Chapter 7
Benedict was usually indifferent and aloof, always carrying a detached air in his eyes. Camilla had never seen him lose control.
But she remembered that day, his gaze was extremely cold. In the icy depths of his eyes, she could clearly see her own reflection.
She remembered the last words Benedict had said to her. “Camilla, is it
“worth it?”
Benedict looked down at her, his beautiful thin lips forming a sharp line.
At that time, Camilla hadn’t given Benedict an answer. Instead, she had walked past him resolutely, never looking back.
But now, Camilla could answer him.
Camilla looked at her pale and gaunt reflection in the mirror and whispered to herself in her heart. ‘It’s not worth it. But Benedict, I will clean up the mess I made with my own hands.‘
On the other side of the night, the neon lights were blazing.
Forvgorn House was the most exclusive private club in Alsewood. Benedict walked out with his hands in his pockets, swinging a file folder in the other hand.
His black shirt collar was lazily unbuttoned, giving off an air of nonchalant playfulness, the epitome of a playboy.
Elias, who was waiting by the car, immediately stepped forward. “Good evening, Mr. Norwood.”
Chapter 7
Elias had been with Benedict for seven years and could tell from Benedict’s expression alone that the deal had gone through tonight.
Benedict casually tossed the file folder to Elias. Inside was twenty–five percent of the shares in Westwide Pharmaceutical.
“From today on, Westwide Pharmaceutical is mine,” he said, his usual languid tone unable to conceal his inherent arrogance. “It belongs to the Norwood family.”
Elias remarked, “When Percival hears about this tomorrow, he’s going to be furious. He’s been eyeing Westwide Pharmaceutical for half a year and couldn’t get his hands on it. But Mr. Norwood, you’ve always stayed away from the domestic pharmaceutical industry. Why the sudden interest in Westwide Pharmaceutical?”
Benedict glanced at him indifferently, and the sense of authority from at superior immediately washed over Elias.
Elias felt a chill down his spine and quickly lowered his head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Norwood. I spoke out of turn.”
He quickly took a few steps forward and opened the back door of the car for Benedict, remembering another matter. “Mr. Norwood, the hospital has been arranged. The surveillance and elevators on Ms. Winslow’s floor have been shut down. You can go straight there.”
Benedict had settled abroad in recent years and kept a low profile wheneve
he returned to his home country, staying only for a few days before leaving once his business was done.
But one thing was unwavering. Whenever Benedict came back, he would visit Alsewood and see a woman in a hospital. To be precise, it was a woman in a vegetative state.
Once, driven by curiosity, Elias had mustered the courage to ask
Chapter 7
Benedict, “Mr. Norwood, who is Ms. Winslow?”
Benedict, who was reading a document at the time, hadn’t even lifted his eyes and had casually replied, “A fool.”
Elias had wanted to say, “If she’s just a fool, why do you fly back every year and go out of your way to visit her in Alsewood?” But he didn’t dare.
However, today, Benedict had uncharacteristically refused. “No more visits.”
Elias was somewhat surprised but didn’t dare to ask further. “Yes, sir. I’ll take you straight to the hotel to rest.”
Benedict bent down and got into the car, leaning back with his eyes closed, a hint of fatigue spreading across his features.
The car glided forward. Streetlights flickered through the partially lowered window, casting intermittent light on the man’s chiseled face.
“Elias,” Benedict suddenly spoke in a low voice. “Have Woodein House cleaned up. I’m moving in tomorrow night.”
Elias was both shocked and delighted. “Mr. Norwood, you’ve finally decided to stay.”
Benedict lifted his eyelids and glanced out the window. The dim. streetlights seemed to resemble the setting sun at the airport seven years
ago.
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