Pathological Possession: Even Death Will Not Part Us-Chapter 14: Phoebe Grant Catches Them in Bed

They’d only talked face to face that one time during the traffic jam, but in private, ever since Eleanor graduated and came back, Damian would deliberately take a detour to pass by her company every day on his way to work, just to catch a distant glimpse of her.

Rain or shine.

"Enough." Mr. Grant cut her off. "A married couple is a unit—trust is the foundation. When I was out drinking with clients and came home drunk, did your mother ever suspect me? In these past few years, Eleanor has seen Damian so few times you could count them on one hand. The talk about her being pregnant is complete nonsense."

Eleanor happened to hear the last sentence as she was coming downstairs, and her heart clenched with sourness.

Mr. Grant was the epitome of a strict father—sparing with words, rarely smiling.

She hadn’t expected him to be the only one in the Grant Family who believed her.

Elaine White entered the room as well.

The two sat together on the side sofa, Eleanor with her hands behind her back. Elaine wrote in her palm, "Aethel is a no-go."

Eleanor tensed up instantly.

Elaine then wrote, "First Municipal Hospital works."

Eleanor lowered her eyes, rapidly running through her options.

The head of gynecology at First Municipal Hospital had been bribed, which meant she’d pass the medical exam, but then there would be Mr. Bolton’s pulse diagnosis. Cillian hadn’t mentioned when Mr. Bolton would be arriving in Soldane Province.

It could be as soon as tomorrow’s checkup, or it might be postponed.

Tonight, she had to find a way to figure it out.

"I’ll find another master to help with the wedding date," Damian’s gaze flickered over Eleanor, repressed and surging. "But I want the Grant Family to promise never to follow me, question my whereabouts, or make any more baseless accusations."

Cillian stayed silent, looking at Damian, then at Eleanor, and then catching Phoebe’s pleading look.

"Whenever a relationship goes wrong, it’s never just one person’s fault." He stood up from the sofa, his eyes cold and stern. "You never gave Phoebe enough security. You avoid problems impatiently, ignore her unease, and punish her with coldness. Am I wronging you by saying this?"

Phoebe’s eyes filled with tears, her brother as always her strongest support.

Eleanor felt as if her heart was being cut apart. However much good Cillian gave Phoebe, he gave just as much bad to her.

The sense of safety Damian never gave, Cillian made sure to take it all out on Eleanor for Phoebe’s sake.

In that moment, she and Damian were of one mind, his voice icy as he questioned, "So as her brother, you get to torment others for her sake? I’m a man, my reputation’s already been ruined once. And what about Eleanor? She’s your sister too. Don’t you have a shred of sibling affection for her?"

"No." Cillian’s face was sharp and brooding. "We’re not blood."

No.

We’re not blood.

Eleanor clenched her fists. Cillian had brought it up before, but this was the first time he’d made his stance public in front of outsiders.

So ruthless and decisive, without a hint of hesitation, it made her heart tremble.

"Sorry, I was out of line." She dragged Elaine upstairs.

Behind her was a silence so thick you could hear a pin drop. She felt all eyes boring into her back, watching her flee in disgrace.

"Cillian’s got something wrong with him." Elaine locked the door, pounding the wall in anger. "And your dad and mom, too. We came all the way upstairs and not a single person spoke up for you."

The little warmth that Mr. Grant’s words had brought to the icy pit in Eleanor’s chest froze over even deeper in just a few minutes.

She curled up on the sofa, forcing herself to stay strong. "What’s the situation with Mr. Bolton exactly?"

At the mention of Mr. Bolton, Elaine paused, her face clouded with bafflement. "Cillian invested two hundred million in Mr. Bolton’s traditional medicine project. One hundred million of that was because of you."

Eleanor was confused. "Because of me?"

"To spare you the pain of acupuncture." Elaine watched her face. "He’s determined to cure you, but he’s afraid it’ll hurt you. Maybe...does he still care about you?"

"Do you think that’s possible?" Eleanor’s voice was cold. "Didn’t you see him just now? Did he look like he cared even the slightest?"

Care? That ruthless, cold expression could’ve been aimed at an enemy and still made sense.

Elaine was at a loss. "Then why the hundred million for you?"

"What do you think?"

"He... He..." Elaine’s mind couldn’t come up with a single instance of Cillian treating Eleanor well, to justify him spending a hundred million on her. "He must be out of his mind."

"It’s probably for the marriage alliance." Eleanor felt weak inside. "He keeps bringing up my marriage lately. Only if I get better will the Grant Family benefit. As for sparing me acupuncture—slap me, then give me a piece of candy. Sweet-talk me, so I’ll work willingly for the Grants."

At the same time, Eleanor knew that with a hundred million in real money thrown in, their chances with Mr. Bolton grew slim.

The room fell silent, making Eleanor’s powerlessness all the more apparent.

Elaine fell quiet, listening for a while. The air in the Grant house felt like it was full of knives and frost, enemies everywhere. Eleanor was a caged animal, while she could only watch helplessly, unable to do a thing.

"So what are you going to do?"

"Take it one step at a time." Eleanor leaned her head against the back of the sofa, eyes fixed on the ceiling. "Tonight I’ll try to find out when Mr. Bolton will be in Soldane. If it’s really tomorrow, I have to find a way to see him before the exam."

No matter how slim the hope, Eleanor still wanted to fight for it.

Elaine felt that even a meeting was a long shot, but having hope was better than giving up.

She still had to prepare for faking Eleanor’s blood test tomorrow, so she didn’t stay long.

Going downstairs to leave, she saw the living room was already lively and cozy, with Phoebe sweetly inviting Mr. Sinclair to stay for dinner.

Damian agreed before anyone else.

The eagerness in his face made Elaine wonder if she’d misjudged him earlier.

Soon after she left, a shadow suddenly appeared in the third-floor corridor, quietly stopping at Eleanor’s door to knock.

Eleanor opened the door just a crack. The shadow stepped forward, forcing his way in.

The door shut at once.

Damian’s tall figure pressed against the door—straight-backed, handsome, and yet full of heartbroken anger. His breath was ragged, eyes fixed on Eleanor, burning with lava—about to erupt.

"Four years ago, it wasn’t what it seemed, was it?"

"It was Cillian who forced you to break off the engagement. You still have feelings for me, don’t you?" 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

Eleanor was stunned to see that it was him, completely thrown off guard.

"That day we were going to elope... that phone call—"

"It’s all in the past." Eleanor cut him off.

Back then, the two families found Damian drunk and assaulting Phoebe, their clothes ripped all over the floor, Phoebe’s virginal blood staining the bed. He couldn’t defend himself no matter what.

Eleanor was the only one who believed he hadn’t touched Phoebe, but while the two of them searched for evidence, Cillian went behind her back and ended her engagement.

By the time Eleanor had managed to get information out of the hotel staff, the Grant and Sinclair families had already arranged for Damian and Phoebe to be engaged.

Damian fought against it, but Cillian joined forces with Damian’s parents to suppress him. Damian had no choice but to plan an elopement with Eleanor.

The day they were to run away, a typhoon hit the city—heavy winds and rain brought down trees and power lines, the streets flooded knee-deep. There was no way to leave, so Damian had to postpone by a day.

Eleanor answered his call, then stayed in her room packing.

Cillian burst in, frosty all over.

After the typhoon passed, Eleanor was on the edge of collapse.

Cillian locked her in his arms, made her call Damian, and say she couldn’t bear to leave her family, couldn’t stand the hardship, and wasn’t willing to run off with Damian anymore.

And then wish him and Phoebe a happy engagement.

"The past is over. It’s all behind me." Eleanor lowered her eyes, trying to steady her emotions. "I don’t have any feelings for you now."

"Is it that you don’t, or that you don’t dare to?" Damian stared down at her. "You’re pregnant with Cillian’s child."

He sounded so certain.

Eleanor’s scalp tingled with shock, and she firmly denied it. "I’m not."

"The Nimbus Tea House on Rendar Road—I was next door."

At the same time, downstairs—

"Where’s Damian?" Phoebe asked.

"Seems like he went upstairs," one of the maids replied uncertainly. "I saw Young Master Sinclair heading for the stairs."

Phoebe was alarmed. Damian had come to the Grant house many times and was always distant and polite. He’d never once gone upstairs on his own.

She glanced up to the second floor—empty and silent.

Up another floor, a sliver of light seeped out from Eleanor’s door.

That bitch, never content.

She dashed up the stairs.