CHAPTER 69: CHAPTER 69: HAS THE CHILD BEEN COMPLETELY LOST?

Grandmother’s accident felt like the sky had fallen for Victoria Monroe.

She knew everyone faces birth, aging, illness, and death, but who doesn’t wish for their loved ones to be free from pain and peacefully pass away in old age?

She took her grandmother for a check-up hoping to extend her life as much as possible, but who knew something like this would happen?

Victoria Monroe sat alone in the pitch-dark emergency exit, quietly wiping away her tears.

From above, Rhys Hawthorne’s deep voice reached her: "Don’t cry."

Victoria Monroe stiffened; she didn’t want Julian Fordham to find her, so she hid here to avoid him.

The green glow from "emergency exit" outlined the man’s tall figure.

Her gaze moved up along the man’s long dress pants, the silver metal belt buckle at his waist refracted a cold light in the dim stairway.

The man was dressed in black, his figure elegant and slender, his striking appearance extremely eye-catching, and the eyes that saw through everything were focused intently on her.

Tears rolled down the woman’s delicate chin one by one, her cheeks flushed from crying with her face covered.

Such a pitiful appearance made one’s heart ache and itch.

He leaned down slowly, his warm fingertips gently brushing her tear-stained eye corners.

The woman’s tears flowed ceaselessly like springwater, soon soaking his fingertips.

Victoria Monroe was terrified but stubbornly favored darkness.

As if she could hide all her unbearable and fragile parts in the dark, she was accustomed to avoiding in this way.

Yet, she was still found by Rhys Hawthorne.

With his approach, the sandalwood scent unique to his body lingered on his fingertips, and just that bit of warmth from their contact made Victoria’s suppressed emotions desperate for a release.

Her teary eyes met the man in front, then she croaked, "Rhys, can you help me with something?"

"Hmm?"

Rhys Hawthorne hadn’t reacted yet, as Victoria Monroe suddenly grabbed his wrist, pulling him heavily down.

Perceiving her intention, he offered no resistance; he went along with the movement, bending down on one knee to her.

Victoria Monroe hugged him, her moist tears staining his neck, her sobbing and fragile voice coming from his embrace, "Let me hold you for a while, okay?"

Their eyes met as Victoria Monroe peered at the man’s expression through her trembling lashes.

Rhys Hawthorne’s eyes were deep and complex, mixed with a wildness beyond the daze, like a starved beast breaking free from chains to finally find its prey, staring at her intensely.

Victoria Monroe’s heart skipped, she blinked, and those eyes returned to their usual indifference and calm.

Maybe it was just the poor lighting; she had seen wrong. How could Rhys have such intense and fierce eyes?

He slowly unfolded his arms, resting them on her back, gentlemanly tapping her back, "Don’t cry, it’s only monitoring her vitals; it doesn’t mean she’s in immediate danger."

Victoria Monroe clung tightly to his clothes, her cheek pressed against his soft sweater, embraced by the man’s gentle warmth.

Due to sadness, her body trembled uncontrollably.

"I know the rationale, but I’m really scared she’ll just leave me like this, and if she goes, I won’t have any family left... "

"I’ve invited top experts over; medical techniques are very advanced now. With me here, grandmother will be fine."

Even though he’s two years younger than her, he was like an elder brother at this moment, steady and reliable, making her feel secure.

She blinked her big eyes, "Really?"

Rhys Hawthorne carefully cupped her cheeks, his thumb gently caressing her soft little face, "I promise, trust me this once, okay?"

On the platform above, Julian Fordham leaned against the wall, eyes filled with pain and bitterness.

His wife seeking comfort in another man’s arms was the greatest humiliation for him.

He closed his eyelids, blocking all the madness in his eyes.

He had only one thought at that moment: rush down and separate the two, to take Victoria Monroe back.

But Victoria’s expression when she said "You truly disgust me" lingered in his mind.

Julian Fordham clenched his fists tight, holding a cup of orange juice, his wife’s favorite.

After a moment’s calm, Victoria Monroe felt a bit better; she wiped her tears with her sleeve, "Thank you."

"Feeling better? Come with me to have some food; the experts will arrive tonight."

"Okay."

Victoria Monroe sensed something and looked up at the floor above—no sign of Julian Fordham, only a crushed cup of orange juice, with yellow liquid slowly flowing down the stairs like blood...

*

Rachel Hayes amused Lana Jameson, and the two of them strolled outside until it got dark. Lana bought her quite a few new clothes.

She hummed a tune, closed the door, and was just about to turn on the hallway light.

A sudden chill ran up her spine, as if a gaze had locked onto her.

She looked up towards the sofa, only seeing the back of a tall man sitting there.

With the light behind him, his features were obscured, her heart pounded fiercely, threatening to let out a scream at any moment.

"Click!"

The sound of a lighter echoed from the living room, and a golden flame danced before her eyes.

In that flickering light, she met a pair of dark, unpredictable eyes, tinged with a bloody red, like a demon crawling out from hell.

The household servants had been sent away a few days ago, leaving just him and her in the entire living room.

Rachel’s legs went weak, her body instinctively trembling.

The last time Julian Fordham appeared here, he had used shards to cut her face.

Although the wound wasn’t large, she would need cosmetic surgery in the future.

That time, she had witnessed the madness inherent in the man.

She licked her lips cautiously and said, "Pres, President Fordham, I-I’m already packing. I’ll definitely move out within three days."

The man took a cigarette from the box with his distinctively jointed hand, leisurely, each movement carrying the dignity of someone superior, making him unattainable.

The white cigarette burned gently in the flame, a wisp of white smoke leisurely rising, enveloping the man’s handsome face, making him even more unreadable.

He said nothing, leaving Rachel too afraid to move, her body pressed tightly against the wall, trembling uncontrollably.

She watched the man throw his head back casually exhaling a smoke ring, his pronounced Adam’s apple moving up and down, inexplicably seductive.

Rachel’s eyes betrayed a hint of uncontrollable affection.

This man was too outstanding, with such perfect looks, which is why she had considered taking a risk to try her luck.

In the suffocating silence, she heard Julian Fordham’s low voice, "Did you go to the hospital today?"

Autumn Fordham had also guessed that something happened with Victoria Monroe, fearing that Julian Fordham would find out, she specifically called Lana Jameson and Rachel Hayes, instructing them not to admit going to the hospital.

Moreover, last time Julian Fordham had clearly severed ties with them, and knowing she was still in private contact with Lana Jameson, he would never be lenient.

Rachel spoke, "What hospital? President Fordham, I don’t quite understand what you mean. I just accompanied a heartbroken friend to buy some clothes today."

Julian Fordham slowly stood up and walked toward her. With each step closer, Rachel’s fear intensified.

The man spoke lightly, "There’s a thermos lunch box on Autumn Fordham’s bedside table from home. If it was just my mother visiting her, she wouldn’t lie to me. There’s only one reason she would hide the truth."

Julian Fordham had already stopped in front of Rachel, towering over her, his gaze like the Grim Reaper’s.

The man was already tall and built like a mountain; as the overwhelming murderous intent approached, Rachel felt her bladder tighten, nearly wetting herself in fright.

Julian Fordham raised his hand, his thumb and forefinger gripping her throat, delivering his conclusion word by word, "You went with my mother."

Just based on Autumn Fordham’s small trick, how could she deceive him?

He didn’t need to check the surveillance; he already knew she was lying.

The trembling woman confirmed it all.

"So what did you do, what did you say, spell it out one word at a time, or I’ll ruin your face!"

His thumb and forefinger pinched the woman’s throat, without too much force, but the red between his index and middle fingers was slowly burning out.

Rachel could clearly feel the temperature of the cigarette getting closer and closer to her skin.

She no longer dared to hide, recounting what happened that morning.

From her account, she truly did not know about the old lady’s incident.

Combining this with Autumn Fordham’s response, Julian Fordham reached a conclusion.

During a chat among those foolish women, they must have let his grandmother hear about the child this woman had once been pregnant with.

She couldn’t accept the truth immediately and fell ill before meeting Victoria Monroe.

Seeing that cigarette flame getting closer, she pleaded cautiously, "I’m sorry, it was your mother who pulled me over to see your sister, I won’t dare again, I really won’t dare again."

She was so frightened that snot and tears covered her face, making Julian Fordham feel utterly disgusted.

Thinking about the child, he tightened the grip of his thumb gradually, Rachel’s eyes widened in terror as the suffocating sensation overcame her.

"Jul, President Fordham..."

Julian Fordham looked at her as if she were already dead, his voice exceedingly cold as he asked, "Is all evidence of the child gone?"