Chapter 20

"Mr. Williams is already searching the world for bone marrow for you. As long as there's a glimmer of hope, we won't give up, okay?"

Charles stood nearby in his white coat, his expression grave as he watched the data on the heart monitor, letting out a sigh. "Angela, your condition can't be delayed any longer. I've already worked with doctors from multiple departments to develop the latest targeted drug and transplant backup plan. As soon as you agree, we'll start immediately. You're only in your twenties—you shouldn't just give up like this."

Looking at Alan's tearful expression, then at the worried doctor, Angela's parched lips moved slightly.

In her eyes, which had been like stagnant water, a faint ripple finally appeared. She wasn't afraid of death. She was afraid that if she died, Alan would truly become an orphan.

"Alright," her voice was hoarse like sandpaper scraping across a table. "I'll consider accepting the treatment plan."

Hearing this, Alan spun around abruptly, biting hard on the back of his hand to keep tears from falling.

Charles also breathed a sigh of relief. Just then, the phone on the bedside table suddenly vibrated.

The screen lit up with an unread picture message from an unknown number.

Angela reached out with a trembling hand and opened the message.

The image instantly appeared before her eyes—the bedroom at Maple Garden that she knew so well, the dark gray bed she had carefully selected.

Lucas lay sleeping shirtless, with Cora nestled in his arms, her bare shoulder exposed, her face flushed with post-intimacy warmth, smiling provocatively and triumphantly at the camera. The timestamp read: 2:00 AM.

Alan came over carrying warm water and inadvertently glimpsed the image on the screen. His eyes immediately blazed with fury. "That bastard! I'm going to kill him!"

"Alan!" Angela grabbed Alan's wrist.

"Angela! You're this sick, and he's still fooling around with that woman in your marital bedroom! Is he even human?" Alan trembled with rage, tears dropping onto the sheets.

However, Angela's face showed no anger, no sadness, not even a trace of disgust.

Looking at that photo, her heart couldn't produce a single ripple, as if she were looking at two complete strangers.

When the heart was dead, nothing matters—this was exactly that feeling.

For three years, she had exhausted all her love and dignity in this widow-like marriage. Now, it was time to end it.

What she most wanted to do now was just one thing. Angela withdrew her hand and expressionlessly typed a line on the screen and hit send.

[Lucas, 2 PM, courthouse. Divorce proceedings.]

After sending the text, she locked her phone and closed her eyes. "Alan, help me arrange it. I need to go out this afternoon."

At The Conway Group, in the CEO's office, Lucas stood before the large floor-to-ceiling window, a half-burned cigarette between his fingers, his brow furrowed.

The morning scene was like a thorn stuck in his throat—he couldn't spit it out or swallow it down.

The phone on the desk vibrated. He picked it up and saw Angela's name displayed on the screen. Opening the text, those cold words "divorce proceedings" felt like an invisible slap across his face. Lucas's pupils contracted sharply.

Was she so eager to dump him? Couldn't even wait a single day? Last night she was still playing pitiful at the hospital, and today she had the energy to go to the courthouse? Sure enough, her illness was all an act, all a ploy to force him to compromise.

Lucas let out a cold laugh, jabbing at the screen viciously, his response dripping with resentment: [Company has an international meeting. I'm very busy, no time to play these hard-to-get games with you.]

After hitting send, he irritably slammed the phone face-down on the desk and yanked at his suffocating tie. Just then, the office door was gently pushed open.

Cora walked in carrying a cup of hand-ground coffee, her steps light.

"Lucas, have some coffee to perk up. I noticed you didn't look well this morning." Her voice was so gentle it could drip water, as if the morning's awkwardness never existed.

"Leave it there. I'm going to wash my face." Lucas didn't look at her and walked straight into the executive lounge, the sound of running water soon following.

Once Lucas left, Cora's gentle mask instantly shattered.

She rushed to the desk and grabbed the face-down phone. The screen lit up, showing the text conversation he'd just sent.

Cora stared at Angela's message and Lucas's excuse-filled rejection, jealousy nearly driving her mad.

He was lying! There was no international meeting this afternoon! His schedule was completely clear! He was making excuses to delay! He simply didn't want to divorce Angela! Despite what happened last night, he was still clinging to that woman?

"Angela," a vicious glint flashed in Cora's eyes. She realized that Lucas already had a place for Angela in his heart, though he hadn't discovered it himself. If Angela didn't disappear, she would never secure the position of Mrs. Conway.

Cora put down the phone and casually left the office.

At 1 PM, outside a quiet pharmacy on the back street of Evergreen Hospital, Angela wrapped herself in a thick coat, carrying freshly bought fruit.

She hadn't received Lucas's agreement, but knew that text was just an excuse.

She had just turned the corner when a black unlicensed van suddenly braked in front of her.

The door slid open, and two masked, burly men jumped out.

"What are you doing!" Before Angela could cry for help, a cloth with a pungent chemical smell was pressed firmly over her nose and mouth.

Her already weakened body had no strength to struggle. Her vision quickly blurred, and she went limp, being roughly dragged into the vehicle.

The door slammed shut and the van sped away, leaving only scattered fruit on the ground.

At the same time, Lucas was in the conference room listening to executive reports, feeling irritable. Suddenly, Evan burst into the meeting room, his face deathly pale.

"Mr. Conway! Something's happened! Ms. Hayworth has been kidnapped!"

Lucas stood up abruptly, the chair scraping harshly across the carpet. "What did you say?!"

Evan handed over a tablet with trembling hands.

The video was split into two screens. On the left was a dark, damp Lost Pines Warehouse.

Cora's hands were tied behind her to a pillar, her hair disheveled, tears on her face, crying hysterically at the camera, "Lucas! Save me! Lucas, I'm so scared!"