Chapter 7
Seeing the wounds on her fingers, Charles’s voice softened without warning.
“You’ve been through a lot. Thank you, Vivian.”
He pressed gentle kisses across her forehead, his voice low and heavy.
“Last night… Evan was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia.”
Vivian’s heart gave a sharp jolt.
“I need to stay by his side during this time,” he said. “Vivian, I hope you can understand what it means to be a father. I’ve hired the best doctors for you, brought in the finest medication money can buy. Please, focus on your recovery. Once Evan gets better, I’ll send them both abroad. Everything you’ve suffered-I’ll make it up to you. Okay?”
Before Vivian could say a word, he turned and hurried away.
She reached for the ointment and gently dabbed it onto her fingers.
The pain was dull, almost nonexistent-yet her tears wouldn’t stop falling.
All because she loved him, her body was covered in wounds, her family torn apart.
Charles, what could you possibly give to make up for all of this?
For the next half-month, Vivian never saw him again.
She followed her treatment regimen diligently, and soon, her eyesight fully recovered.
That day, without informing Charles, she checked herself out of the hospital and returned home.
She began packing up her life in that house.
The anniversary photos they took each year-she fed them one by one into the shredder, her face devoid of all expression.
The half-knitted scarf they’d once worked on together-she rolled it up with care and dropped it into the trash without
hesitation.
The sticky notes covering the fridge-she peeled them off, one after another…
Only when the house was stripped clean did Vivian pull out a package from under the bed.
Inside was a set of miniature surveillance cameras, sent by her godmother.
She climbed up the ladder, fixing the cameras discreetly in every hidden corner of the villa.
If Charles refused to let her call the police, refused to let her seek justice for her parents through legal means-
Then she’d find her own way.
One day, the truth would come to light.
Mom… Dad… just a little longer. Dawn will come.
As she finished installing the final camera, the sharp click of high heels rang out behind her.
Diana stood with her arms crossed, her tone shrill and suspicious.
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“What are you doing?”
Vivian froze for a moment, nearly slipping off the ladder.
But she quickly calmed down, dusted off her hands, and climbed down step by step.
“Cleaning,” she said evenly. “The house’s been empty for days. It’s gathered dust.”
“Hmph.” Diana scoffed, giving her a contemptuous glance.
“Slut. Can’t stand being idle for a single day, huh? Charles has something he wants to tell you. But Evan won’t let him leave the hospital, so I came back to change. Come on-you’re driving me there.”
Vivian paused, then nodded in silence.
She didn’t want any more trouble-not when she was this close to leaving.
The car drove steadily down the road.
Diana leaned back in the passenger seat, eyes closed, resting.
They were just a turn away from the hospital when suddenly-
A car shot out from a side street, ramming into them at full speed!
With a deafening crash, the airbags deployed-Vivian lost consciousness.
She didn’t know how much time passed before a bucket of ice-cold water jolted her awake.
Drenched and dazed, she blinked through the dizziness-only to realize she and Diana were tied to chairs inside an
abandoned construction site.
Their hands were bound behind their backs.
Strapped to their chests were bombs with digital countdowns.
Vivian’s throat was parched.
She recognized him-the man in front of them was none other than Grant Whitmore, Charles Foster’s business rival who
had once lost everything to him.
The next second, Charles stormed in like a gust of wind.
His hair was disheveled, sweat dripping down his temples.
His voice shook as he shouted, “Let them go! This is between you and me!”
Grant let out a chilling laugh, holding up his phone to start recording.
“Charles Foster. You stole my business. Left me drowning in debt. My family torn apart. You owe me! I don’t care which one of them you’re here for-if you want them alive, get on your knees and call me Lord!”
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