Unveiled: The Survivor's Triumph
Chapter 60 Just a Tool for Release

I stumbled to the staircase and froze not because of Jason's question, but because I saw a flicker of firelight in the dim stairwell.

Even drunk, my instincts were sharp. I knew it was Ethan.

A few seconds later, the firelight was snuffed out by a leather shoe. Ethan walked toward us.

Instinctively, I stepped back. Jason kept a firm grip on me, worried I'd fall. "She's drunk," he said.

Ethan replied, "Jason, you've had a long day since getting off the plane. You should go home and rest."

As he spoke, Ethan tried to take me from Jason's arms. Fueled by the alcohol, I pushed him away but couldn't stand on my own. Jason caught me just in time and said, "I'll take her home. Whatever misunderstanding there is, you can explain it when she's sober."

"It's not appropriate for you to take her home," Ethan insisted, reaching for me again.

"Get away from me," I shouted, and he looked shocked.

I broke free from Jason, stumbled a few steps into the stairwell, and leaned against the wall. "Both of you leave. I'll go back on my own."

I thought I could manage, but before I even stepped on the stairs, I nearly fell. An arm caught me just in time and lifted me up without a word.

"Let go of me," I struggled.

Ethan held me tighter, speaking patiently, "If you don't want to see me, I'll take you home and then leave."

He carried me upstairs, found my keys in my bag, opened the door, and laid me on the bed. I wasn't so drunk that I was unconscious; I just didn't want to see him.

He sat by the bed for a while before heading out. I thought he had left, but he returned with a glass of water. "Drink some water before you sleep."

He tried to help me drink, but I kept my mouth shut. He seemed a bit frustrated, and his breath grew heavier near my ear.

When I refused to drink, he downed the water himself, then suddenly pressed me down and kissed me, transferring the water into my mouth. I choked from resisting and coughed several times.

He helped me sit up and patiently patted my back. Once I caught my breath, I pushed him away again. "Didn't you say you'd leave after bringing me back? Why are you still here?"

Ethan suddenly gripped my shoulders, looking at me angrily. "I told you not to get drunk in front of strangers. Why did you do it?"

He had overheard my conversation with Jason. I laughed, though I wasn't sure if it was a bitter or mocking laugh. "Strangers? Jason? To me, you're also a stranger. I married you without really knowing you. I was so foolish." Ethan's Adam's apple bobbed. "Do you regret it?"

I nodded, holding back tears. "Yes, I regret it. I don't have to get married. Why did I marry a man who doesn't care about me and only wants to use me?"

I turned my head, trying to suppress the tears with reason.

Ethan leaned in, cupping my face, trying to kiss me again.

I turned away, but in my drunken state, I couldn't avoid him. He pressed on, kissing me repeatedly, trying to soften my heart.

I was breathless from his kisses. When he finally gave me a moment to breathe, I sneered. "Yeah, you don't just want to use me. You want to have sex with me. I'm just your tool for satisfying your physical needs." Ethan stiffened at my words, gripping my chin and glaring at me. "Emily, do you have to be like this?"

I shook off his hand and stared at him. "Ethan, I don't want to see you right now. If you don't want me to hate you more, leave. I have a headache. I don't want to talk; I just want to sleep."

Ethan was silent. After a moment, the weight on me disappeared. I heard him leave the room, then return, placing a cup on the table. "I'm leaving, Emily. When you wake up, we need to talk."

He stood there for a while, and when I didn't respond, he finally left, closing the door behind him.

When the room was finally empty, I opened my eyes. I was sober now, but I wished I could stay lost in the alcohol. 'Talk about what? Divorce? Maybe he should apologize for using me.' The next morning, I woke up early. Despite the headache, I forced myself to get up. I checked my phone and saw a message from Seagull: [Emily, may your future tears be tears of joy.] But I didn't know if I would ever have the chance to cry tears of joy again.

The water Ethan had poured for me was still by the bed. I drank it, skipping breakfast and heading to work without eating anything.

As soon as I arrived at the hospital, Ethan called. I put my phone on silent and tossed it aside, ignoring it. I took a few deep breaths, trying to pull myself together.

The more I got hurt in relationships, the more I needed to be financially independent. I could live comfortably even without a man.

Soon, the emergency hotline rang, and I answered the call. "Hello, Grace Hospital Emergency Care Center."

The man's voice on the other end was frantic. "Help!"

My heart immediately tightened. I tried to calm him down. "Take your time. What's the situation?"

He said, "A few of my friends have already been killed. I'm hiding right now. I'm so scared."

"What?" I stood up abruptly. "Are your friends okay? Tell me your location immediately. We'll send an ambulance and notify the police."

The man, trembling, said, "I'm behind Grace Hospital. I'm so scared. Please hurry."

I froze, then the man burst into laughter. I recognized the voice-it was Oliver.

Realizing I had been pranked, I was furious. "Go to hell," I snapped and hung up.

Lisa Thomas, who was next to me, stared at me in shock, then looked past me.

Seeing her strange expression, I turned around to find the HR director standing behind me with a stern face. "Emily, your attitude is a serious problem. This is an emergency hotline. People call for help, and you tell them to go to hell? How do you think the patient's family would feel? Your service affects the reputation of Grace Hospital."

I said, "Director, it's not like that. He..."

"No need to explain. Write a report before the end of the day. I need to know your attitude," the director said sternly before walking away.

I slumped back into my chair, leaning my head back in frustration.

"Emily, you were wrong in this case," Lisa, usually kind to me, couldn't help but chide me.

I looked at her helplessly. "Lisa, it was a prank call."

Lisa chuckled. "Of course, there are prank calls. I've been an ER nurse for years and have seen all kinds of people. But you can't respond like that. It's our professional ethics."

I covered my forehead with the back of my hand, taking a moment to calm down. "I understand. I'll write the report."

A little while later, the phone rang again. I composed myself and answered, "Hello, Grace Hospital."

"It's me." The familiar voice threw me off, and I immediately hung up.

Lisa, sitting nearby, frowned. "Emily, are you feeling unwell? You seem off."

Before I could respond, the phone rang again. I hesitated to answer, but Lisa didn't seem inclined to, so I picked it up.

"Emily," Ethan's urgent voice came through, as if afraid I'd hang up.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "This is an emergency line, not a personal phone. Can you stop wasting public resources?"

Ethan said, "Emily, I want to talk to you."

"We have nothing to talk about," I replied.

Lisa, probably sensing something from my tone, smiled and turned to her tasks.

He said, "Emily, if you hang up, I'll keep calling until you agree to talk."

I couldn't believe Ethan could be so persistent.

"Come home, and we'll talk, okay?" Ethan's tone was almost pleading.

I once thought that place was my home. I knew I couldn't keep avoiding this, so I finally agreed.

After work, as soon as I stepped out of the hospital, someone called my name. I turned to see Dennis. "Ms. Russell, Mr. Windsor is busy. He asked me to pick you up."

I thought, 'He's busy, yet he had time to keep calling the hotline and arrange a talk?'

I got into the car, and Ethan sent a message: [Honey, I have an important meeting. I might be late, but wait for me at home. I'll come back no matter how late.]

From this message, I could sense his sincerity. But I didn't know what he would explain and whether he would tell the truth or continue lying.

Back at the villa, I sat on the couch waiting, not in the mood to cook or turn on the lights.

About an hour later, it was dark, and he still hadn't returned. Just as I was getting restless, the doorbell rang.

'Did he forget his keys?' I walked over and opened the door, only to be stunned.

Victor was standing outside.