Chapter 197

Chapter 197

Molly's tone was final, completely unconcerned with Dwayne's increasingly dark expression.

"You insolent brat!" Dwayne slammed the table. "Do you have any respect for me as your father?"

Molly could barely believe what she was hearing. Her lips curved sardonically. "If you actually treated me like family, you wouldn't be doing this. Dwayne, have you ever once cared about my feelings? The day you married Celeste, our relationship ended!"

Memories drifted up like smoke, layer upon layer of pain spreading through her chest.

Molly drew in a sharp breath, forcing her voice to remain steady.

She'd once longed for her father's affection. What she'd received instead was silent harm.

Some scars, when reopened, bled just as fresh as the day they were made.

"Then you're no daughter of mine! We're done—consider our relationship severed!" Dwayne declared with a sweeping gesture.

"Dwayne, don't lose your temper with the girl. She's never liked me—that's hardly news."

Celeste's voice drifted over, deliberately soft and plaintive.

Even now, she couldn't resist whispering poison in his ear.

"Shut up!" Molly snapped, her gaze turning glacial. "You're no saint either. Don't think I don't know what you've been doing."

Celeste's face flashed with displeasure. "Molly, speaking to me like that is completely unacceptable. If you've turned out this way, I suppose I've failed as a stepmother."

Molly's eyes turned to ice. "Are you actually proud of being a homewrecker?"

"You—" Celeste's eyes widened in fury, the words dying in her throat.

"Oh, and speaking of which," Molly continued coolly, "I didn't come empty-handed. I brought good news."

Celeste froze, then smoothed her furrowed brow, a flicker of hope crossing her face. "What good news?"

She assumed Molly had come to her senses.

After all, Dwayne was her only father.

As they spoke, the doorbell rang.

Without a word, Molly walked to the door and opened it. Several police officers stood on the threshold.

Celeste's face drained of color. "What are you doing?"

Molly ignored the shock and panic in her eyes, stepping aside and nodding to the lead officer.

He entered the living room and produced his badge. "Mrs. Celeste Johnson, we've received a report that you've been illegally selling antiques. You're suspected of theft and need to come with us."

The words rang out like a hammer blow.

Celeste's pupils trembled. She stumbled backward, disbelief written across her face. "Molly… you actually called the police?"

She turned to the officers with a forced smile. "Officers, this is all a misunderstanding. This is a family matter—we can handle it ourselves."

She'd thought Molly was bluffing. Operating on the principle of delay, she'd dragged things out for weeks without returning the stolen items.

Dwayne was stunned and furious. He turned to Molly. "Molly, she's your mother. How could you do this?"

"My mother?" Molly laughed coldly. "My mother is dead. She's a thief."

Dwayne opened his mouth to argue, but Molly had already moved on.

She looked at the officers. They nodded and signaled their colleagues to step forward.

A moment later, silver handcuffs gleamed on Celeste's wrists.

"Save it for the judge," Molly said, turning away without another glance.

"Dwayne, help me!" Celeste's cries rang through the villa, mingling with Dwayne's continuous stream of curses.

Molly paid no attention. She simply watched, expressionless, as Celeste was hauled away in disgrace.

"Molly! You're going to be the death of me!" Dwayne clutched at his chest.

Only when the cries faded beyond the door did he realize there was no turning back. He staggered, gripping the back of the sofa for support.

"Molly, are you trying to destroy this family?" His voice shook with rage. "Have you lost your mind? Over some dusty old antiques? Are you trying to kill me?"

"If I could, I would," Molly replied flatly. "Consider it payback for what you did to my mother."

At the mention of her mother, a faint shadow of grief flickered in her eyes—then vanished.

When she looked back at Dwayne, her expression hardened into defiance.

Then, as if something occurred to her, her lips curved into a cold smile. "Don't worry—Celeste won't be lonely. She'll have company in jail."

Dwayne's eyelid twitched. A sense of foreboding washed over him.

"What do you mean?"

"Your other precious daughter, of course. Clara." Molly spoke each word clearly, precisely. "This afternoon, she showed up at my office and caused a scene. The police took her away too. Mother and daughter should be reunited in the holding cell by now."

"You little bitch!" He pointed at her, his face flushing crimson, veins bulging at his temples.

The words stuck in his throat. His body convulsed several times.

The next second, Dwayne's eyes flew wide open. His body went rigid, and he toppled backward.

He hit the floor with a heavy thud, unconscious.

The housekeeper screamed.

Molly's face changed. She hurried to his side.

Dwayne lay motionless, eyes closed.

The ambulance arrived quickly, sirens wailing. Paramedics loaded him onto a stretcher and began emergency treatment.

Molly gave the housekeeper a few instructions, then followed them to the hospital.

Dwayne's collapse had been sudden. He was taken straight to the emergency room.

Molly stood guard outside, drowsiness creeping over her.

Just as she was about to nod off, the emergency room doors swung open. A doctor emerged, pulling down his mask.

Dwayne was wheeled out on a gurney. His face was ashen, his breathing shallow.

"How is he?"

"The patient suffered emotional distress, which caused insufficient blood flow to the brain and led to unconsciousness. His condition has stabilized for now, but we'll need to monitor him for a few days and run a full battery of tests."

Molly nodded.

The doctor hesitated, then produced a file. "By the way, this is Mr. Johnson's health report. His overall condition is… concerning. Not only does he have poor cardiac perfusion, but he also suffers from severe oligospermia."

Oligospermia?

At the diagnosis, Molly visibly froze. Her expression grew complicated.