Chapter 165 Do Not Forget Emma
The door to Sheryl's house in Novaria's River City exploded inward with a thunderous crash.
The violent sound sent her heart into cardiac arrest.
Matthew stormed in with his men behind him.
He wore an immaculate black suit that hugged his broad shoulders and lean waist with devastating precision, radiating an aura of menace.
Sheryl felt a chill of dread creep up her spine at the sight of him.
Matthew's gaze dropped to her belly, his eyes cold as arctic ice.
His voice cut through the air like a blade. "You're pregnant. You didn't take the pills."
Sheryl instinctively stepped back, hands protective over her abdomen, shaking her head frantically. "No, I'm not! I did take them!"
"Take her to the hospital. Terminate it." Matthew's tone brooked no argument, cold as winter frost.
Two black-suited bodyguards stepped forward without expression, seizing her arms.
Sheryl screamed in terror.
"Matthew, what are you doing! Let me go—this is my baby!"
Matthew approached with predatory steps, his long fingers gripping her chin brutally, forcing her to meet his eyes.
"You don't have the right to carry my child."
"Take her."
Sheryl fought like a caged animal, using every limb to struggle against their grip.
She sobbed desperately. "Matthew, please, I'm begging you—let me go and I promise I'll disappear forever! I'll never bother you again!"
She no longer called him by the intimate name from their past. Now it was just Matthew.
His only response was ice-cold, "Move her."
Sheryl summoned every ounce of strength, breaking free from one bodyguard's hold.
Her body lost balance.
In the violent struggle, her abdomen slammed hard against the sharp corner of a solid wood table.
"Ahh—"
Agony tore through her. Between her legs, warm liquid gushed forth.
Blood instantly stained her light-colored pants, trickling down her thighs and dripping onto the floor in a horrifying crimson trail.
She slid down the wall to the ground, curling up in pain, her face paper-white.
She lifted her head, staring at Matthew with burning hatred.
"Matthew, you're a monster! Whether it's people who love you or people you love—you destroy them all!"
The next second, she began laughing maniacally, the sound shrill and desperate, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Do you know why Emma doesn't love you?"
Her voice carried the metallic taste of blood, each word a hammer blow.
"Because you only love yourself!"
"You don't understand what love is! You don't deserve to be with her!"
"If she really dies, it'll be because you drove her to it! You'll regret this forever! You deserve to suffer!"
His heart felt like it had been struck by a sledgehammer, shattering into bloody fragments.
She struggled to her feet, muttering to herself.
"Emma... I should have listened to you... should have left him..."
"I was wrong... I'll never... love him again..."
She stumbled toward the door, blood painting the floor beneath her, trailing from her legs in a grotesque crimson path.
That shocking red slashed through Matthew's vision like a blade.
Just as her eyes rolled back and she collapsed completely, he lunged forward.
This accident would rob her of motherhood forever. For the next fifty years, Matthew would spend every day atoning for this moment...
---
Snow fell like madness over Luminous City, entombing the entire metropolis in ice.
Emma and Charlie's car crawled through the blizzard at a snail's pace, finally reaching the mountain villa where Nicholas was hiding.
At dawn, Nicholas had returned from somewhere, immediately coughing up blood.
He couldn't remember what he'd experienced these past two days, no matter how desperately he tried.
Now he sat in his wheelchair by the entrance, cradling a pot of blooming green lilies.
His empty eyes stared at the snowy landscape ahead.
Though he saw only endless darkness, his expression was that of someone admiring sublime beauty.
He could smell the flowers in his arms—a familiar scent that brought him strange peace.
It had been four days. His body was completely destroyed.
His memory lay in tatters, his bodily functions deteriorating, held together only by sheer will.
Emma stumbled from the car and rushed toward him.
When she reached him, she didn't dare call out, afraid of startling him.
She could hear him muttering continuously.
"Can't forget Emma... mustn't forget Emma..."
"She's Emma, my Emma..."
She reached out, gently grasping his ice-cold hand.
The next second, he shoved her away violently.
"Who?" he roared, agitated. "Get away!"
Charlie stepped forward quickly. "Mr. Harrison, Mrs. Harrison is here to see you."
"Mrs. Harrison?" He frowned deeply, eyes full of confusion. "Mrs. Harrison... who's that?"
He couldn't remember, yet fought desperately to recall.
Emma's heart shattered seeing him like this, her eyes immediately filling with tears.
A nearby bodyguard murmured, "Mr. Harrison hasn't eaten anything in a day."
Emma ran straight to the kitchen, quickly preparing a steaming bowl of noodles and carrying it to him carefully.
He caught the aroma of food but simply turned his head away, refusing to eat.
Because he couldn't taste anything.
"Stay away from me! Get lost!" he roared again, voice hoarse.
She approached slowly, crouching before him with every ounce of tenderness she possessed.
Her voice was soft, carrying healing power. "Nicholas, I'm Emma. It's Emma."
"Don't be afraid. I won't hurt you."
Nicholas trembled violently.
He spun around excitedly, desperately grasping her hand, but got burned by the hot bowl.
Charlie quickly stepped forward to take it.
But his excitement lasted barely three seconds before his expression turned vicious.
Suddenly his other hand shot out, gripping her throat in a strangling hold!
"You're not Emma! You're not her! She doesn't want me anymore."
"You're not her."
"Mr. Harrison!" Charlie and the bodyguard rushed forward to pull him off.
In the struggle, Nicholas's body swayed violently.
He suddenly spewed a mouthful of blood, then toppled straight from his wheelchair to the ground.
The blood from his mouth instantly stained the snow beneath him crimson.
Emma broke free, coughing and choking, tears nearly spilling over.
"Mr. Harrison, Mr. Harrison." Several people scrambled to help him up.
He snarled, "Don't touch me, all of you get away..."
He lay flat in the snow, vacant eyes staring at the sky as delicate snowflakes settled on his handsome face, melting into bone-chilling water that seemed ready to bury him alive.
Emma ran into the house like a madwoman.
She grabbed a fruit knife from the coffee table and rushed back out. The bodyguards immediately went on alert. "Mrs. Harrison, don't do anything rash."
They actually thought she meant to hurt him.
"All of you back off," Charlie snapped. The three bodyguards slowly retreated.
Emma positioned the blade five centimeters up from her wrist and sliced without hesitation.
A wound opened.
Blood ran down her wrist, drop by drop, falling into his slightly parted lips.
He tasted that familiar flavor, and his agitated body finally began to calm.
Snow continued falling, blood continued dripping, as she used the last of her strength to sustain his life...
Charlie watched this heartbreaking scene, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face as he quickly turned and walked toward the house.
In the forest, another pair of eyes watched it all, recording everything.
After a long while, she finally dropped the knife. Charlie immediately sprinkled prepared styptic powder on her wound and quickly wrapped it with gauze.
Emma lifted him from the snow, using all her remaining strength to hold him tightly in her arms.
Her eyes were red-rimmed.
The blood from his lips stained her neck, forming a crimson bloom.
The familiar lily scent from her body filled his nostrils.
After a long time, he finally whispered weakly, "Emma, is that you?"