Chapter 113:
Elyse couldn't discern how long she'd been unconscious. When she awoke, she found herself in a dark room—likely a basement, given the absence of natural light. Suppressing rising panic and helplessness, she moved her limbs to alleviate stiffness, thankfully finding herself unrestrained. She kicked around, hoping to find something useful, but her efforts were futile; she was alone.
Her mind raced as she pondered Joanna's motives. All she hoped for was food and water. Her throat felt parched in the pitch-blackness, and she lost track of time, eventually drifting off to sleep. She was abruptly awakened by approaching footsteps.
Joanna entered, carrying a glass of sugar water. Seeing Elyse listless on the floor, she snorted disdainfully and kicked her. "Still alive?" Joanna asked coldly.
Struggling, Elyse opened her eyes and met Joanna's mocking gaze. "As you can see," she responded, her voice hoarse as she licked her dry lips.
Joanna scrutinized Elyse's weakened face and sneered, "A mere 24 hours without food, and you're this feeble? Gee. Should I be preparing a coffin for you in two days?"
Elyse, having fasted for a charity banquet, had barely eaten a small piece of cake that evening. She had no desire to engage Joanna; preserving her strength was paramount.
Bored by Elyse's silence, Joanna forcefully pulled her up and held the sugar water to her lips. Revitalized by the liquid, Elyse drank it eagerly, not missing a drop. Seeing Elyse's desperation, Joanna taunted, "I have a secret to share. I'll be Jayden's woman tonight. We'll have shared the same man. Aren't you thrilled?"
Elyse stiffened but remained silent, her gaze frosty as Joanna forcefully grabbed her chin. "This is your fault. If you'd complied, I wouldn't have had to return to the Fosters. Now, you'll experience their cruelty firsthand," Joanna accused.
Elyse glared. "Your family is depraved. How is their behavior my concern? Two women for one man? It's laughable that your family condones such things," she retorted.
Joanna laughed, her laughter dissolving into tears. "That's why you're lucky. You weren't born a Foster. You're the luckiest of all," she said, her voice tinged with bitterness.
Beneath the laughter, however, Joanna seethed. Born into the Foster family, she loathed her destiny and, in a fit of fury, repeatedly slapped Elyse. As Elyse collapsed, Joanna felt a rush of satisfaction, believing she'd released her pent-up anger.
"Whenever the Foster patriarch gets angry, he whips others. I never understood why until now. Venting on others is quite thrilling," Joanna remarked, her tone dark with resentment.
Gritting her teeth, Elyse responded bitterly, "Joanna Foster, I'll remember this."
"So what? You're imprisoned. No one will know if I kill you," Joanna retorted coldly.
She stood, straightened her clothes, and subdued her lethal impulses. With a smirk, she said, "I'm off to see Jayden now. He's a cripple. How does he manage? Should I take the lead and sit on his lap?" She taunted Elyse. "Aren't you his wife? Tell me, how did you manage? I'll learn from you and ensure he's satisfied."
Elyse, clenching her jaw, snapped back, "Jayden won't accept you."
"Think it's up to you? I have countless ways to make him accept me," Joanna boasted, her focus solely on her own agenda. All she needed was for Jayden to marry her to gain her freedom—a freedom she craved so deeply that she believed nothing could stop her. Elyse suspected Joanna would drug Jayden, given her previous statements.
"You desperate bitch! Jayden will never accept you! Never!" Elyse shouted.
Joanna merely laughed. She harbored no affection for the disabled man, nor desired his acceptance. Her only goal was to complete her mission.