Chapter 96 You Don't Deserve It
At noon, Emma received a message from Matthew. Julie had died in a car accident while being transported to the police station!
From now on, no one could testify against Karen. She would walk free.
Emma's eyes took on a blood-red tint as she clenched her fists so tightly that her sharp nails drew blood from her palms.
If not for Nicholas's interference, both murderers would already be behind bars.
Seeing the blood dripping from Emma's palms, Evelyn stormed out in fury.
...
That evening, the Harrison Estate was ablaze with lights.
Emma had received a call and returned to the estate. Originally, she had planned to visit over the weekend, but since she would be leaving soon, she naturally wanted to share a meal with Grandpa Robert.
At the dinner table, Robert kept serving Emma food.
"Emma dear, eat more. You look so thin."
Emma curved her lips slightly, chatting with Robert about everyday matters. The atmosphere was relatively warm.
Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the dining room entrance as the butler respectfully approached: "Mr. Nicholas Harrison, welcome home."
Nicholas wore a dark suit, his tall frame commanding and his features sharp and deep-set.
He nodded and walked directly to the empty seat to Robert's right, directly across from Emma.
The air instantly grew tense.
Robert acted as if he hadn't seen him, continuing to cheerfully serve Emma: "Emma, try this duck à l'orange—your favorite."
Emma looked at the duck à l'orange in her bowl and thanked him. She brought it to her lips and took a small bite.
Immediately, her delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly.
"It's so sour! Grandpa, did they put too much vinegar in it?"
Robert made a confused sound. "That can't be right. I remember two months ago you loved sour food. You finished an entire plate that night and even asked for more later! I specifically asked the kitchen to add extra vinegar this time!"
Emma's hand holding the spoon froze.
Nicholas's gaze darkened, like ice forming over deep water.
Emma took a deep breath, acting nonchalant as she served Robert some fish, keeping her voice as steady as possible:
"Grandpa, try this fish. It's steamed—good for your health."
Robert's attention was diverted, and he happily ate the fish.
She continued with gentle reminders: "Grandpa, remember to take the pills I gave you on schedule. I might not... visit as often anymore, so you mustn't get lazy."
Robert's smile faded slightly. He sighed and suddenly said:
"Emma, even though you can no longer be a Harrison daughter-in-law, what if I adopted you as my granddaughter? That way, you could visit me legitimately and often."
Emma felt warmth flood her chest and was about to speak when—
"Absolutely not!"
Nicholas's sharp voice cut through the tender moment. His eyes were piercing, his tone brooking no argument.
Robert grew angry just seeing him, stamping his cane heavily on the floor: "You don't get to make decisions in this house!"
Emma quickly grasped Robert's hand, patting it gently: "Grandpa, those are just formalities. Don't worry—I'll call you regularly."
She had changed "visit" to "call."
Robert sighed: "Alright, alright. As long as you still care about this old man!"
He had lost his appetite.
"Emma, come play chess with me in the side parlor."
"Of course." Emma supported Robert as they slowly walked toward the parlor.
Only Nicholas remained in the dining room.
He stared at the barely touched plate of duck à l'orange, its orange glaze garish under the lights.
Something in his chest ached dully.
The pain spread through his entire body.
Nearly eleven o'clock, Emma finally emerged from the parlor, preparing to call her driver.
A figure blocked her path.
Nicholas.
He carried the faint scent of alcohol, his eyes complex as he looked at her.
"Let me drive you home." His voice was hoarse.
Emma's face showed no expression, her voice even colder than ice: "No need to trouble yourself, Mr. Harrison. I've always come and gone alone before. I'm used to it."
Mr. Harrison.
The cold formality pierced Nicholas's heart.
His throat tightened: "Emma, about today—I'll give you an explanation. Can you wait for me a few days? Just until I—"
"No need." Emma cut him off.
She raised her eyes to meet his directly, her gaze calm but radiating bone-chilling coldness.
"Julie is dead. No one can testify against Karen now."
Nicholas's tall frame shuddered violently, his pupils contracting: "Dead?"
His face showed undisguised shock.
Seeing his expression, Emma's lips curved into the faintest smile—but it was pure mockery.
"Nicholas, you must be satisfied with this outcome."
Seeing her cold, stranger-like demeanor, panic surged through his heart.
He lunged forward, grabbing her wrist with enough force to crush bone.
"Emma! I didn't do this! I'll find out the truth! Please believe me!"
Emma wrenched her hand free with decisive force, no hesitation whatsoever.
"It doesn't matter anymore."
She spoke softly, then her tone shifted, becoming light and casual as if discussing the weather.
"After all, it was just an embryo. Nothing worth Mr. Harrison dwelling on."
Her tone was breezy, but her eyes held concentrated poison, radiating boundless hatred.
Nicholas's heart panicked further, as if an invisible hand was squeezing it tight, making him nearly suffocate.
He stepped forward suddenly, opening his arms to pull her into a tight embrace.
His body trembled slightly.
"I'm sorry... Emma... I'm sorry... I didn't know things would turn out this way... don't hate me... please, don't hate me."
He apologized incoherently, his voice filled with pain and despair.
Emma let him hold her without struggling or responding.
After a moment, she placed her hands against his chest and pushed him away firmly.
She looked at him, her face showing an expression of faint, almost pitying sadness.
"Hate you?"
"Nicholas, you don't deserve it."
With that, she turned and walked toward the door without looking back.
And this time, she didn't cry!
Nicholas stood frozen, watching her resolute departing figure—slender but straight.
He desperately wanted to keep her by his side, yet he didn't pursue her.
He desperately wanted to call her "Stella," yet he didn't speak.
"You don't deserve it" echoed in his ears like a curse.
Every word was like a sharp blade, cutting him to pieces.
Death by a thousand cuts!
Suddenly, moisture traced down his cheek. He didn't dare touch it, unsure what it was!
Tagore once said: "The eyes rain for her, but the heart holds an umbrella for her—this is love!"
But those in the midst of it remain blind!
...
Meanwhile, in the garden of a brilliantly lit mansion.
Evelyn held her breath, crouching low as she expertly avoided the villa's security cameras.
Her outfit today was ordinary as a janitor's uniform. The unremarkable man behind her clutched a small camera—their true purpose for this mission.
Zoe's private villa had decent but not top-tier security.
The two managed to infiltrate Zoe's master bedroom without incident. The air still held traces of expensive perfume from an extravagant party.
Time ticked by slowly.
Evelyn crouched behind the massive floor-to-ceiling curtains until her legs went numb.
The man beside her was even more nervous, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Evelyn, will this work?" he whispered, trembling.
"Shut up! Wait!" Evelyn hissed back, her eagle-sharp gaze fixed on the door.
Near midnight, the boisterous music downstairs finally stopped. The party was apparently over.
Now was the moment!
The bedroom door clicked open from outside.
A tall woman entered, followed by three well-built men.
All wore elaborate masks, obscuring their faces.
The woman was undoubtedly Zoe.
She languidly walked to the bed and lay down directly, her posture like a commanding queen.
What followed was a scene that would make anyone blush.
Behind the camera, Evelyn's eyes widened like saucers.
Shocking.
Absolutely shocking.
Damn, they could do it like that?