After Ten Years of Revenge, He Built Time Machine Bring Me Back Chapter 14

After Ten Years of Revenge, He Built Time Machine Bring Me Back Chapter 14

Inside Silas’s private estate, a sprawling sun-dappled garden shaded by large patio umbrellas.

Elowen sat beneath the canopy in loose, soft loungewear.

Silas stood off to the side, gazing at her thin, delicate silhouette for a long stretch of time, lost in thought.

Eventually he walked over carrying a ceramic mug filled with liquid medication, gently prying the book out of

her hands.

“Time for your treatment, Elowen.”

Elowen turned her head sharply away from him, revulsion plain on her face.

It had been a full month since Silas had knocked her unconscious and dragged her back to his mansion

against her will.

Every single day brought endless rounds of chemotherapy, targeted infusions, acupuncture sessions, and endless doses of harsh medicine.

All of her hair had fallen out from the aggressive treatments, so she wore a soft canvas bucket hat to cover her bare scalp at all times.

“Stop copying the way Amos talks to me,” she snapped coldly.

Silas’s grip on the mug wavered, yet he forced a faint, pained smile to stay on his face.

“I won’t repeat his words anymore. Drink this-you can’t avoid it forever.”

She couldn’t escape him, no matter how hard she tried.

Back when she’d clung to hope and fought to survive, he’d hounded her with endless torment. Now all she craved was quiet peace to pass away, and he forced painful, futile medical procedures on her nonstop.

Elowen snatched the mug from his grasp, chugging every bitter drop of medicine in one go. Tears mixed with the spilled liquid dripping down her jaw.

Silas pulled a soft linen cloth out of his pocket to wipe her chin gently.

“Once you cure me, what torture have you planned next?” Elowen asked flatly.

“Blow out my other eardrum? Force me to perform on stage again? Or make me run errands for you and Celia like before?”

“You wouldn’t go to all this trouble saving me unless you still harbor hatred for your so-called enemy.”

Silas didn’t snap or grow angry at her bitter accusations.

“You are guilty in my eyes, so you will not die. You’ll stay alive to atone until I deem your debt repaid.”

“If you dare to slip away and die, I’ll dig up your father and Lila’s graves and grind their remains to dust. I’ll do

the same to Amos.”

He leaned in close, cold breath brushing her ear.

A sharp crack echoed as Elowen’s palm collided hard against his cheek, leaving a bright red handprint

blooming across his skin.

“You’re a monster, Silas.”

A strange, faint warmth bloomed inside Silas at the slap-it was the first genuine emotion she’d shown

toward him in a full month, beyond hollow apathy and icy contempt.

This was the Elowen he remembered, alive with fire and rage.

He smiled through the stinging mark on his cheek, picking up a bowl of nutrient-rich broth and holding it out

to her.

“Hit me all you want. Eat something afterward.”

“Suppose the person I cared about most in this world was you,” Elowen said suddenly. “Would you destroy yourself?”

Silas flinched, instinctively pulling his scarred wrists back out of her line of sight. The long, deep surgical stitches from his suicide attempt still stood out vivid against his skin.

Elowen’s fingers shot out in an instant, yanking the gauze bandage free to expose every old and fresh self-inflicted slash covering his forearms. A bitter laugh bubbled up out of her throat.

Celia told the truth after all-every time you tortured me, you carved a new wound into your own arms. Are you still hung up on the woman who supposedly crippled your mother? How do you face Mrs. Voss knowing

this?”

The half-healed gashes split open under her grip, fresh blood welling over the old scar tissue. Silas winced in

sharp pain, yet Elowen’s expression remained completely unmoved.

She pulled her hands away, staring him down with icy disdain.

“Don’t fool yourself thinking I hold any affection for you. You’re not worth a single strand of Amos’s hair.”

Silas clutched his bleeding wrists tight, swallowing all his hurt behind a stiff, composed mask.

“Rest for a while. I’ll return later.”

“I will find a way to keep you alive.”

He turned and left the garden.

The ceramic broth bowl slipped out of Elowen’s grasp, smashing against the stone patio floor as she watched his retreating back.

What purpose was there left for her to keep breathing?

Her father was dead, Lila was dead, and she’d spent ten long years branded a criminal for a crime she never

committed.

The only reason she’d clung to life for these three extra years was gratitude toward Amos for saving her.

A faint, soft smile tugged her lips at the thought of him.

Amos was the only gentle soul she’d ever known.

For three years they’d shared that tiny slum apartment together. She’d taught him to read and write, showed him how to wash and dress himself properly. In that lawless, dangerous district, he’d shielded her from every

threat without hesitation.

All Elowen desired for her final days was to spend them beside Amos.