Chapter 482 Sarah: You Forced Me
At Rainbow Central Hospital, the medical team worked frantically to save Isaac.
Fortunately, Isaac escaped permanent disability, though his condition remained fragile. Hestia clutched her son, sobbing uncontrollably. Having lost her reputation, she held no leverage in her husband's family and had no choice but to align with Matthew.
She reproached Sarah for ignoring the bigger picture and not appeasing Matthew.
Matthew, already guilt-ridden, couldn't tolerate her complaints. "Instead of spending your time with other men, perhaps you should be with your child," he snapped. "Then Oliver wouldn't have leverage over you."
Humiliated by the public rebuke, Hestia was mortified but had no intention of ending her affairs. The Moore family was in complete disarray.
Oliver escorted Sarah and their party to the Montague Group hospital for a thorough examination. Once assured of her wellbeing, they returned to their estate where Claire immediately began sprinkling blessed water throughout the house, muttering protective incantations.
Oliver smiled at her superstitious behavior. "Where did you learn all this?"
Claire remained tight-lipped. The spiritual advisor had warned her—speaking of it would break the charm.
Upstairs, Nicole, still traumatized, curled up in Sarah's arms. Oliver prepared warm milk for her. The child eagerly accepted the bottle, closing her eyes as she drank. Oliver wiped the perspiration from her forehead and cradled her against his chest, gently patting her back. Comforted by her father's familiar scent, Nicole soon fell asleep, the bottle slipping from her mouth.
After placing the bottle on the nightstand, Oliver pulled Sarah close. His voice broke as he gripped her slender shoulders. "Sarah, I failed to protect you and Nicole."
"It wasn't your fault," she whispered, leaning against him and wrapping her arms around his neck in complete dependence. "If you hadn't arrived when you did, we would have lost our baby. Oliver, I've never hated anyone like I hate him now."
"Just wait," Oliver promised, his voice tight with restraint. "I'll make him pay for this."
Their conversation was interrupted by police sirens approaching the courtyard. Oliver carefully got out of bed and peered through the floor-to-ceiling windows. "Matthew works fast," he observed grimly.
Sarah gently laid Nicole down and stood up.
Oliver made a quick call to Zoey, "Buy every headline available—announce that the Windsor Group CEO's wife is pregnant and resting."
Zoey immediately set to work.
Oliver turned to Sarah, his gaze intense. "They're here to detain me. This news will keep you and the children safe—Matthew won't dare touch you now."
"How long will you be gone?" Sarah asked, her voice trembling.
Oliver caressed her face. "Seven days."
Sarah relaxed slightly, until he continued, "If I'm not back in seven days, take what's in the safe and go to Harmony City. Find Octavius Everhart—I've been financing his rise for years. It's time for him to repay the favor."
Sarah felt a lump in her throat, her eyes burning with unshed tears.
To hide her distress, she busied herself in the closet, packing seven days' worth of clothes for Oliver, who was always fastidious about cleanliness.
In the walk-in closet, beneath the crystal chandelier, Sarah fought back tears.
Oliver embraced her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Sarah, put those back. Prison isn't like home. I'll be fine—even Matthew wouldn't dare harm me directly. I'm too well-known."
Sarah remained unconvinced.
Hurried footsteps approached, and Claire called out, "Oliver, an officer is asking for you downstairs."
"I'll be right there," Oliver replied calmly.
As one of Evergreen City's elite businessmen, the police wouldn't dare arrest him upstairs—they had to send the housekeeper as an intermediary, who had apparently given them a piece of her mind.
After Claire left, Oliver turned to Sarah, his voice gentle. "Stay upstairs with Nicole. If she asks about me, tell her I'm away on business."
He gave her detailed instructions, which Sarah tearfully committed to memory.
Before noon, Oliver departed with the police. Sarah watched from the terrace until the car disappeared from view.
She counted the days in agony.
After seven days with no word from Oliver, she went to the detention center but was denied visitation. "Mr. Windsor is connected to a major case," they told her.
False charges were easy to fabricate. Sarah knew this was Matthew's doing—he had no intention of releasing Oliver. He was waiting for her to beg him, to trade bone marrow for her husband's freedom.
Sarah refused to plead. The child in her womb was the product of their love—she would protect it at all costs.
She lingered outside the gray prison walls for hours.
Inside, Oliver lay on a narrow wooden bed, his body covered in wounds. Despite his suffering, he refused to confess to crimes he hadn't committed.
Sarah was waiting for him.
As the sunset painted the sky, Sarah sat in her luxury car, staring at a photograph that had just arrived—Oliver, brutally beaten.
She tilted her head back, fighting tears. The sunset cast an orange glow across her face, making her appear delicate and vulnerable, but her eyes held a deadly resolve.
Though naturally gentle and averse to violence, she had been pushed to her limit.
For Oliver, she would go to Harmony City—but first, she needed to see someone. Zoey spent three million dollars arranging the meeting.
That night, Sarah met Nicholas in his VIP hospital room.
Nicholas was reading on the sofa, the soft light illuminating his handsome face.
As Sarah opened the door, she glimpsed the beautiful young man he once was. How ironic that the more beautiful the past, the more cruel the present.
Nicholas looked up, first shocked, then delighted to see her.
Despite years in high society, his sophistication abandoned him in Sarah's presence. He felt like the young Nicholas again—the boy who quietly read beside her, who demanded to know why she didn't love him.
Sarah gave him no opportunity to speak.
She approached slowly, took his hand, and placed it gently on her abdomen. "Nicholas," she said softly, just as she had years ago.
Nicholas's hand trembled as he gazed up at her, seeing again the woman who had captured his young heart.
"Nicholas," Sarah said, her voice soft but hoarse, "my bone marrow saved your life years ago. Now Isaac is sick, and Matthew secretly tested me—I'm a match. But I'm pregnant, Nicholas. How could I sacrifice my child to save someone else's, especially when the Moore family and I parted ways long ago?"
"Matthew abducted me to extract my bone marrow."
"My husband rescued me."
"Now he's locked up, with Matthew trying to force my compliance. Nicholas, everything stems from you, and only you can save me now."
"You know how, don't you?"
"I never told you—when you had leukemia, Matthew was actually the first match."
Sarah reached out, tenderly stroking his handsome face with compassion.
Tears streamed down Nicholas's face.
On the sofa beside him lay a small knife, gleaming coldly in the light—left there by Sarah.
Her gentle voice whispered in his ear, "Nicholas, your suicide is the only thing that will frighten him."
Nicholas picked up the knife and slashed his major artery. Bright red blood flowed down his wrist, quickly soaking the white carpet.
Once, he cherished the world. Now, for Sarah, he would do anything—even lay down his life.
Outside the hospital room, Sarah tilted her head back, tears in her eyes.
She thought, 'Matthew, you force my hand.'