Chapter 147 Arabella, You Won
Alexander's expression shifted. "Is there a doctor involved?"
His new assistant was a recently transferred acting presidential aide named Moris Brown. Though Roy had taught him a lot before leaving, he hadn't yet developed Roy's ability to think ahead. After a pause, he replied somewhat sheepishly, "We don't have the full picture yet. We've only traced it back to this hospital."
Alexander frowned slightly but didn't give the young man a hard time. "Once you've got solid answers, send me the file. Also, have Roy complete his handover. Keep his position open for a year. If he doesn't pass the evaluation after that, promote someone from the office to replace him."
Moris quickly said, "Got it. I'll let him know."
He knew Roy had worked for Mr. FitzRoy for years. This transfer might technically be a punishment, but it was also a kind of training and credentialing. When Roy returned, barring any surprises, he'd get promoted. If Moris got lucky, maybe he could take over Roy's position. Even if not, having a year of this experience would earn him a solid placement in the company.
After hanging up, Alexander stood by the window for a while, his brow furrowed tight.
Did Grandfather's death have something to do with this hospital?
He'd already had people thoroughly investigate every hospital in Majestic City, but there were no admission records anywhere. He'd suspected records might have been erased, just hadn't expected them to be wiped this clean.
If the previous investigation was correct, then Grandfather had been in contact with Arabella's parents in Majestic City. Though he didn't know why, Grandfather and the Bourbon family had suffered incidents one after another—could there really be no connection?
If Grandfather had his incident at this hospital, then when Arabella's family got in that car accident, were they brought here too?
What exactly had caused so many incidents three years ago? And who was behind it all?
He stood by the window for a long time. When he returned to the hospital room, the heavy weight had completely vanished from his face. In front of Arabella, he was all smiles again. "You must be starving. Had some work stuff come up—dealt with it real quick."
As he spoke, he opened the takeout containers, revealing the dishes he'd picked up on the way—all her favorites.
He raised the hospital bed slightly as usual and personally brought the food to her lips. Arabella felt somewhat flustered. "My right hand is fine, and the scrapes have healed. I can feed myself..."
Alexander kept a straight face. "Eating one-handed can pull at your wounds. Better let me help."
Arabella blinked. Would eating one-handed really affect her injuries? That seemed like a stretch.
Still, these past few days while he'd been gone, Daisy had indeed been feeding her. She hadn't tried eating on her own yet.
Uncertain about his claim but faced with Alexander's determination, Arabella obediently opened her mouth.
He leaned in closer, his elegant fingers holding the fork looking almost artistic. As a bite of food entered her mouth, the back of his hand accidentally brushed her chin. Arabella's face immediately flushed.
Her heart felt nervous and chaotic, but also... sweetly fluttering.
The atmosphere grew somewhat ambiguous yet oddly stilted at the same time.
She caught Alexander's clean scent and her breathing turned erratic. She hurriedly pretended nothing was happening and started chewing, nearly biting her own cheek in the process.
By the time they finished eating, Daisy called. "Arabella, did Becky get picked up okay?"
Arabella had told her that afternoon that Alexander was back and she didn't need to pick up Becky anymore. But after several days of pickups, Daisy had gotten close to the kid. Suddenly not being needed felt weirdly off.
"Yeah, she's back," Arabella said with a smile. "Come visit her when you have time."
Daisy sighed heavily. "Now that I'm back on set, I won't have a chance to sneak away for a while. Gotta make up for all that lost time."
After wallowing for a moment, her spirits lifted and she asked eagerly, "So how are things with you and Mr. FitzRoy? Any absence-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder action going on?"
Arabella's ears turned red. "Don't talk nonsense." She asked with some curiosity, "Why do you always call Alex 'Mr. FitzRoy'?"
Daisy was momentarily speechless. How could she explain that?
She'd just caught herself in time and switched to calling him Mr. FitzRoy.
She definitely didn't dare say that out loud. She'd swear on her career—she really hadn't meant to slip up!
"I just... want to." Daisy laughed awkwardly and brushed it off.
"Fair enough." Arabella had just been momentarily curious and didn't think much of it, since Daisy had always been pretty casual with how she addressed people.
After hanging up, she realized Alexander had been watching her the whole time. His gaze was deep and intent. When he looked at someone so quietly like this, it seemed incredibly affectionate. Arabella's heart skipped a beat. She pretended nonchalance. "Why are you staring at me?"
She had no idea how long he'd been looking.
Alexander snapped out of it and looked away, his expression unchanged. "I was about to tell you there's something on your..."
He leaned over, his thumb gently brushing the corner of her mouth. He smiled. "A bit of vegetable."
Arabella watched him quickly grab a tissue and wipe his thumb. She didn't actually see any vegetable on it, but he wouldn't lie to her, right? She replied sheepishly, "Didn't notice."
Getting caught with food on your face in front of someone you like was pretty embarrassing.
Alexander was actually exhausted. He'd flown back from Riverland and rushed straight to the hospital, only stepping away to pick up Becky and grab food. Even during the time he'd spent with Arabella, he'd been handling work. Even an iron constitution couldn't withstand this level of fatigue.
But when he was with her, he just couldn't bring himself to rest.
Finally, Arabella noticed the weariness he couldn't quite hide in his eyes. After much coaxing, she convinced him to wash up and get some sleep.
After Becky finished her homework and played for a bit, she went to bed too.
Arabella checked the time—almost ten. Just as she was about to turn off the lights and sleep, her phone suddenly lit up with a text from an unknown number.
Just one sentence: [Arabella, I admit it. You won.]
She stared at the message, completely baffled. Looking at the out-of-state area code, she figured it must be a wrong number.
She didn't give it another thought, tossed her phone aside, and quickly fell asleep.
[Arabella, I admit it. You won.]
In a pitch-black mansion, Cassidy knelt at a table, her face ghostly pale in the faint glow of her phone screen.
In front of her lay divorce papers.
Anthony had delivered them that afternoon.
When she'd first replaced Arabella, she'd seen the divorce agreement between Anthony and Arabella. Anthony had drafted that one, stipulating two houses in the city center, rental income from a shopping mall, two expensive cars, and some company dividends for Arabella.
Roughly calculated, it was worth at least ten million dollars.
But Arabella hadn't signed that agreement. She'd chosen to leave with nothing.
Just walked away so decisively from money, status, and the man she'd deeply loved.
At one time, Cassidy had felt like the victor. She'd not only stolen the man but had also thrown Arabella out with nothing to her name.
But now Anthony wanted to divorce her, and the agreement stated she had to leave with nothing.
From marriage to now—barely three months. She hadn't even lasted as long as Arabella's two years.
Anthony claimed he loved her most, but when divorcing, he wouldn't give her a single cent.
He'd beaten and verbally abused her, yet during his two years married to Arabella, he'd never laid a hand on her.
She'd thought she had Anthony figured out, but only now did she realize she'd never understood this man at all.
If he was so disgusted by her being violated by other men, why had he gone to such lengths to take her back from Sawyer? He'd tortured her in every way imaginable, and now he was discarding her anyway.
She'd signed that divorce agreement this afternoon. She hadn't wanted to, but Anthony had held a knife to her hand like a demon, carving into her skin. Blood had dripped down drop by drop. She understood—he was cutting her hand, but warning her about her life.
Whether or not she signed wasn't her choice.
If she wanted to stay alive, signing wasn't optional.
But she couldn't accept it. Everything she'd worked so hard to get was just... gone. Meanwhile, Arabella had given up everything Anthony offered, turned around and was living happily with another man, and the Anthony she'd abandoned still couldn't forget her.
Why? How was that fair?
So Cassidy had deliberately sent that text to Arabella.
She figured given how deeply Arabella had once loved Anthony, seeing this message would make her realize who'd sent it.
What would Arabella think? Now that she'd admitted defeat, would Arabella go back to Anthony? If she did, her current husband definitely wouldn't want her anymore.
Anthony didn't value things that came too easily. By then, Arabella would realize she'd thrown away a watermelon to pick up a sesame seed. A violent man like Anthony definitely wouldn't tolerate her having been with another man. He'd probably beat and humiliate her too.
Just like he was doing to Cassidy now.
Thinking about it, Cassidy actually felt a thrill of excitement. She was genuinely looking forward to seeing Arabella's downfall.
Right—only when Arabella was as miserable as she was could she feel at peace.
Cassidy grabbed the divorce papers from the table and shakily stood up, turning to head upstairs to pack.
Anthony had given her three days to move out.
She had a lot of stuff. She needed to hurry.
She couldn't move back in with her parents. They were renting too—a tiny place. Bentley had one bedroom, her parents had another, and the study was Bentley's gaming room. There was literally no space for her, and she wouldn't stoop to living in that cramped apartment anyway.
She needed to rent somewhere bigger. All those haute couture gowns in her closet needed to be properly hung, and those bags and shoes needed a dedicated room too.
While Anthony hadn't given her money in the divorce, during these months with him, she'd pocketed plenty of spending money. Roughly calculated, she had at least a hundred thousand—enough to support her lifestyle temporarily.
Next, she could ask Sawyer for help. Whether finding a new target or gauging Sawyer's attitude, she had enough time.
Just as she sat on the bed sorting through things and making plans, her phone rang.
Her mother's voice came through sharp and terrified. "Cassie, get here now! Something happened to Bentley! Hurry!"
Cassidy froze, her heart clenching tight. "What happened to Bentley?"
Bentley was her parents' only son, the family's future pillar. She was just a girl. No matter where she married, her brother was ultimately the root of her family. If something happened to Bentley, what would happen to her and her parents?
Her mother's voice sounded like she was crying blood. "He got beaten up. They... they cut off his penis! Get here now!"
Cassidy shot to her feet, gripping her phone. "Mom, I'm coming right now!"
She frantically grabbed her purse. When leaving, she didn't dare take a car from the mansion, instead running out in her heels. But of course there were no taxis near a gated community. She ran out of the complex and kept running until she finally reached a busier area where she could hail a ride to the hospital.
By the time she arrived, Bentley was already in the emergency room having surgery. Her mother told her in anguish, "No one knows who did it. Bentley's classmates said it was people from outside school coming for revenge. But my Bentley is so well-behaved—how could he have provoked gang members? They beat my son like that..."
Her mother was crying her heart out. "The doctor said we brought him in too late. His manhood can't be reattached. They'll do their best to save him, but my Bentley... what's he going to do now? What will our family do?"
Cassidy's vision went black.
Her parents favored sons over daughters, and she'd been unconsciously brainwashed by that mindset. She too believed Bentley was the Sanders family's heir. Deep down, she felt that if something happened to Bentley, the Sanders family was finished.
"Mom, who did this? Did they find anyone?" After recovering for a moment, Cassidy asked.
Her mother shook her head, crying. "After we called the police, they caught a few kids—all from his school. They said they gave directions to the gang, but the gang members haven't been caught yet."
"Gave directions?" Cassidy's eyes went cold. "Those kids were let go?"
Her mother glanced at her and said irritably, "What else could they do? This is all your fault for being useless! If you'd taken care of Anthony properly, would this be so hard to deal with now? You had to make such a mess of things! What's the point of having a daughter like you?"
She didn't know yet that Anthony had thrown Cassidy out. She only knew Cassidy hadn't been doing well with Anthony lately—Cassidy had refused to give her money several times.
Hearing her mother's complaints, Cassidy pressed her lips together and didn't dare say anything. After a while, she asked, "Who gave the gang directions?"
Her mother replied impatiently, "There was one called... what was it... Daniel, I think? Your brother's in there between life and death and you keep asking about this stuff?"
Hearing the name "Daniel," Cassidy's eyes went ice cold. "Daniel?"
Her mother's tone was harsh. "Why do you keep asking about useless—" She looked up and saw Cassidy's expression. She instinctively swallowed, still somewhat intimidated by this strong-willed daughter, especially since she'd married someone as unreachable as Anthony...
She finally answered, "I think that was the name."