Chapter 94

Chapter 95

"Cured."

Liam chuckled softly.

Diana froze. He'd told her before that only a match with Holden's specific blood type could save his life.

Seeing her reaction, Liam pulled up an encrypted file on his tablet and slid it across to Diana.

"T-cell receptor gene-targeted reconstruction." He pointed to a column of survival rate data on the screen. "Four months ago, Phase III clinical trial. I was the only one in that batch who survived with complete tumor eradication."

Diana had medical training—she could see at a glance just how deadly those numbers were.

That was practically tempting death itself.

"The technology's still evolving. We're nowhere near large-scale application." Liam studied Diana's expression carefully, his voice softening.

"But it proved one thing, at least. Even death sentences handed down by the Grim Reaper can be forcibly rewritten."

"When you were diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer, the doctors said you had three months. And yet here you are, sitting right in front of me, alive and well."

Diana took the tablet, scrolling through the data, studying it word by word.

After a long moment, she tugged at her dry, cracked lips and let out a relieved laugh.

"I'm done trying to die."

She lifted her head, the dead ash in her eyes reigniting into razor-sharp resolve.

"When I jumped into that ocean, if I owed Nicholas and the Russell Family anything—even if I did—I've paid it back in full. From here on out, I'm the one collecting debts."

"The only thing I need to figure out now is..."

"Do I stay here and dig up the truth about how my mom was framed all those years ago? Or do I lay low for a while first?"

Liam pulled up a satellite sonar map of the ocean area.

On the screen, dozens of dots representing Kennedy Family helicopters and rescue boats swarmed like starving wolves, locked onto that stretch of water.

"Hide," Liam said bluntly. "You know him. The second you show your face anywhere in Sunrise City, Nicholas will mobilize the entire Kennedy Group's resources and connections to lock you back in that cage."

"Diana, if only for the baby's sake, you need a completely safe place to recover."

Diana glanced down at her still-flat stomach, fingers twisting in the fabric of her clothes.

A moment later, she let go.

"Alright. I'll do what you say."

Three days later, Sunrise City.

Harborview Medical Center, top-floor VIP suite.

Nicholas sat slouched against the leather sofa, eyes bloodshot, jaw covered in stubble. The thin hospital gown hung loose on his shoulders, and an IV catheter was still taped to the back of his left hand.

The TV was tuned to the news channel.

"Russell Group stock hit another trading halt today, evaporating over four billion dollars in market cap. Chairman Ryder was mobbed this morning outside corporate headquarters by suppliers and protestors..."

On screen, Ryder was being hustled into a town car by several bodyguards, looking utterly disheveled.

"Sold your daughter for power, pushed their flesh and blood to suicide!" Eggs and rotten vegetables splattered across his expensive suit as protestors shoved banners right up to the camera.

The feed cut to social media trending topics.

A high-definition, uncensored video had dominated the charts for three solid days. In it, Lindsey was shown wetting herself in terror in the cargo ship's hold, screaming hysterically at mercenaries to kill Diana.

The comment section was nothing but vitriol aimed at Lindsey.

[What 'innocent woman'? Sewer rats are cleaner than her!]

[No wonder Diana would rather jump into the ocean than deal with this psycho!]

Raina had spent tens of millions trying to suppress the trending topic. Not only did it fail, but some anonymous hacker had traced it back and leaked tax fraud records from three of her companies.

The hospital room door swung open.

"Mr. Kennedy." Terry strode in quickly, clutching several files.

"Ryder's side has sent four legal notices demanding we honor the engagement and investment agreements."

"Also, Raina's been screaming in the lobby downstairs for three hours. She says Lindsey's having a mental breakdown from all the cyberbullying and is begging you to issue a statement to clear things up."

Nicholas let out a cold sneer.

"Clear up what? How she pissed herself?"

Terry coughed dryly and shrugged.

He was about to ask about next steps when the door was kicked open.

David strode in wearing full combat fatigues.

"No good news."

He slapped a water-stained sonar scan report onto the coffee table.

"My guys turned the underwater currents upside down for a hundred and ten miles in every direction. Sonar came up empty. No body. Not even a scrap of fabric."

Nicholas whipped around, eyes boring into the report like he wanted to set it on fire.

David sat down and poured himself a glass of water without asking.

"But look at it this way... no bad news either. We didn't find a body, right?"

"There must've been a submersible waiting down there to pick her up. This whole thing was set up beautifully. She planned it all out. She got lucky, didn't die, and now she's hiding."

Nicholas's jawline went taut, fingers cracking audibly as he clenched them.

David looked at his wrecked state and sneered inwardly.

Should've thought of this before.

"I told you from the start—don't push things too far." He set down his glass, his tone taking on a sharper edge.

"Nicholas, I'm just gonna say it! That border op years ago—twelve-man spec ops team, and you were the only one who made it out alive. Ever since you came back, you haven't been right in the head."

"Extreme obsession, control freak tendencies—anything that slips out of your sight, you have to crush it... You've been sick for a long time!"

"Diana's had enough of your psycho bullshit. She ran. You should be grateful she's still alive instead of sitting here scheming about how to drag her back and lock her in a cage again!"

Nicholas slammed his fist onto the coffee table. "Shut up!"

"Nope." David rolled his eyes and headed for the door. "Your self-righteous possessiveness is nothing but a burden to everyone else. Get your shit together."

"Next time you lose it and jump into the ocean, I'm not sending anyone to fish you out."

Soon, the room fell silent again.

Nicholas collapsed back onto the sofa, hands covering his face. In his mind, the image of Diana falling backward into the deep sea replayed over and over.

"You can't escape..."

He muttered hoarsely, "Your mother's still in my hands. You, Diana—you'll spend every life you have breathing only on my turf."

Ring ring ring.

The shrill sound of the dedicated hotline shattered the silence.

Terry picked up immediately. Half a minute later, his face went deathly pale.

"Mr. Kennedy! We have a problem!"

"Downstairs in the special care unit—Gemma's external circulation pump just went into alarm mode! It triggered severe acute multi-organ failure. The attending physician just issued a critical condition notice!"

Nicholas's mind went blank.

"She needs emergency coronary bypass surgery immediately, or she won't last half an hour!"

He yanked the IV catheter out of his hand, grabbed a bloodied piece of gauze to press against it, and bolted for the door.

"Lock down the entire hospital! Get all the emergency specialists from the helicopter down here now!"

The elevator plummeted.

Nicholas stared at his own distorted reflection in the elevator doors, his heart feeling like it was being crushed by an invisible hand.

If Gemma died... No, she couldn't die!

With her gone, the last thread tying Diana to this world snapped completely.