Chapter 324 Attacking His Brother At His Father's Funeral

Chapter 324 Attacking His Brother At His Father's Funeral
Emma's POV

The soft knock on my hospital room door pulled me from my thoughts. Eleanor entered, carrying a wicker basket filled with organic fruits and vitamin supplements.

"Emma, dear." Her smile was warm despite the sadness in her eyes. "I brought you some things to help with the baby."

"It's wonderful news," Eleanor continued, placing the basket on my bedside table. "You'll be a mother too." She squeezed my hand. "Why don't you come stay at the Reynolds house? I can look after you properly there."

I hesitated. The Reynolds family had contributed to my parents' death. But for ten years, they'd also been the closest thing to family I had.

"Thank you, Eleanor, but I think I'll be fine here," I said gently.

She nodded, understanding in her eyes. "Jonathan's condition has worsened," she said quietly. "But when I told him about your baby, he seemed... brighter. Like a small light had been turned on."

My throat tightened. "Eleanor, I want you to know something." I took her hand. "Next life, if we meet again, I'd like to be your daughter."

Tears welled in her eyes, and she leaned forward to kiss my forehead.

---

My phone buzzed with a notification. I glanced at it and gasped—there were photos and videos circulating online of Ryan Blackwell with a badly beaten face.

I immediately knew who was responsible. Gavin's revenge for Ryan's treatment of me.

Before I could say more, my phone rang. Gavin's name flashed on the screen.

"Emma," his voice was low, hollow. "My father... he's gone."

The words hung in the air. Jonathan—the man who had funded my education, who had welcomed me into his home after my parents died, who had also likely played a role in their deaths—was gone.

"He asked for you at the end," Gavin continued. "Your name was the last thing he said."

I closed my eyes, conflicted emotions washing over me. "I'll come to the funeral," I promised.

After hanging up, Rachel entered with my chart. "Your numbers look good," she said, scanning the pages. "I think you can be discharged if you promise to take it easy."

"I need to attend Jonathan's funeral," I explained.

Rachel frowned but nodded. "I'll come with you. Jonathan was always kind to me too. I'll arrange for my shift to be covered."

The Reynolds estate was draped in black when we arrived. Rain fell in a fine mist, giving the mansion an ethereal, ghostly appearance. Black cars lined the circular driveway, but something felt off.

"Where are all the older people?" Rachel whispered as we entered. "Jonathan was in his sixties. Shouldn't there be friends his age?"

She was right. The mourners were predominantly young—thirties or younger. Men in tailored suits with hard eyes, women with calculating glances.

"Something's wrong," I muttered. "This doesn't feel like a funeral. It feels like..."

"A business meeting," Rachel finished.

Eleanor appeared suddenly, her face tear-streaked. She clutched my arm with surprising strength and pulled me close.

"Emma," she whispered against my ear, "Gavin is in the underground garage. You need to save him."

My blood ran cold. "What's happening?"

"Aiden," she breathed. "He's using the funeral to... to make a statement. Please hurry."

I exchanged a glance with Rachel, who nodded imperceptibly.

"I'll create a distraction," she murmured. "You go."

Eleanor suddenly swayed and collapsed dramatically into a nearby chair. "I feel faint," she announced loudly.

Aiden rushed to her side. "Mother, let me help you to your room."

Rachel stepped forward. "I'm a doctor. Let me assist."

As Aiden helped Eleanor upstairs with Rachel following closely, I slipped away toward the garage entrance. Eleanor's final words to Aiden drifted down the hallway: "Aiden, I might not make it... I may need to join your father soon..."

The underground garage was dimly lit and smelled of motor oil and concrete. I moved cautiously between luxury vehicles, my heels clicking softly on the cement floor.

"Gavin?" I called softly.

No answer.

In the far corner, something caught my eye—an old car covered in a thin layer of dust except for a smudge near the driver's door. I recognized it immediately: the first Reynolds family car, kept as a heirloom rather than being restored. Jonathan had once told me proudly that this car had launched the family fortune. It was also the source of Aiden's resentment; he'd been forbidden to drive it even on his sixteenth birthday.

I approached carefully and peered through the window. My heart nearly stopped.

Gavin was inside, slumped against the steering wheel, his hands bound behind his back. Blood trickled from a cut above his eye.

I grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall and smashed the passenger window. Glass shattered inward as I reached through to unlock the door.

"Gavin," I called, shaking him gently. "Gavin, wake up."

His eyelids fluttered. "Emma?" His voice was raspy. "It's Aiden. He—"

"Well, Emma," Aiden's voice came from behind me. "You really are as smart as I always thought. Never disappointing."

I spun around to face him, still clutching the fire extinguisher.

"It's not that I'm heartless," he said, his voice eerily calm. "It's that they never treated me like family."

"This is your idea of justice? Attacking your brother at your father's funeral?" I demanded.

"I am what they made me," Aiden's eyes darkened. "What you all made me."

He took a step toward me. "Since you're so determined to jump into this, I might as well accommodate you."

I raised the fire extinguisher defensively. "Aiden, don't come any closer."

"Emma," Gavin called weakly from behind me, his voice barely audible. "Don't..."

I understood immediately. It wasn't that Gavin feared I might hurt Aiden. It was that he was worried I'd hurt myself in the process.

Aiden's eyes swept over our little tableau with undisguised contempt. He looked from me to Gavin, then to the elderly manager who stood nearby, and back to me.

Aiden sighed as if dealing with a stubborn child. "Emma, be reasonable. Hand over whatever Blake gave you, and I promise you'll be protected. Your little family—you, Gavin, the baby—you can have everything. Wealth, security, position. All you need to do is make one simple trade."

"And live knowing my child's future was bought with a dirty deal?" I shook my head. "How could I ever look at my baby and feel proud? I'd rather live honestly in a studio apartment than in a mansion built on corruption."

Aiden's patience visibly thinned. He clapped his hands sharply, and within seconds, the garage filled with the sound of footsteps as at least fifteen men in dark suits entered, surrounding us.

"Nobody leaves," Aiden commanded. "Not until tomorrow's funeral ceremony is complete. Secure them all."

But strangely, none of the men moved. They stood perfectly still, their expressions blank.

Aiden's smile faltered. "I said secure them!"

"I'm afraid your men aren't listening today," came a smooth voice from the shadows.

A tall figure in an impeccable black suit stepped forward. Alaric moved with the quiet confidence of a predator, his expression unreadable as he approached our little group.

"Uncle!" Rachel exclaimed.