Chapter 134 The Real Mr. West
The helicopter's rotors thundered as it touched down on Skywater Peak.
Emma jumped out first, her gaze sweeping the landing pad—no sign of Nicholas, no unfamiliar aircraft either.
He'd left with the other team members, just as she'd suspected.
She sighed quietly to herself. Perhaps it was for the best; wounded as he was, the Castle would be a better place for him to recover.
Daryl followed behind Hawk as they disembarked. Having survived such a close brush with death, exhaustion radiated from every line of his body, yet his eyes couldn't hide his excitement.
Theo was alive—that was all that mattered.
The heart that had been suspended in worry for half a lifetime could finally find some peace.
A graceful figure burst from the villa like a deer bounding through the forest.
Evelyn spread her arms wide, charging straight toward Hawk with obvious intent.
Just as she was about to throw herself into those familiar arms, her peripheral vision caught sight of a dust-covered, weary face.
"Dad?" Evelyn stopped short, eyes widening in surprise. "What are you doing in Luminous City?"
Daryl maintained his stern expression, fixing her with a pointed look.
"Hmph, if you can come here, why can't I?"
Evelyn immediately changed course, linking her arm affectionately through Daryl's and nuzzling her head against his shoulder.
"Of course you can! Dad, I'm so happy you're here!"
She looked him up and down, her face scrunching with concern.
"Though your look is... pretty wild. All dusty and disheveled—don't tell me you got mugged?"
She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "I'll tell you what—I got robbed on my first day in Luminous City, too. This place is like the Wild West, absolutely lawless!"
Daryl's eye twitched at her words, his sharp gaze cutting toward Hawk.
He'd heard this masked man controlled half of Luminous City's territory.
Feeling Daryl's death stare, Hawk cleared his throat and said gravely, "I'll ensure those blind fools pay an appropriate price."
His tone was calm, yet carried undeniable authority.
Meanwhile, in the Castle bedroom.
Nicholas lay face down on the bed, his gunshot shoulder exposed through a large tear in his clothing, revealing the ugly wound.
The doctor, wearing sterile gloves, held tweezers poised to extract the bullet fragment buried deep in the muscle.
"Mr. Harrison, let me administer anesthesia," the doctor said carefully.
Nicholas didn't even lift his eyelids, his voice cold as ice. "No need."
Just as he spoke, his body tensed slightly.
A strange sensation washed over his limbs—he couldn't feel any stimulus from the wound.
Could Matthew's prediction about losing the five senses be true?
Had his sense of pain already begun disappearing?
The doctor hesitated, sweat beading on his forehead. "Mr. Harrison, this could be extremely painful."
Nicholas pressed his lips into a thin line and repeated, "Just do it."
Cold instruments probed into flesh, turning and scraping against bone with minute, grating sounds.
Finally, a soft "clink" as the bloodied fragment dropped into a metal tray.
Throughout the entire procedure, Nicholas never even frowned.
He could clearly sense the instruments moving within his body, yet felt not an ounce of pain.
His pain receptors had truly vanished!
The doctor quickly cleaned the wound, applied medication, and bandaged it.
Nicholas changed into a clean silk robe and walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows, lighting a cigarette.
The red ember glowed intermittently in the dim light.
He took a deep drag—even the nicotine tasted strangely muted.
The number "23 days" circled his mind like a curse, along with Emma's face—sometimes cool and distant, sometimes graced with a gentle smile.
She was everywhere, consuming all his thoughts.
The next day, Emma made a special trip to the Castle, but the servants told her Mr. West had given orders not to receive any visitors.
She lingered at the entrance for several minutes before handing a servant a small white porcelain bottle containing powerful healing medicine, then departed.
She was worried about him!
Nicholas held the small bottle gently, his fingertips cold.
Soon after, Charlie arrived with the chief legal counsel, Tony Gibson.
Word by word, Nicholas clearly dictated his will, disposing of the Harrison Group's global assets—a process that took three full hours.
After the will was completed and Mr. Gibson escorted back to his hotel, Charlie clutched the weighty document.
Someone was hiding in the corner outside the door, crying more heartbrokenly than anyone.
Eventually, Nicholas called him in, his voice hoarse as he asked, "Charlie, if you only had twenty-some days left to live, how would you spend them?"
Charlie wiped away tears and shouted without hesitation:
"That's obvious! I'd live without regrets! Love whoever I wanted to love, eat whatever I wanted to eat, do whatever I wanted to do!"
Nicholas's body shuddered violently.
No regrets—those words felt heavier than gold.
He'd already decided to retreat, not wanting to burden her, not wanting her to see his final, pathetic state.
But he yearned more than anyone for her forgiveness, her love.
He desperately wanted to compensate for those three painful years of marriage.
He'd never taken her on a proper date, never watched a movie with her, never declared his love, never carefully selected a decent gift, never...
There were too many things he'd never done with her. The more he thought about it, the more his heart felt like an invisible hand was gripping it, then tearing it apart.
His heart ached with excruciating pain.
He suddenly realized that while his body had lost most physical sensation, his heart could still hurt this vividly!
Night fell gradually.
Emma received an unexpected dinner invitation from Mr. West—at the same upscale club where they'd first met.
She wore a simple white evening dress, her long hair loosely pinned up with a few strands framing her face, making her delicate features even more enchanting.
Entering the club, she found it eerily quiet, devoid of other patrons.
Guards led her to the dining room, where a long table was already set with exquisite dishes. Candlelight flickered, creating an atmosphere of strange, oppressive tranquility.
The rich aroma of cigars drifted through the air.
Emma instinctively turned around to see a man in a golden mask, surrounded by black-suited bodyguards, striding toward her with measured, authoritative steps.
Emma's breath caught.
The man before her was not Nicholas!
Though similarly tall and imposing, she could sense he was older, his bearing more seasoned and calculating.
"Miss Nova, please sit." His voice had a metallic quality, completely unlike Nicholas's deep, magnetic tone.
The polite invitation carried undeniable pressure.
Unease flickered through her mind as she took a seat at the table.
Mr. West, Wesley West, settled across from her with deliberate slowness, his lips curving in a meaningful smile.
"Thank you for taking the trouble to send me medicine today, Miss Nova." He paused, snapping his fingers. "I've prepared a small token of gratitude in return."
His eyes gleamed as he studied her. This woman was more beautiful and pure than any he'd ever encountered.
A young man respectfully approached carrying a velvet jewelry box, opening it with reverence.
Inside lay a complete set of jewelry crafted from massive rubies—necklace, earrings, rings. Each stone was blood-red perfection, cut flawlessly and catching the candlelight with luxurious, dazzling brilliance.
Any connoisseur would recognize its millions-dollar value.
Surely no woman could resist such temptation.
Emma merely curved her lips politely. "Mr. West, you're too kind. This gift is far too valuable—I cannot accept it."
His smile remained unchanged as he rose slowly and moved to her side, exhaling rich smoke leisurely.
Emma frowned, instinctively trying to avoid it.
"No need to be modest." He chuckled lowly, setting down his cigar and reaching for the necklace. "Let me put this on you."
The cold metal was about to touch her skin.
Emma shot up from her chair, backing away several steps in revulsion, putting distance between them.
"Miss Nova, you truly are stunning." Wesley's voice held a note of amusement.
"You deserve the finest things in the world. If these don't please you, I could take you to my private vault for selection—absolutely mind-blowing."
Emma suppressed her discomfort and coolly pushed away his approaching hand.
"That won't be necessary, Wesley. Thank you for dinner, but I have other matters to attend to. I'll take my leave now."
She turned to go.
"Stop!"
Wesley's voice turned sharp as ice. His imposing figure moved swiftly to block her path.
His eyes flashed with sinister light. "I'm curious to see what kind of woman dares refuse me in Luminous City!"
"Honey."
Just then, a young man in a tight sequined outfit sashayed over with exaggerated feminine movements, his voice sickeningly sweet.
Wesley's attention shifted from Emma to grope the man's firm buttocks before pulling him into an embrace with practiced, lewd familiarity—quite the eyesore.
"What's so special about this woman? She's stiff as a board." The man nestled in Wesley's arms, wheedling coquettishly. "Why don't I keep you company tonight instead?"
Wesley pinched his chin, desire naked in his eyes. "Go clean yourself up properly and wait for me."
The man immediately beamed, throwing a flirtatious look before swaying away with serpentine grace.
Emma's mind raced as understanding finally dawned.
This mercurial, ruthless man was the real Mr. West!
Why had Nicholas been impersonating him before?
Where was Nicholas now?
Why had he suddenly invited her here—had something happened to Nicholas?
Her heart clenched with worry.
Suddenly, Wesley's imposing figure closed in again, his arm circling her waist with shocking force.
"Miss Nova, I hear you're capable of saving the world." His burning breath caressed her ear. "I wonder if you could save a lost man like me first?"
"Let me go!" Emma's hair stood on end as she struggled frantically.
Wasn't he only interested in men?
Wesley seemed to read her thoughts, his laughter full of mockery and malice.
"Lately, I've developed an interest in women too. Shall we give it a try?"
With that, his masked face descended toward hers, targeting her lips.
"Let me go!" Emma cried out in terror, her voice breaking with tears.
"My woman—and you dare touch her!" A voice like frost, carrying thunderous fury, suddenly cut through the air.