THE CASTAWAY HEIR: POWER UNSEEN

CHAPTER 5

Brandon managed to get Jessica Marion to the nearest hotel so he could help her.

As he sat at the edge of the bed, he pressed a sterilized blade gently against Jessica’s wrist, letting out controlled drops of blood and guiding the poisoned heat out of her system.

His movements were precise and steady.

This was not his first time administering such treatment.

The setup was simple, yet something about it felt intimate.

His hand rested over hers as her breathing steadied, rising and falling in quiet rhythm.

The faint color returning to her cheeks told him that the toxin was fading.

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When Jessica woke, her head pounded, and her body felt oddly weak.

She stirred, confused by the unfamiliar ceiling above her. She could tell that she was in a hotel.

Slowly, she sat up and froze.

Red traces streaked across her arms and collarbone, faint but visible against her pale skin.

Horror jolted through her chest.

What… what happened to me?

Her mind flashed back to the leering faces of those three men, their laughter, their blades, and then—darkness.

Her breath caught.

No… it can’t be. I… I was violated!

Her hands shook as she pulled the sheets tightly around her.

The sound of the door handle turning made her look up.

Brandon entered carrying a glass of water in one hand. He hadn’t expected her to be awake yet.

Before he could speak, Jessica’s eyes filled with fury.

Without even registering his face properly, she grabbed the nearest object which was a vase from the nightstand—and hurled it at him with all her strength.

“YOU BASTARD! RAPIST!” she screamed.

The vase shattered against the wall behind him.

Brandon had already ducked, making glass rain down onto the carpet.

He straightened slowly, sighing.

“So that’s the first thing you think of me?”

Jessica’s chest heaved and her face still blotched with anger and fear.

Brandon set the glass of water on the table, rubbing his forehead.

“Before you lose your mind any further, why don’t you carefully recall what actually happened last night?”

Her eyes widened as she stared at him properly for the first time.

She suddenly remembered that Brandon was the man at the cemetery who had kicked the dagger away and scared off her attackers.

“You…” she stammered, her face flushing with confusion.

“You were the one who… who saved me.”

“Yes.”

His tone was clipped.

Jessica froze and her anger faded into sudden embarrassment.

“Then… I—oh God.” Her voice cracked with her hand pressing to her mouth.

“I’m sorry. I thought—”

She stopped abruptly, remembering the heat flooding her veins and the way her consciousness had slipped away.

She had been drugged!

And yet—her clothes were intact, and her body… untouched. Her heart sank with dread.

If he hadn’t done anything, then why was she covered in strange red marks?

Her lips trembled as she whispered, “Did you… did you… do something to me?”

Brandon let out a deep sigh, sounding tired and annoyed, then he turned to the door and called out, “Come in.”

The door opened, and Joe his assistant, stepped inside, followed by a middle-aged doctor carrying a leather medical case.

Both men greeted Brandon respectfully before turning their attention to Jessica.

Jessica stiffened, utterly bewildered.

The doctor approached her bedside with a polite bow. “Miss, may I?”

Hesitant, she extended her wrist. The doctor checked her pulse with practiced fingers.

A few moments later, he turned to Brandon with a nod.

“Sir, your method was effective. The toxins have already been neutralized. With the bloodletting you performed, her condition is stable. She only needs to keep the wounds clean and avoid strain for a week.”

Jessica’s head spun. Bloodletting?

Brandon accepted the doctor’s words with a curt nod.

He picked up his whiskey glass from the table and took a slow sip before speaking.

“You see? Nothing happened to you.” His gaze was steady and unwavering.

“You were drugged. After you fainted, I used bloodletting. Those red marks you’re so horrified by are simply the traces it left behind.”

Jessica’s lips parted in shock and her cheeks burned in crimson that she wanted to melt into the floor.

“I—I’m sorry,” she stammered, lowering her eyes.

“I accused you unjustly. I… I didn’t know.”

Brandon waved her apology away with a calm gesture.

“It doesn’t matter. You were frightened. Anyone in your position would have panicked.”

His voice was even.

“Where’s your home?” Brandon asked, his tone more businesslike now. “I’ll have someone escort you back.”

Her throat tightened as she lowered her head, twisting the sheet in her hands.

“I… I don’t have one.”