Wyatt Morgan was in so much pain he couldn't speak, only able to convulse and gasp for breath on the ground, his mind in disarray.
Why... was Tristan Sterling so certain it was her doing?
The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. In his haze, he could only hear Tristan Sterling's cold voice giving orders.
"Bring them in!"
No sooner had the words been spoken than the dragging sounds and faint sobs came from the door.
A few bodyguards immediately escorted a woman in from outside.
That woman's hair was disheveled and covered most of her face.
It was Elara Joyce.
"Let go of me! Don't touch me! Are you crazy?!"
Elara Joyce twisted her body violently, her arms tightly pinned behind her back by two black-clad bodyguards.
One of her high-heeled shoes had already fallen off, her disheveled hair clinging to her cheek, her makeup smudged from the emotion.
"I was invited by the Sterling Family as a guest! On what grounds are you arresting me? Who gave you the right?"
