Chapter 1968: A More Difficult Problem
Clint abruptly grabbed Joyce's wrist. In that moment, Joyce realized how strong his grip actually was.
"Where are you taking me?" Joyce was being pulled along by Grayson, her body heavy, her belly swollen, making her walk slowly.
Clint continued to pull her into the elevator, heading straight to the rooftop helipad.
As they stepped out of the elevator, Joyce heard the roar of an engine. Looking up, she saw a small helicopter hovering in the sky,
gracefully landing on the rooftop. She recognized this model, a cutting-edge technology from Rohomes called the "Nightingale." It
was known for its small size, speed, and ability to evade radar detection. It was not something an ordinary person could possess.
With even the helicopter prepared, it was clear that Grayson had a well-planned escape route. Perhaps when she had discovered
Grayson at her home, he had already ordered the helicopter to be ready for her evacuation at any moment.
Clint held Joyce firmly, his proud and icy gaze fixed on her. "You will know soon enough," he said.
In truth, he had not expected to reveal himself so soon. His intention was to make a move while Joyce was not htoday, with no
one else in the house. Cecelia had been sent away, presenting a rare opportunity for him. He only wanted to investigate and, if
possible, copy what he was looking for without leaving a trace.
Next, he planned to lay low for a while longer. To further uncover Joyce's and the warlord's plans. He was not willing to leave so
soon.
Unexpectedly, Joyce suddenly returned home. He only had tto close the computer, unable to leave in time.
Her keen senses already detected his presence.
Knowing he couldn't escape, he decided to reveal himself directly. He signaled the helicopter to be ready via a wireless signal. The
rooftop helipad was the perfect escape route for him.
Unfortunately, he did not find what he was looking for.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt
With Joyce disrupting his plans by returning hmidway, he decided to act decisively and take her away. His trip had not been in
vain.
As the "Nightingale" helicopter landed, its door suddenly opened.
"Let go of me!" Joyce struggled but couldn't break free. She shouted, "I don't want to go with you, who are you really?!"
But her voice was drowned out by the noise of the rotor blades.
Clint suddenly lifted her chin, his eyes full of defiance. "I told you, you will know soon enough. Trust me, for savingand treating
"Get away from me," Joyce growled.
Damn it, she had hurried home, her only thought being to detoxify Luther. She had no effective means of communication on her,
and the hsecurity system malfunctioned, leaving her unable to seek help from outside. With childbirth imminent and Luther's
poisoning about to be resolved, how could she be captured at this crucial moment?
She resisted desperately, knowing it was futile.
The prey was already in the hunter's pouch. How could Clint let go? He forcefully took her under the helicopter.
Just as he was about to board.
"Ah! It hurts so much!"
Joyce suddenly cried out in pain, facing an even more challenging problem.
Could it be due to struggling and triggering premature labor?
Moments ago, she felt warm fluid flowing uncontrollably from her lower body, soaking her legs. Then waves of pain rolled in,
making her scalp tingle, unable to help but cry out.
Oh no, could it be?
Before the scheduled cesarean section, was she about to give birth prematurely?
Clint initially brushed it off. He was determined to take Joyce away, regardless of her pregnancy.
However, when Joyce grabbed his arm and pulled downward with all her weight, trembling in his grasp, he realized something was
wrong. She was not well.
He quickly turned his head.
Only then did he notice Joyce's distress. Beads of sweat the size of soybeans formed on her cheeks, rolling down steadily. Her
complexion had turned pale, unlike moments before.
Clint was shocked, bending down and asking anxiously, "What's wrong with you?"
Joce was too in pain to speak, her trembling lips unable to form words.
Clint looked down her well-shaped figure and saw her legs were wet, forming a puddle on the ground. He was startled.
He quickly supported her waist. As a man, he had never experienced something like this.
Could it be? Was her water breaking?
Joyce was now experiencing regular contractions, waves of pain hitting her. She clutched Grayson's arm, slipping to the ground,
unable to alleviate the pain.
Clint crouched down, concerned. "What's wrong? Come, letcarry you onto the plane."
He was about to lift her.
Joyce reached out to stop Grayson, struggling to speak, "I'm in labor, taketo the hospital... please..."
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm
Another wave of pain hit her, unable to stop herself from biting her lip until it bled.
Clint furrowed his brows, never expecting Joyce to go into labor at this moment. He was torn.
"Hold on, I'll take you back to Rohomes. | have the best doctors," he said, still unwilling to give up.
Joyce suddenly grabbed his hand, her eyes full of pleading tears.
Shaking her head, she struggled to speak, "Grayson, Grayson... | can't hold on... I'm carrying twins, they will die... | don't know your
purpose... but | have never harmed you... please... taketo the hospital... | owe you a favor, | will repay it in the future..."
She spoke haltingly, determined to finish her plea.
Clint trembled, his lips tight. He couldn't deny that he felt a pang of guilt.
Her resolute and perfect appearance had never shown such a pleading expression before. Vulnerably leaning on his chest, she
looked fragile, evoking sympathy.
Yes, he felt sorry.
He knew if he forcibly took her away, the risk was immense. Hours on the road without a professional doctor on the helicopter. If
her amniotic fluid dried up, the babies could suffocate, putting her life at risk as well.
Yet, he had been exposed. Taking her to the hospital meant abandoning his undercover mission, giving up on this trip. But he
hadn't achieved his goal yet, was he willing to give up?
Clint struggled internally at that moment.
Take her away? Or take her to the hospital?
Leaving her meant possibly losing the chance to get close to her again.