Chapter 77

Chapter 77

Elodie slumped on the hotel carpet, staring at the scattered items on the floor. Her chest rose and fell violently, her eyes filled with disbelief and madness.

Had she truly gambled her entire existence for this, a pathetic pile of worthless junk?

A bitter sense of unwillingness coiled around her, tight as poisonous vines. She frantically swept those old items aside and kept turning over the broken pieces of the wooden box, terrified she might have missed some hidden treasure.

But her search yielded nothing. The box held only memories of a life already ruined.

Elodie sat on the floor in despair when her phone suddenly vibrated.

When “Stella” flashed across the screen, Elodie’s hand convulsed in a spasm of terror, nearly sending the device skittering across the floor.

Her pupils contracted, her heart hammering against her ribs with a frantic, sickening thud.

Why was Stella suddenly calling her?

Had the police uncovered a trail? Was Stella merely a lure to extract a confession?

Or had Mason's funeral been arranged, and they wanted her to come back and attend?

Countless scenarios collided in her mind. Elodie stared at the glowing screen until the ringtone finally bled into silence, leaving her trembling in the wake of a shaky, jagged relief.

Only then did she realize her back was soaked with cold sweat.

She lacked the courage to call back. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at the number again, as if the digits themselves were a lethal curse.

Once her pulse slowed, she began to calculate.

Right now, she had no idea what was going on back home. She didn't know if the police had issued an arrest warrant, or if Stella had already learned the whole truth.

This string of questions made Elodie instantly restless.

She was almost out of money now, and the so-called treasures in the box had turned into a cruel joke.

If this went on, she wouldn't even need the police to catch her. In a few days, she would probably end up begging on the streets.

Was returning her only remaining option?

In her desperation, another name suddenly came to mind.

Ophelia Perez.

They had met abroad years ago.

Back then, Ophelia had kept telling her about a "highly profitable" business she was in and how much money she was making.

At the time, Elodie had scoffed at it, thinking there was no such thing as a free lunch.

But now, with every door slamming shut, that nebulous “opportunity” looked like a lifeline.

With trembling fingers, she found Ophelia's number.

After a moment of agonizing hesitation, she steeled herself and dialed.

The moment the call connected, Ophelia's bright, enthusiastic voice came through. "Elodie, long time no see! What made you think of calling me?"

To Elodie, the greeting was a symphony of salvation.

“I’ve run into… complications,” Elodie said, her voice taut with suppressed panic. “I want in. That business you mentioned—are you still taking people?”

Her voice was tight with barely concealed urgency and panic.

"Yes, of course we are!"

Ophelia's voice suddenly became excited.

“The industry is booming. If you’re willing to put in the work, ten thousand dollars a day isn’t just a dream, it’s the baseline! Where are you now? I'll send someone to pick you up, and we can discuss the specifics!"

The tempting promise was sweet as honey, making Elodie temporarily forget the fear of being a fugitive murderer and the humiliation of having no money left.

Elodie gave her address, and as she hung up, a ghost of a smile touched her lips.

But she had no idea she was about to walk straight into a living hell.

Meanwhile, in the VIP hospital room, Alexander finally opened his eyes after being unconscious for three whole days.

The harsh overhead lights forced him to squint, but his mind crystallized instantly around a single name.

"Stella, where's Stella?"

His voice was a ragged shadow of its former self. He struggled to sit up, but a searing flare of agony in his abdomen dragged him back down to the pillows.

Joseph, who had been maintaining a grim vigil, let out a breath of weary relief at his grandson’s wakefulness.

But when he heard that Alexander's first words were asking for Stella, his expression instantly darkened.

"You're still thinking about her?"

Meeting Joseph's unfriendly gaze, Alexander ignored the pain and stubbornly pressed on.

"Grandpa, where is she? I want to see her."

"She won't be coming anymore."

Joseph's tone was ice-cold. "I already told her not to appear in front of you again. You're the heir to the Brown family. You can't be dragged down by this kind of woman."

From his point of view, it was the only rational choice. But Alexander grew anxious.

He struggled to get out of bed, protesting, "Grandpa, how could you do that? Stella did nothing wrong. Everything was my choice. I need to find her!"

Seeing Alexander disregard his own health for a woman, Joseph's anger flared.

He snapped, "Lie back down! Your wound hasn't healed yet. Going out now would be suicide! The Brown family business needs you to inherit it. You carry the responsibility of the entire family on your shoulders. You can't keep losing your head over a woman!"

His words were like a bucket of cold water poured over Alexander's head.

But Alexander's concern for Stella didn't diminish in the slightest.

He knew Joseph meant well, but he couldn't control his longing.

Just thinking that Stella might still be drowning in the pain of losing her father, and might even be facing the danger Elodie had brought all by herself, made him desperately anxious.

Joseph looked at his stubborn expression and sighed helplessly before turning to leave the room. Before leaving, he reminded the bodyguards to watch Alexander carefully and not to let him leave.

Now alone in the hospital room, Alexander lay in bed, his mind filled with images of Stella.

Now alone, Alexander lay in the dim light, haunted by images of Stella. With shaking hands, he retrieved his phone and dialed her number. “The number you have dialed is currently unavailable.”

Once, twice, three times...

Each automated response deepened the hollow ache in his chest.

The unease in Alexander's heart grew stronger. Thinking of the resignation letter Stella had handed him before, he couldn't help feeling panicked.

Was she really planning to completely disappear from his world?

No. He refused to let her vanish into the shadows.

Alexander's eyes hardened as he pressed Chase's number. When the call connected, he immediately ordered, his tone urgent, "Find her. Help me track down Stella's whereabouts—where she is and whether anything unusual has happened."

“Mr. Brown,” Chase stammered, caught in the crossfire. “Your grandfather was very specific. He forbade me from providing any information regarding Ms. Hall. Please, don’t put me in this position.”

"I don't care what Grandpa said. I'm ordering you now—go find her immediately and tell me the results as soon as you have them!"

Alexander's voice suddenly grew heavier, carrying undeniable authority.

There was a long silence on the other end before Chase finally spoke. “Understood, Mr. Brown. I’ll look into it right away.”

After ending the call, Alexander gripped the phone so tightly his knuckles turned white.

At this moment, he had only one thought.

Regardless of the cost to his health or his heritage, he would find Stella, stand by her side, and spend the rest of his life atoning for the failures of his past.