Chapter 206
As soon as those words came out, Martin's leg, which was about to step into the elevator, instantly pulled back.
He turned around and walked back to Aaron.
He suddenly grabbed Aaron's black jacket, "What did you say?"
He thought he must have misheard just now.
How could Victoria possibly have terminal liver cancer?
Seeing Martin so tense, Aaron felt relieved inside. It seemed Martin still cared about Victoria after all.
Getting Martin to persuade Victoria—this approach could work.
"Speak!" Martin demanded.
Aaron looked at him and spoke again, "Victoria has liver cancer. The cancer cells have now spread to two-thirds of her body. Her being pregnant now is just speeding up her death."
"Martin, if you really care about her and don't want her to die, you can't force her to have this baby."
Martin blinked his narrow eyes, his mind instantly exploding.
Victoria had liver cancer?
Terminal stage.
Impossible.
How could this be possible.
Anyone could get cancer, but not Victoria.
"Do you know why she miscarried? This is the reason," Aaron added.
Aaron went on, explaining how he was looking for a liver match for Victoria, and asking Martin to take Victoria to abort the baby, then persuade her to wait for the transplant surgery.
Martin's mind was in chaos, completely confused.
He let go of Aaron's black jacket.
He wandered in a daze until he left the mall.
The cold air hit him like knives cutting across his face.
Martin didn't immediately return to the car across the street.
Instead, he stood at the mall entrance and lit a cigarette.
The cigarette glowed as it burned bit by bit.
The bitter wind lifted the corners of his khaki trench coat.
It blew leaves off the dead branches. The leaves fell to the ground, then were swept up by the wind and blown across the street.
The wind was too strong. Martin had difficulty breathing.
Was Victoria's body really in trouble?
Martin didn't know.
Victoria had shown him her medical reports, and the reports did show things were really bad.
But when he took Victoria to another hospital for examination, her body had no problems at all.
The painkillers she was taking—he had them tested too. They were vitamin tablets.
So who was lying?
Martin felt very annoyed and confused.
He didn't dare imagine what his reaction would be if Victoria really had a terminal illness and didn't have long to live, as Aaron said.
He would go crazy, wouldn't he?
He would break down, wouldn't he?
He had been planning for the three of them to slowly return to how things were before, planning their beautiful and stable future.
He had been planning to try to let go of hatred.
Martin was anxious and flustered. He had only taken one drag of the cigarette in his fingers. Today's cigarette tasted especially bitter.
Because of the wind, the cigarette quickly burned out, faster than he had expected.
He accurately tossed the cigarette butt into the trash can not far from him.
Then he took out his phone and called Terry.
Terry answered quickly, respectful as always, "Mr. Collins, do you have any instructions?"
"Does Victoria have terminal liver cancer?" When Martin asked this, his heart felt so tight he could barely breathe.
Terry paused for a long moment, then asked tentatively, "Mr. Collins, have you heard some rumor?"
"I'm waiting for your answer." Martin said, his voice rising with impatience.
Terry quickly gave his conclusion over the phone, "Mr. Collins, I don't know why you would think this, but based on our examination of Mrs. Collins, she is indeed healthy."
Victoria was healthy?
"Mr. Collins, Mrs. Collins is pregnant now, so she's bound to be sensitive. Women need to be coaxed."
He hung up.
Martin felt something was wrong somewhere, but he couldn't say exactly what.
Logically speaking, Terry was his man and had followed him for so many years—he wouldn't dare fake a report.
Could it be that Victoria was lying?
Her heart hadn't been with him for a long time. She was flirting with Aaron—how credible could Aaron's words be?
Martin lifted his foot and crossed the street with a cold expression.
He walked to the black Bentley parked by the roadside, then pulled open the car door and got in.
Victoria had been enjoying the heater. When the door on one side was pulled open, a fierce wind rushed in.
It messed up her long hair, with loose strands sticking to the side of her face.
Even her breathing became irregular from the wind.
She had just been worried about whether Aaron would be bullied by him.
And then he came.
Martin glanced at her pale face, completely devoid of color, then quickly got into the driver's seat, and closed the door.
The cool fragrance drifted to Victoria's nose.
This was his favorite cologne.
She was very familiar with it.
This cologne was one she had helped him choose back then.
She hadn't expected that even though they'd come to this point, he was still using it.
The clothes and shoes she had bought—he hadn't replaced any of them.
Even with new clothes, he still used the brands she had once chosen for him.
Martin still maintained the perfect appearance she had created for him.
Handsome, cool, mature, sharp.
Like a cup of coffee, rich and fragrant.
But only Victoria knew that the current Martin was just a wolf in human skin. She had been deceived by this human skin of his back then.
Martin suddenly leaned forward, moving closer to her.
He pressed in toward her, his body invading her space.
Warm breath fell on Victoria's cheek and neck.
Victoria's ears instantly turned red.
When such a cold-hearted person suddenly came close, she would still feel her heart flutter, her heartbeat accelerate.
Victoria felt her breathing quicken.
She thought he would kiss her, but he just fastened her seatbelt.
Martin's mind was full of Aaron's words, so naturally he didn't notice her reaction.
Sitting up straight, he placed both hands on the steering wheel and drove, lost in thought, not saying a word.
Victoria didn't speak either. She quickly snapped out of it, took out her phone, found Aaron on WhatsApp, and sent him a message: [Are you okay? He didn't give you trouble, did he?]
From the corner of his eye, Martin saw her typing.
He glanced again at her lifeless face.
He thought again of the scene of Victoria in the snow, blood pooling beneath her.
It was shocking.
Impossible to shake off.
He thought again of Victoria knocking over things in the master bedroom. He had been drawn over and saw her crawling on the floor with difficulty, her fingers clutching at his pant leg, begging him to help her find painkillers.
He thought of how, in front of him, she had poured out a whole bottle of pills and swallowed them dry, forcefully.
He thought of her handing him a thick stack of medical records, smiling at him wearily, saying, "Martin, I have cancer. I'm going to leave you."
"Martin, if one day I suddenly disappeared and you could never find me again, would you be sad? Would you cry?"
And there was the question she had asked countless times—at this moment, it was all playing like a loudspeaker in his ears, over and over and over again.
Back at the apartment, Victoria walked ahead.
Martin noticed her figure—she had indeed become much more bloated, indeed much weaker.
"Do you really have cancer, or is it fake?"
Victoria was bending down to change her shoes when she heard Martin's sudden interrogation.