His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 146: Ungrateful? Or Alive?

Chapter 146- Ungrateful? Or Alive?

Beatrice POV

I felt something pull me back.

Warmth... light... pain in my throat.

Was I dead?

My eyelids fluttered open slowly. Bright light hit my eyes, and I winced.

It was too bright. I tried to open them wider, but the light was burning through. I groaned and turned my head slightly to the side.

Everything felt heavy. My body... my heart... my head.

I'm alive? My fingers moved to my neck. I touched it gently.

It was sore. Bruised. But I could still breathe.

I let out a shaky sigh of relief.

"I thought I died..." I whispered to myself.

I tried to sit up—tried to push myself up with my elbows—but the second I moved, my body collapsed back to the chair. My chest hurt, my limbs felt weak, and my head spun.

"You shouldn't stress yourself," a voice said from the side.

I turned my head and saw him.

Declan.

The devil himself. Sitting calmly in the corner like he didn't just try to kill me with his bare hands.

My blood boiled.

I turned to him sharply, ignoring the pain.

"You bloody bastard," I spat out.

His eyes narrowed.

"Shut the fuck up and stay away from me," I snapped at him.

Declan stood and walked closer like he had the right.

"You don't have to cuss at me," he said coldly. "I didn't kill you, did I? A little thank you would go a long way."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"A thank you? You tried to kill me!"

He ignored me.

"You should be grateful, Beatrice. That I chose to let you live."

His voice was filled with mockery.

"You had the audacity to call me a bastard," he continued, his tone sharper now. "You're the one that got me angry. I came to apologize—and you had the nerve to tell me Tyler was kidnapped?"

He stepped closer, and I could feel his rage.

"You little bitch. Is that what you thought was the right time to break the news? Shouldn't you be down on your knees, thanking me for not snapping your neck completely?"

He scoffed and waved his hand at me like I was filth.

"You ungrateful peasant. You're a disgrace to everyone. Always have been."

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

I didn't want to cry again. But it was hard not to when someone looked at you like you were nothing.

Then he said it.

"If you ever call me a bastard again, I'll make you do something you'll regret for the rest of your life. Something that'll make you hate yourself."

He turned away from me like I wasn't worth his time.

A word is enough for the wise, he had said.

Wise?

Wasn't he supposed to be the one begging?

Wasn't he supposed to hold my hand, say sorry, say he'd never lay a hand on me again?

But here he was—abusing me all over again.

Not just physically. Emotionally. Mentally. Everything.

He always acts like this.

Why? What did I ever do to deserve this?

Tears stung the corners of my eyes.

My voice came out low, shaking.

"Weren't you supposed to apologize?"

He turned to me.

"Why are you being a pussy to me?" I asked, eyes already red.

"How about I died while you were choking me? Huh? What would you have done then?"

He rolled his eyes.

"'How about you died?'" he said mockingly. "That's the keyword. How about?"

He stepped even closer.

"And now it's so damn obvious you didn't die. So stop whining. Stop acting like a bloody bitch. You're alive, aren't you? Safe and sound."

I shook my head. My whole body was trembling now, not from weakness—but rage.

I pushed myself up again, slowly. This time, I forced myself to stand—even if it felt like my knees were going to give out.

I stood tall, wobbling but still up.

I stared at him with every ounce of hatred I had in me. It ran deep in my bones.

"Stay away from me, Declan," I said, my voice thick with venom.

"Stay the fuck away from me."

His face shifted, but I didn't stop.

"And as for Tyler—go find him yourself."

My chest rose and fell fast.

"I'll find my son my own damn way. The first person to find him? That's their cup of tea."

I moved to the door and pointed, still shaking, still burning with fury.

"But I swear to God—I don't want to ever see your face in this motherfucking house again."

My voice cracked.

"Now get the fuck out of my house... you bloody beast."

He stood there... smiling.

"Wow," he said with a low laugh. "You've got some nerves, Beatrice."

I didn't answer him. I didn't need to.

I turned my back on him and walked toward the door.

I reached for the knob, flung the door open, and pointed with a shaking hand.

"Now get the fuck out of my room," I said, voice rising. "Get the hell out of my house, Declan!"

He laughed.

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Loud, deep, and cruel.

He stood slowly, dusted his shirt like he wasn't the devil in flesh, and started walking to the door.

But just as he reached it, he stopped. His hand froze on the knob.

He turned his head and looked at me. His eyes had changed.

That calm was gone.

"So you really fucking think I'm going anywhere?" he asked, voice low and sharp. "You think I'd leave without my son?"

I stared at him, but didn't speak.

"I'm not going anywhere until I find Tyler. And you're going to help me find him—whether you like it or not."

I clenched my fists.

"And if I don't?" I hissed. "What are you going to do? Choke me again?!"

I stepped toward him, angry tears already burning in my eyes.

"Choke me the fuck again? DO IT!"

My voice cracked as I screamed.

"I DARE YOU, DECLAN! DO IT! DO YOUR WORST! YOU MOTHERFUCKER—DO IT!"