"Please, let me stay until I know Father is out of danger," Selina begged, fully aware she had no right to be there and hoping to avoid a scene by forcing her presence.
"Please, Mom, let her stay," Clarissa interjected softly, but she immediately swallowed her words under Leah's infuriated glare.
"Go away, Selina," Leah commanded, leaving no room for argument.
Selina glanced towards the operating room hallway, tempted to wait until the surgery was over, but she didn't want her disobedience to cause a scene, especially given Leah's bitterness.
Just as Selina was about to leave, she noticed the surgeon approaching with a relaxed expression that barely hid a hint of stress.
The surgeon stopped in front of them, surveying the group.
"Where's the patient's relative?"
"You heard incorrectly, doctor. She's not family, and you should be careful about trusting an outsider with your patient's life," Leah responded, right as Selina was about to voice a concerned response.
Outsider? That word hit Selina hard, making her heart sink once more. She was supposed to be used to it, but it always stung when Leah or other family members labeled her that way.
The surgeon picked up on the tension in the air, noticing the family dynamics unfolding before him.
"Are you the patient's guardian?" he asked.
Leah stepped forward, nodding. "Yes, I'm his wife, and," she pointed to Clarissa beside her, "this is his daughter."
"How is my father, doctor?" Clarissa asked, her voice filled with concern as Selina listened intently.
"We successfully removed the bullet, and he will be moved to the ICU," the surgeon replied, sending a wave of relief through Selina.
"Can we see him now?" Leah inquired, her voice filled with anxiety, though she tried to stay calm.
"The patient arrived in critical condition, having lost a significant amount of blood. He was already in a state of trauma when admitted, and given his existing health issues, he's currently in a coma," the surgeon explained.
"When will he wake up?" Leah asked again.
"I cannot predict when he will regain consciousness. I assure you that we will closely monitor his recovery," the surgeon said before walking away.
Without hesitation, Leah moved from the lobby to see Hudson in the ICU.
Clarissa noticed Selina was anxious to tag along. "I will keep you updated on Father's condition," she reassured her.
"Okay," Selina replied.
"And don't take Mother's words too personally. She's just stressed and worried about Father," Clarissa added, hoping Selina wouldn't dwell on their mother's harsh comments.
Selina gave her a faint smile. "I understand."
Clarissa nodded and took a deep breath before continuing on her way.
Suddenly, an urgent thought crossed Selina's mind, and she called out to Clarissa.
"Clarissa."
Clarissa stopped in her tracks and turned to face Selina. "Yes, Selina? You look troubled. Do you have something to share with me?" she asked, noticing Selina's hesitation.
Selina curled her hands into fists as the truth pressed at her lips, but she swallowed it back. Not yet, she reminded herself.
"Just help them with the family business. They'll need steady hands if things change," Selina finally replied.
With her grandfather's health issues related to blood pressure, her father and stepmother had been managing the family business effectively.
Unaware of Selina's true feelings, Clarissa nodded. "All right," she said, resuming her previous path.
Selina bit her bottom lip harshly, exhaling in frustration. She was angry with herself for not being able to at least warn Clarissa about the assets.
As she turned to leave the hospital, her feet felt rooted to the spot—unwilling to go without one last glance at her father. Once she left, she didn't know when she'd see him again.
Quietly, she followed Clarissa down the hall until they reached the ICU. When Clarissa stepped inside, Selina froze outside the closed door. Her eyes locked on the scene through the glass, where Leah and Clarissa stood beside Hudson, their faces etched with genuine concern.
They held his hands, speaking softly, though Selina could barely catch their words. She stared at her father, connected to machines that helped him breathe—stable yet fragile, as if his life hung by a thread.
She prayed he would wake up soon, that nothing would ever happen to him again—not to her, Clarissa, or anyone else. She had to find a way to protect them all from Zane's consuming revenge, a force that could cost them everything.
****
Inside the luxurious suite, Zane stood before the large transparent window, with Damien beside him. Damien had just rushed over after completing his operation in the woods while relaying the details of their current objective to Zane.
"We've initiated the liquidation of the public equities," Damien said, holding up his tablet. "Most of Hudson's liquid investments were in public stocks—tech conglomerates, defense firms, and some biotech. Clean, high-volume assets."
Zane turned his head slightly toward Damien. "How much are we looking at?"
"Two hundred million have already been cashed. An additional eighty million is pending once the U.S. market closes. Everything is being routed through the nominee account we established last quarter," Damien replied.
Zane adjusted his glasses slightly. "I want it cleared before the end of today. Children's Hope gets every last cent. Quietly."
Damien nodded, his expression neutral. "Understood. The nominee account masks your identity legally. The donation will appear to come from a neutral philanthropic trust, with no link to you—not even in the charity's private records."
"Good. The only name that matters is the charity's."
Understanding the weight of his boss's words, Damien complied. "Then I'll proceed. The transaction will be complete by the time the event begins tomorrow."
As Damien turned to leave and follow through with his boss's initial plans, he glanced back once more. "I assume you won't be attending the event?"
Zane's expression remained impassive. "No need."
Damien nodded, sensing the finality in Zane's voice. He understood that he had to carry this out anonymously, just as his boss had initially planned, without drawing public attention.
"I believe the next objective is going smoothly, as I wanted," Zane inquired.
"Yes, Boss. With what you've orchestrated and promised them, they wouldn't think twice about returning," Damien answered, his voice laced with confidence.
"You may go," Zane dismissed him.
Damien offered a slight bow and turned away, exiting the living room.
Zane slipped his hands into his pockets, his gaze drifting back to the bustling city beyond the window. Now that Hudson was gone and his daughter was handed over to a cruel man, he wondered how a carefree girl like her would manage to survive the ruthless torment that awaited her.
He was supposed to feel satisfaction and relief at achieving part of his long-sought revenge. Still, the weight of grief and guilt from his own tragedy gnawed at him relentlessly, refusing to dissipate.
Suddenly, Zane turned around at the sound of the door creaking open, pulling him from his thoughts. He noticed Damien walking in urgently, looking tense.
"What is it?" Zane asked, knowing that Damien only looked this unsettled when something serious had happened.
Damien drew closer before speaking. "The scarred man called. He wants to speak to you." He stretched out a burner phone, the call already on hold.
Zane narrowed his brow, a flicker of disappointment settling on his face. "I thought our business with him was over. I told you to get rid of that burner."
Damien lowered his gaze. "He said Hudson's daughter isn't with him."
Zane pulled his hand from his pocket and took the phone, bringing it to his ear. "What did you do with the girl?" he demanded, confusion and a hint of concern tightening his voice.
The scarred man's chuckle came through the receiver. "I didn't do anything to her," he replied. "Someone figured out what I like most and traded the girl for my favorite things after you left. He was handsome and seemed pretty upset that I tried to snatch his lover."
"Who was it?" Zane pressed.
"I don't know," the scarred man said nonchalantly. "I'm not interested in that ugly girl. Let's get back to business—something much more profitable for both of us: get me more pretty girls, and I'll pay handsomely."
"Bullshit," Zane snapped, then hung up abruptly.
The room fell silent, thick with the rising tension from Zane's brewing rage.
"That estate was one of your private properties, hidden from public record. Who do you think found out she'd be sold and arrived in time?" Damien asked, his tone edged with curiosity.
Zane was silent for a moment. Between him and Damien, no one else knew about the revenge plans. Damien wouldn't betray him, not with so much at stake, which meant someone else had pried into his personal affairs.
His mind drifted to the person who had been around him in Switzerland for the past month before his return, and even now. That person… was Noah.
Noah had crossed the line again.
"What should we do now, Boss? We can't let Selina reveal the incident to anyone. Should I capture her?" Damien uttered anxiously.
"Check on Hudson's body," Zane commanded in a low voice, though a flicker of anger still lurked beneath the calm. "And bring Selina to me. She must not get away."
"Roger that." Damien bowed deeply once more before rushing out of the room.
Zane clenched his fists and jaw tightly as dark, ominous thoughts churned in his mind.