Chapter 53 Waiting
General Richard stormed into the Richard Estate like a brewing storm, each step heavy, jaw clenched, fury radiating from him like heat off a wildfire. He had left Edward behind to secure the hospital; his own mission was different.
This was his home. His land. His territory.
And someone had dared spill his child’s blood on it.
Soldiers flooded the grounds, swarming like armed shadows under strict, merciless orders. Every servant maids, stable boys, cooks, gardeners was rounded up and held under giving their alibis. The entire hunting area was cordoned off like a crime scene of war.
Not even a leaf was allowed to move without permission.
Richard walked through the estate with his head high and his presence slicing clean through the suffocating tension.
A soldier rushed toward him.
“General!” He stopped sharply and saluted.
“Yes,” Richard cut in, voice short, clipped; he had no patience for the ceremony, it was already getting late.
The soldier swallowed. “Sir, we discovered something important. All CCTV cameras across the Estate are down. Every single one.”
Richard’s eyes snapped to him.
“In fact…” the soldier’s voice dropped, “the last recorded footage is from the 27th of May.”
Richard’s breath stilled.
The soldier continued, almost wincing, “…which, sir, was your son’s wedding day.”
Silence.
Richard’s voice sounded with disbelief. “The cameras have been down since the wedding?”
“Yes, General.”
Richard’s fists curled slowly, the tendons in his hands straining.
Someone planned this and wanted Maverick dead.
“Whoever did this,” Richard said, each syllable sharpened like a blade, “did not just shoot a soldier. They infiltrated my house. My land. My bloodline.”
He stepped forward, the air around him tightening.
“Find every technician, guard, and staff who had access to those cameras. Nobody leaves this Estate until I give the order. Not one. Person.”
“Yes, sir!”
Richard’s gaze swept across the estate calculating, murderous, cold.
He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled out the bullet, still wrapped in medical nylon. He stared at it with hatred burning in his eyes.
He was going to trace the round. He was going to find the gun. And he was going to end whoever pulled the trigger.
At the base, Richard marched straight into the Firearm & Toolmark Examination Unit the core of ballistic forensics. The room stilled the moment he entered.
“General,” the officers saluted, straightening.
Richard placed the wrapped bullet on the metal table with a hard, deliberate tap.
“I want this examined immediately,” he said, voice cold enough to freeze blood. “I want the rifle it came from. I want the owner. I want everything.”
“Yes, sir!”
Richard stood there, breathing hard, rage thrumming in his veins.
Maverick…
His son…
His last child.
Boyle was gone. And now someone had dared aim for the only son he had left.
“Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, the sound raw with pain. “They dared touch my boy.”
His jaw tightened.
This wasn’t an investigation anymore. It was personal.
General Edward lowered his phone slowly, the device hanging loosely in his hand. His expression was unreadable, too controlled, too calm, which only made the others more tense.
Major Vincent and Kiara hurried toward him the moment they saw his face. Hope flickered in their eyes, fragile and desperate.
“Have the culprit been found?” Major Vincent asked, voice tight, as if the answer determined whether he could breathe.
Edward swallowed, anger tightening his jaw.
“No,” he exhaled sharply. “Richard is at the arms identification lab. It’ll take up to twenty-four hours before they can match the bullet.”
Kiara’s face fell. Vincent cursed under his breath.
Before anyone could speak again, the doors to the operating theatre swung open.
Eva appeared first, her eyes swollen, she had cried until there were no tears left to cry. She held onto Eleanor, guiding her out gently. Behind them, Maverick was being wheeled out toward the private ward, his face pale, lips colorless, chest rising slowly with the help of tubes and machines.
Every soldier stationed for security instantly straightened, the air shifting with their alertness.
The sight of Maverick’s lifeless stillness broke something in Eleanor.
She collapsed.
“Mother!” Eva screamed as Eleanor collapsed to the floor.
Kiara rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside her. “Get a nurse! NOW!”
Doctors and nurses ran over immediately.
“Her blood pressure is crashing!”
“She’s hypertensive” Kiara told them
“Move her to the emergency bay!”
Eva sobbed, trembling violently as she watched her mother-in-law. Eleanor’s eyes fluttered weakly, her breathing uneven, her body frail from the emotional shock.
Heaven had lost all sense of time.
Minutes… hours… she didn’t know anymore.
Her mind kept looping everything like a broken film reel.. the heat of his breath when he kissed her, the way he pulled her onto his horse, his arms around her while guiding her hands on the rifle, the whisper of his voice in her ear…
And then… the crack of the gunshot, his body collapsing on her, his blood soaking her palms.
Her hands trembled now as she stared at them. The stains had dried into deep, dark red creases along her fingers.
His blood.
A soft knock, then Butler Rose stepped inside quietly, carrying a cup of warm water.
“Young miss,” she said gently, “drink this… it will calm your nerves. I’ll prepare your bath for you.”
Heaven shook her head weakly, voice cracking.
She wanted him.
Her chest tightened painfully, ribs feeling too small for the grief folding inside her.
He was the sweetness in all her bitterness. The one person who blurred her loneliness.
He had promised to make it up to. He couldn’t break that promise.
Tears spilled down her cheeks again, silent and unstoppable.
Butler Rose didn’t speak.
She simply stepped forward, set the cup aside, and wrapped her arms around Heaven holding her tightly, comforting her.
Heaven’s body shook as she buried her face into Rose’s shoulder, sobs breaking free.
Her throat burned and heart felt bruised.
“I just… want to be there when he wakes up…” she whispered, voice muffled and shattered.
But she couldn’t. She had no right to stand beside his bed.
She could only wait. And waiting felt like eternity.
Eleanor was settled in Maverick’s private room, she refused to be taken anywhere else.
She clung to his hand as if her own life depended on the warmth of his skin.
Kiara stayed close, quietly monitoring Eleanor’s vitals, while Eva sat in a chair at Maverick’s bedside.
Outside the room, the hallway felt colder.
“I should take my leave now…” Major Vincent said quietly, standing beside General Edward. It was already deep into the night; the corridors hummed with low hospital lights.
Edward nodded once.
But just as Vincent turned to go, Edward’s voice cut through the dim hall.
“You were the last person to arrive at the hospital today.”
His tone was casual. “What did you kill?”
Vincent froze. His shoulders locked, breath catching for a split second before he forced a small laugh.
“Uhh… I wasn’t able to kill anything,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.
“No luck today.” He smiled nervously, strained and walked away quickly.
Edward’s eyes followed him… unblinking.
Tracking every step until Vincent disappeared around the corner.
Outside the hospital entrance, Vincent finally exhaled sharply, shoulders sagging.
He reached into his pocket. It‘s empty. His face drained of color.
He checked the other pocket, his jacket, his chest, his belt pouch.
Nothing.
“…fuck,” he muttered under his breath, panic sparking in his eyes.
Something was missing