Chapter 34: Silver Wounds and Legal Politics
Chapter 34: Silver Wounds and Legal Politics
(Olivia’s POV)
I spotted them immediately as I walked down the hospital corridor. Ethan Grey and Cassandra Evans stood near the reception desk, their backs to me. Even from behind, I recognized Ethan’s broad shoulders and Cassandra’s elegant posture.
The realization hit me quickly – Ethan must be hospitalized here too. After the beating Connor gave him last night, he’d likely be bedridden for at least two weeks.
I wasn’t surprised to see Cassandra with him. These days, wherever Ethan went, she followed like a shadow. He clearly couldn’t bear to leave her behind in Harbor City, even for medical treatment.
I had no desire for another confrontation. No energy for pointless squabbling. So I simply changed direction, taking a longer route to avoid them.
As I passed by at a distance, I felt Cassandra’s gaze lock onto me. Though I didn’t look back, I could almost feel the daggers she was staring into my retreating figure.
“Olivia Winters, you haunt me like a lingering ghost,” she must be thinking.
I knew her well enough to guess her thoughts. She’d be wondering why Ethan had rushed to Riverdale from Harbor City. Was it because of me? Was his injury connected to me somehow? Her jealousy would be twisting inside her like a knife.
Let her wonder. I had my own problems to deal with.
My phone rang as I approached the hospital exit. Connor’s name flashed on the
screen.
“Livvy,” his deep voice carried clear concern. “I just saw the news that someone caused trouble at your firm, and some were stabbed. Are you alright? Where are you? I’ll come find you.”
I shifted the bag of medicine to my other hand. “I’m fine. Just at the hospital, about to go home.”
“Were you hurt?” His voice grew more urgent. “Which hospital are you at?”
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“Just a small cut on my arm,” I reassured him. “Superficial. Will heal in a few days.”
“Which hospital, Livvy?” Connor insisted, his tone leaving no room for evasion.
I sighed and gave him the address. There was no point arguing with him when he used that voice.
I settled into a chair in the hospital lobby to wait. Twenty minutes later, Connor strode through the automatic doors, his tall figure commanding attention from everyone in the vicinity.
His ice–blue eyes immediately found me, then zeroed in on my bandaged arm. Pain and distress flashed across his face.
“Such a serious injury,” he murmured, gently taking my arm to examine the bandage.
I could see him imagining how it must have looked before treatment. If he’d seen my blood–soaked sleeve earlier, his reaction would have been even more intense.
“I’ll assign you bodyguards,” he said resolutely. “Being a lawyer is dangerous, and I don’t want this happening again. Don’t refuse, Livvy.”
Thesitated. Bodyguards seemed excessive, but the concern in his eyes made me nod reluctantly.
Connor’s hand enveloped mine, his touch sending unexpected warmth through me. “I’ll choose two skilled bodyguards for you.”
“One is enough,” I reasoned. “Today was unusual. Normally it’s not that dangerous.”
“Even so, one’s not enough,” he countered firmly.
I frowned, thinking about the practicalities. “It might be inconvenient at work. Having bodyguards following me around the office…”
Connor’s expression turned thoughtful. “I’ll speak to Moonlaw’s owner, set up a
security room at the office. Your bodyguards can stay disguised as security
personnel.”
That made sense. After today’s bloody incident, increased security would benefit
everyone.
“Alright,” I agreed, “Thank you.”
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Over the next few days, I pieced together the full story behind the attack. Harold Jackson was a private business owner whose company had lost a breach of contract lawsuit handled by Gregory Thompson, my colleague at Moonlaw.
The court had frozen his company’s assets for enforcement, but Gregory hadn’t stopped there. He’d dug deeper, uncovering evidence that Harold had been mixing personal and corporate finances, making illegal fund withdrawals.
The court then seized his real estate and movable assets. Simultaneously, his wife betrayed him, absconding with their remaining money and beginning an affair with his former business partner.
Driven to despair, Harold blamed all his misfortune on the lawyers of Moonlaw, culminating in his frenzied knife attack. Thankfully, Gregory had survived after emergency treatment.
True to Connor’s word, Moonlaw soon set up a dedicated security room. Two burly, muscular men were stationed there–unmistakably the bodyguards Connor had arranged.
Their presence was a constant reminder of Connor’s care and protection. I found myself gradually accepting his presence in my life, a stark contrast to my severed ties
with Ethan Grey.
(Ethan’s POV)
Two weeks in a hospital bed felt like an eternity. The physical pain from Connor’s beating was excruciating, but the mental torment was far worse.
I called Olivia countless times. She never answered. Not once.
I texted her my hospital room number, hoping she might visit. She never came.
Every time the door opened, I held my breath, foolishly hoping it might be her. Each time, disappointment cut deeper than Connor’s fists ever could.
The image of Olivia with Connor played on endless loop in my mind. The way she looked at him. The way he touched her with such possessive certainty.
Jealousy and regret gnawed at my heart like hungry wolves. What had I done? How had I let things deteriorate so badly between us?
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After enduring these days of emotional torture and physical recovery, I was finally being discharged. Since Olivia refused to come to me, I would go to her. I needed to see her face–to–face, to make her understand.
On discharge day, I led the way out of the hospital, with Parker Davis and Cassandra flanking me. My body still ached, but I pushed through the pain.
As we walked to the parking lot, I turned to Parker. “Has everything been arranged with Silverridge Pack?”
“Yes,” Parker replied efficiently. “Next Friday at 8 pm, Alexander will attend a
gathering, and I’ve secured an invitation.”
I slid into the car, wincing slightly as my bruised ribs protested. Parker took the
passenger seat.
“What kind of gathering?” I asked, my mind already working through potential strategies.
“It’s a welcome and debut ceremony for Alexander Winters‘ cousin, who’s just
returned to Riverdale,” Parker explained. “Alexander will formally introduce her to his
business network.”
In the backseat, Cassandra affectionately linked her arm through mine. I quietly
pulled away, leaving her face stiff with awkward rejection.
I knew she was confused. Back in Harbor City, I had been passionate and indulgent
with her. Now, in Riverdale, I couldn’t bear even a simple touch.
“Ethan, what’s wrong with you…” she began, her voice tinged with hurt.
“How old is Alexander’s cousin?” I interrupted coldly, ignoring her question
completely.
Parker shifted uncomfortably, sensing the tension. “In her twenties, quite young.”
“Any detailed information?” I pressed.
“Sorry, Mr. Grey, I couldn’t find specifics,” Parker admitted. “Clearly, Mr. Winters
protects her privacy well.”
That made sense. A well–shielded heiress’s details wouldn’t be easy to uncover.
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“I did hear she’ll be engaged in half a month,” Parker added, “and Alexander values her greatly. If you prepare a generous engagement gift, she might be pleased, and it would make Alexander more agreeable to our proposition.”
I pondered this silently. It was a clever angle. Winning over a young woman would be far easier than dealing with Alexander directly–a new approach for my business maneuvering, even as my personal life lay in tatters.
With a well–chosen engagement gift, perhaps I could open a back door via Alexander’s beloved cousin. After all, how difficult could it be to sway a
twenty–something woman’s heart?
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