to swallow.

She opened her mouth, but her voice came out as a rasp. "Professor... Locke."

"I saw what happened in the restaurant. He’s not right in the head. I was worried, so I followed you..." Holden Locke said, still shaken. "Thank God I did. If I’d been a moment later, I can’t even imagine..."

Alice York struggled to force out the words. "Thank... you..."

Holden Locke moved to lift her out of the car. "I’m taking you to the hospital."

"No." Alice York pressed down on Holden Locke’s hand and shook her head. "It’s not that serious. I don’t... I don’t need to go to the hospital."

With that, she used his arm for support and pulled herself up.

Holden Locke steadied her. Once she was sitting up properly, he turned to look at Kyle Churchill, who was lying on the ground, crying.

He was like a little kid, legs splayed, a crying mess of snot and tears. It was a complete reversal from the violent, ruthless man who had been strangling her moments before.

Holden Locke looked away, his expression unreadable. "You’re in Washington, and you have to spend every day with this person?"

Alice York didn’t answer. She gingerly touched her neck. Without a mirror, she couldn’t see how red it was.

But Holden Locke could see it perfectly. Her entire neck was a shocking, deep red...

"You’re being forced to spend time with him, aren’t you?" Holden Locke asked.

Alice York swallowed painfully. She looked at Holden Locke and said in her raspy voice, "Professor Locke, this... this has nothing to do with you. Please... don’t ask anymore."

Holden Locke sighed, a sense of helplessness washing over him. "Alright, I won’t ask. But I have to make sure you get back to the Churchill residence safely. Is that okay?"

The implication was clear: he would follow her car.

Alice York’s silence was her consent.

Holden Locke then dragged Kyle Churchill back into the car. Perhaps Holden’s sudden intervention had scared him, because he didn’t put up a fight and sat quietly in the back.

"Don’t you move!" Holden Locke warned, pointing a finger at Kyle Churchill, his voice cold.

Ordinarily, Holden Locke had a gentle, scholarly air about him. He never spoke harshly and seemed to be the very definition of good-natured.

But now, with his sleeves rolled up, veins bulging on his taut arms, and his hair slightly disheveled, he looked nothing like that gentle scholar. He looked more like a ruffian.

Kyle Churchill was clearly intimidated and shut his mouth with a sullen pout.

Alice York fastened her seatbelt and looked back at him. "Professor Locke, thank you for today."

Her throat was still raw, and every word felt like a needle prick.

Holden Locke rolled his sleeves back down. "Don’t mention it. You and Zoe are good friends, and I’m her uncle. I’d do the same for you as I would for her."

Alice York nodded. "I’ll be on my way, then."

True to his word, Holden Locke followed their car all the way to the Churchill residence. He only drove off after he saw Alice York and Kyle Churchill go inside.

Alice York handed Kyle Churchill over to a servant and then quickly went back to her room. She opened her first-aid kit, found a tube of ointment, and began applying it to her neck in front of the mirror.

The pain had subsided a little on the drive back, but the ointment made it sting even more. She gritted her teeth, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out on her forehead.

Just then, her phone, lying nearby, began to vibrate incessantly.

The caller ID read: Wyatt Sterling.

She froze. After a moment’s hesitation, she put down the cotton swab and ointment, picked up the phone, and answered. "Third Uncle."

’Her voice was still a bit hoarse. I wonder if he can tell.’

"You’re back?"

’He knew I went out with Kyle Churchill today?’

’Then I remembered he has eyes and ears in the Churchill household, and it wasn’t surprising at all.’

She replied, "Yes, I just got back."

The ointment was starting to work, creating a torturous sensation that was both cooling and burning at once, like a trial of ice and fire.

Wyatt Sterling feigned ignorance. "Did you call me?"

"Yes."

He said, "I was in a meeting."

’Is he explaining himself to me?’

’He’s probably just making a casual comment.’ She swallowed painfully. "I see."

The line went silent.

Alice York held the phone slightly away from her ear, fighting back both physical pain and emotional anguish. Her eyes were already brimming with tears. "Is there anything else, Third Uncle?"

The moment she asked,

the line went dead.

Alice York stared at her phone as tears streamed silently down her face. ’My current predicament is all his doing,’ she thought. ’It’s useless to feel wronged. He’s just that cruel.’

A moment later, a video call request popped up on her screen.

It was from Wyatt Sterling again. Alice York didn’t want to answer.

But the call was persistent, ringing again and again until she finally accepted it.

She quickly wiped her tears, brought the phone close to her face, and put on what she hoped was a composed expression before speaking. "Third Uncle."

On the screen, Wyatt Sterling was in a car.

He took one look at Alice York’s face and saw something was wrong. "Have you been crying?"

She was holding the phone so close that her face filled the screen. She didn’t deny it. "Yeah. I had a good cry."

Wyatt Sterling’s brow furrowed. "You cried your voice raw."

’He noticed.’ 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Alice York took a sharp breath, trying to make her voice sound normal, but the intake of air only made her throat burn more. She mumbled, "I’ve just been upset. Crying on and off... I guess I cried my voice hoarse."

He was silent for a moment on the other end.

Then, after a brief pause, he asked, "What are you crying about?"

Alice York replied, "I’m homesick."

This was the first time Wyatt Sterling had seen Alice hold her phone so close—close enough that he could make out every detail of her expression. "You’re holding the phone this close on purpose," he said, "afraid I wouldn’t see you’ve been crying."

"You’re right, Third Uncle. I am doing it on purpose. I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to see that I just had a good cry." Alice York managed a strained smile. "I wonder, will this soften your heart at all?"

Wyatt Sterling’s tone was flat. "What do you think?"

"I think... COUGH COUGH... COUGH COUGH COUGH..." Alice York couldn’t suppress the itch in her burning throat. The coughing came in a fit she couldn’t stop, and each one was more painful than the last.

"What’s wrong?" Wyatt Sterling asked.

Alice York couldn’t bring herself to look at the screen. When she spoke again, her voice was even raspier than before. "I caught a cold. I don’t feel well. Third Uncle, I want to go to sleep... I’ll be better after I get some sleep... I’ll be all better after I get some sleep..."

She repeated the last phrase, her hoarse voice thick with misery.

The other end went silent again.

Alice York thought he had hung up. She reached for her phone, intending to put it on the nightstand and continue applying the ointment—it would only hurt more if she didn’t.

But as she moved the phone, she saw that the video call was still active. For a split second, her mind went completely blank.

Her neck, covered in a wide patch of red marks from where she’d been choked, was now in full view of Wyatt Sterling.

One second,

Two seconds,

Three seconds,

A towering rage seemed to blast right through the screen—

"What happened to your neck? Who did this?"