Chapter 14

Ciara had a broken jaw, bruised knees, face and scalp. Her parents admitted her at the emergency ward, even when they were yet to believe the magic wand she waved that delivered her from that gutted bus.

Onlookers were yet to believe a single soul survived that auto-crash. It was bizarre.

The media propagated the face of Ciara on all the channels, just to inform the populace that a soul narrowly escaped the auto-crash.

But how she did it was yet to be known.

“I did,” Oliver intoned within himself while he watched the news on the TV.

Having lost interest in the news, he turned off the TV, squeezed a cigar between his lips and lit.

“Get well soon, slave, and give me that body,” he spoke yet further while he lust after the naked pale ass of Ciara on his phone.

At the hospital Ciara was hushed and responding to treatment quickly.

The hospital management had restricted the influx of media staff and well wishers from paying her condolence.

When she opened her eyes from slumber, she was caug