Peter must have known he couldn't stop York, so he went to the Ferguson family for help.
"Your grandfather is here, York! If you don't want to face the family's punishment, you'd better let me go now!"
Claudia struggled desperately, trying to buy herself some time.
But all she heard was York's icy command. "Close the airport gates. Do not let anyone in!"
—
When Claudia woke up again, it was nearly noon.
Looking at the bedroom surroundings, her mind went completely blank.
This was the private island where she and York had spent their honeymoon.
Claudia swung her bare feet off the bed and was hit with a wave of dizziness. She quickly lay back down to recover.
Closing her eyes, she saw flashes of being carried onto the helicopter by York.
She had been so angry, anxious, and suffering from low blood sugar that she had fainted.
She vaguely remembered York holding her and crying as she passed out.
Even then, he hadn't let her off the helicopter.
Claudia patted her pockets, only to remember her phone was with York.
She had planned to feign compliance to convince him to take her back, but she had ended up here anyway.
Hearing the bedroom door open, Claudia slowly opened her eyes.
York was wearing black trousers and a white shirt, the hem untucked and the top three buttons undone.
His eyes were shadowed with deep fatigue, and he looked gaunt and sickly.
He sat on the edge of the bed, his movements light and careful.
He propped one hand on the bed beside her and gently smoothed her long hair. "Are you feeling unwell anywhere?"
Claudia pushed his hand away and struggled to sit up.



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