Chapter 5 Nicholas Faints

"Wait!" Derek snarled through gritted teeth, ignoring the pain as he lunged after Diana.

He grabbed her wrist in a death grip. "Diana, you can't give up on yourself like this. Come with me now—I'll take care of you, I promise."

Time was running out. If Diana wouldn't listen to reason, he'd have to take her by force. Once Nicholas discovered their meeting, both he and his men were as good as dead.

On the second floor, Nicholas froze mid-step, his eyes burning with murderous intent as they fixed on Derek's hand wrapped around Diana's wrist. 

'How revolting. I should hack it off and feed it to the dogs,' he thought.

Sensing the murderous aura rolling off his employer, Bruce stepped in swiftly. “Sir, perhaps we should let Ms. Windsor handle this herself. They’re not going anywhere.”

Derek’s men had already been subdued—escape was impossible. Yet if Nicholas acted now, blood would surely spill.

Everyone knew Diana was head-over-heels for Derek. Nicholas had been holding back precisely because of her feelings.

Derek’s men had already been subdued—escape was impossible. Yet if Nicholas acted now, blood would surely spill.

Nicholas's jaw clenched, fury blazing in his eyes. Finally, he closed them briefly and forced himself to remain still.

He knew Diana too well. When it came to Derek, she'd always choose his side without question. 

Today’s protection had likely sprung from their intimate moment yesterday—or worse, it was merely an excuse she had fabricated to shield Derek from the consequences, exactly as he had suggested.

Diana stared into Derek’s earnest yet repulsive eyes and let out a cold, mirthless laugh. “Take care of me? Then return everything you’ve stolen from my family. That money could sustain me for several lifetimes.”

"Diana! Is money all you ever think about?" Derek's grip tightened as he glared at her in fury.

What the hell has gotten into this foolish woman today? Why won’t she just obey? First the contract complications, now demanding the return of things she willingly gave me. Those items were only “borrowed”—they became mine by right. Why should I hand them back?

Yet remembering his precarious standing with the Spencer family, Derek’s eyes finally flickered with something resembling genuine feeling. “Diana, I’ll return what I borrowed. I promise.”

"Then return them now." Diana was done wasting words. She pried his fingers off one by one. "Three days. If you don't return them, I'll have my fiancé personally collect them from your house."

She turned away with a flourish, rubbing her wrist in disgust. 

Derek claimed to love her, yet he was either sleeping with her friends or hurting her. 

'I hope someone loves him exactly the same way someday,' she cursed inwardly.

“Diana, you’ll regret this! Mark my words—you will!” Derek’s helpless fury echoed behind her, but with time running out, he had no choice but to flee.

If Nicholas actually caught him meeting with Diana, that would truly be the end.

Diana rolled her eyes as she walked away. 

Derek and Mandy deserve each other—a match made in hell.

When Diana returned to the villa, every servant instinctively lowered their heads. Remembering her current appearance, a wave of embarrassment washed over her.

As a child, everyone had called her a delicate little angel. Throughout her school years, she had been the undisputed campus beauty. Yet she had foolishly believed Mandy’s lies—that Derek preferred cosplay characters, especially the dark, gothic kind. Day after day, she had transformed herself into something neither human nor ghost.

Strangers couldn't recognize her, and even close friends needed time to figure out who she was.

"Um..." She turned to a maid scrubbing the floor nearby.

The woman looked like she'd seen a ghost and scurried away, head down.

Diana caught her reflection in the polished marble and recoiled in shock. Even real ghosts would flee from me, she thought wryly.

She tried wiping her face with her sleeve, but whatever makeup Mandy had used refused to budge—if anything, it only made her appear more grotesque.

As Diana debated between a hot shower or calling professional makeup removal services, Nicholas descended from the second floor.

“Diana, let’s go. I’ll take you to dinner.” He spoke as if the dramatic war paint on her face were invisible, his voice warm with quiet indulgence.

Looking at the tall, handsome man before her, Diana's mood plummeted. 

"I don't want to go."

Taking her out looking like this would land her on trending topics within minutes: #Mr. Spencer Dines with Mystery Ghoul

The internet would have a field day with at least a hundred variations. Of course, Nicholas would ruthlessly suppress any negative coverage—any platform that dared mock her would face his wrath.

Remembering how good Nicholas had always been to her, Diana turned back. “How about having them bring dinner to the room? We can eat together.”

'Better not traumatize the staff any further. I'd like to keep the good cooks around,' she thought.

"Perfect." Nicholas gazed at her tenderly, then shot the nearby servant a cold glance. 

The woman nodded in instant understanding. “Yes, sir. I’ll prepare Ms. Windsor’s favorites right away.”

Ever since learning Diana would be staying, the entire household had remained on high alert, stocking every preferred ingredient so any request could be fulfilled within thirty minutes.

Nicholas’s standards allowed no failure, but his bonuses for success were equally generous.

Today, with Diana being unusually cooperative, the staff were especially eager to please—and earn a little extra.

Diana reached her bedroom door just as Nicholas caught up. He suddenly pressed his palm against the handle with a solid thud.

"What's wrong?" Diana looked at him with concern.

"Nothing." Nicholas pushed the door open, and Diana followed him inside.

The moment she closed the door behind them, Nicholas collapsed straight down.

"Nicholas!"

Diana lunged forward but only managed to catch his jacket. The million-dollar fabric tore in her grip as he crumpled to the floor.

Diana no longer cared about her monstrous appearance. She flung the door open and shouted, “Someone help! Nicholas has collapsed! Get him to a hospital!”

Everyone stared at her in horror before springing into action. Some called for medical assistance, others prepared ice packs, while a few rushed upstairs to carry Nicholas to bed and remove his shoes...

Once the chaos settled, Diana remained frozen in place, struggling to comprehend what had just happened.

The butler, Mike Scott, entered and gently closed the door behind him. “Don’t worry, Ms. Windsor. Our family physician will arrive in ten minutes.”

"Why not take him to the hospital?" Diana's voice was tight with anxiety. "He just collapsed out of nowhere—he needs a full medical examination."

Scott studied the girl whose features were hidden beneath the heavy makeup, yet he could hear the raw worry in her tone.

He sighed heavily. "Ms. Windsor, since you clearly care about Mr. Spencer, I'll be direct."

He tapped his temple. “Mr. Spencer has a brain tumor. He faints from time to time.”