Chapter 107
The bodyguards dumped David in the alley behind the hospital.
He lay on the cold ground, letting the rain pound down on him. He watched Juliana and Lucas's car pull out of the hospital gates and disappear into the night.
He'd lost everything.
Just when he thought he'd be swallowed whole by the freezing rain and despair, a black umbrella suddenly appeared over his head, shielding him.
David struggled to lift his head.
Under the umbrella, Logan's face appeared, wearing that playful smirk.
"What, that's all you've got?" Logan's voice was muffled by the rain but carried an unmistakable malice. He crouched down, leaning in close to David. "Don't worry. The show's just getting started."
David looked at Logan. The mischief that used to dance in his eyes was gone, replaced by a deathly stillness burned into place by hatred.
"Want revenge?" Logan asked softly, his tone dripping with temptation. "Want to make the people who hurt you pay?"
David's throat worked. He opened his mouth but couldn't make a sound.
Logan straightened up and pulled the umbrella away. Rain splattered onto David's face again. He held out the umbrella handle, a twisted smile playing on his lips.
"Take it. Don't catch a cold." Logan said. "You're still useful."
David took the umbrella. The cold handle brought him back to his senses somewhat. He looked at Logan—this spoiled playboy he used to look down on now seemed like a chess master controlling the entire board.
"You'll help me?" David's voice was hoarse.
Logan laughed, the sound scattered by the rain, eerie and distorted.
"Of course," he said. "We're two of a kind, aren't we?"
"Even so," David's voice rasped, laced with suppressed hatred and mockery, "you'll never measure up to Lucas."
Logan's smile turned cold. "After everything, you're still this delusional."
He snatched the umbrella back from David's hand. Someone this hopeless deserved to get soaked.
……
David made it back to the hospital.
The wound on his face stung viciously from the rain.
Just then, urgent footsteps echoed from the end of the corridor. Lucas's figure appeared in view. When he saw David, he stopped dead in his tracks.
"David, the surgery failed?"
David looked at Lucas, at the "shock" in his eyes, and found it laughable. He'd shielded the Sharp family for over twenty years, and in the end, they didn't even know his face had been destroyed.
"Yeah. You found the doctor, didn't you?" David repeated, his voice dripping with bitterness. "Oh, but Mr. Sharp is so busy. Of course you wouldn't know whether someone like me lives or dies."
He pointed at his face. "This is what the Sharp family gave me. Didn't you say you'd get me the best doctor? The great CEO, ranked among the world's top, can't even hire a decent plastic surgeon?"
Lucas's brow furrowed deeply, his expression darkening. "David, I'm sorry. I didn't know this would happen. Your surgery..."
"Surgery?" David let out a cold laugh, cutting him off. "I thought you only saw me as the Sharp family's dirty glove. Turns out you want to control my life too."
He looked at Lucas, the brotherly affection that used to be there now replaced by icy accusation. "Have you thought about why the surgery failed? Why I ended up like this? Or was this part of your plan all along?"
Lucas's body jolted at those words. He looked at the dark suspicion in David's eyes, feeling something lodge in his chest.
"David, calm down. I never—"
"Calm down?" David's voice shot up, carrying the edge of a breakdown. "My biological parents are dead. Ashley used me like a tool. Now even my face is destroyed. How am I supposed to stay calm?"
"Twenty years. I thought I was part of the Sharp family. I thought I was your brother. But in the end, I was just a pawn you could sacrifice whenever you wanted."
Lucas reached out, trying to grab David, but David shook him off violently.
"Whatever we had—it's over." David looked at Lucas, speaking each word deliberately, his voice carrying absolute finality. "From now on, I have nothing to do with the Sharp family."
He picked up the bag from the bedside table, containing only a few simple items of clothing. Without even glancing at Lucas, he walked straight toward the door.
"David!" Lucas called out, trying to follow.
"Don't follow me." David didn't look back, his voice ice-cold. "Or don't blame me for what happens next."
He pushed open the door and strode out of the hospital.
Lucas stood there, watching David's retreating figure, a sharp, indescribable pain rising in his chest.
……
After the rain, the night air was thick with the smell of damp earth, diluting the hospital's usual antiseptic scent.
David dragged his heavy steps back to the Sharp family villa.
The villa was brightly lit.
"Mr. White?" A new maid saw him, confusion flickering in her eyes.
She took in the disheveled man before her—soaking wet hair covering half his face, reeking of rain and mud—nothing like the confident Mr. White she'd heard about.
Seeing him head straight for the stairs, she hesitated before calling out. "Wait—are you Mr. White? Who... who are you?"
He dug his ID card out of his soaked pocket and threw it on the floor.
The maid picked it up and looked at the photo and name. Her face went white.
In the photo, David was handsome, his eyes bright and clear—nothing like the disfigured man standing before her.
Her hands trembled.
"Mr. White?" Her voice shook with disbelief and horror.
David went to what used to be his room and started packing.
A few changes of clothes. A photo of him and Lucas from when they were younger.
He picked up the photo. In it, two carefree teenagers stood shoulder to shoulder by the ocean, as if they could walk that way forever.
He stared at his face in the photo, then touched his ruined features. His throat tightened.
He tore the photo into pieces and tossed them in the trash.
Just then, his phone rang abruptly. He glanced at the screen.
Ashley.