Chapter 129: The Secret Sabotage of Mrs. Dawson

Grace easily obtained Vivian's sample and handed two samples over to her private physician. Soon, the results were out, and the report confirmed the parent-child relationship between Vivian and Jane.

"Could there be any mistake in the results?" Grace asked, taking a glance at the report, still not reassured.

"Madam, our equipment is infallible," the private physician replied with a smile, firmly denying any possibility of error.

As expected, just as Jane had said, Vivian was indeed her biological daughter. Recalling Jane's vulgar appearance, a cold sneer tugged at the corner of Grace's mouth.

"Madam, we have found out everything," the secretary suddenly entered, holding a manila envelope. Grace had asked her to investigate her personal information, and she had quickly uncovered the details.

Grace took the envelope, opened it, and her expression gradually became complicated as she looked through the contents.

Jane had a son suffering from leukemia, whose condition had recently worsened, and he was in urgent need of a bone marrow transplant. If Grace remembered correctly, Jane had mentioned giving birth to twins. So, Vivian must have a twin brother?

"Madam, if they are fraternal twins, a bone marrow transplant between them is possible," the secretary quietly reminded her.

This statement immediately enlightened Grace. Indeed, Jane must be looking for Vivian now to have her cooperate with the bone marrow transplant to save her son's life.

Grace inwardly sneered. Even a tiger does not eat its own cub, yet this woman was truly heartless. She put on a show of searching for her daughter in public, portraying herself as a sorrowful mother, but secretly had ulterior motives.

Vivian, oh Vivian, should I help you keep this a secret?

Grace's expression became enigmatic. The information in her hands told her that Jane was no simple character. Despite her coarse and vulgar demeanor, she possessed some wealth. She had been searching everywhere, spending a considerable amount of money on her son's illness, but to no avail.

In summary, this was a woman who favored her son over her daughter, to the core, and was unscrupulous in her actions.

If Vivian fell into the hands of such a woman, tsk, tsk, tsk, Grace's lips curled up, and she had a rough idea of what might happen.

...

Night fell, as silent as death.

In the darkness, a dark figure flashed by. The door to Mrs. Dawson's room suddenly swung open, creaking in the still air.

The room was pitch black, and the nurses and doctors who were on watch had gone back to rest. Mrs. Dawson was alone in the room.

Mrs. Dawson was covered with a thick blanket, lying in bed as usual, her eyes tightly shut, a breathing tube inserted into her nose, her body barely breathing.

Just two days ago, Mrs. Dawson's eyes had suddenly opened for a moment, responding to a piece of music playing in the room. This was witnessed by the nurse who was changing her dressing. Excitedly, the nurse ran outside and immediately reported the incident to Mr. Dawson. Mr. Dawson was shocked and promptly called the doctor to conduct a full systemic examination on Mrs. Dawson. The results were thrilling.

The doctor stated that Mrs. Dawson's vital signs had miraculously returned to normal, and there was hope that she would wake up completely within the next few days!

Thinking of this, Vivian's throat involuntarily moved. Looking at her mother on the bed, she suddenly hesitated for a moment. This was the mother who had raised her as her own daughter, a living, breathing life...

But immediately, a much stronger voice in her heart told her not to, absolutely not to be merciful. Vivian, you've already made a mistake once, what's one more?

Thus, she slowly approached the bedside, quietly holding a sharp, poisonous needle in her hand.

"Mom, don't blame me. If you must blame someone, blame yourself for knowing too much. The first time I pushed you, you were lucky to survive, but this time, it won't be the same... If we're fated in the next life, let's be mother and daughter again, or perhaps, just don't have any more entanglements."

After muttering these words to herself, she still closed her eyes out of fear, not daring to look at the woman on the bed. In the end, she silently counted down from three, and at the count of zero, the slender poison needle in her hand was about to be brutally inserted into the woman's brain.

In an instant, a burst of white light flashed, abruptly pulling her from her thoughts back to reality.

The room light suddenly turned on, and at this very moment, her wrist was firmly grasped by the person on the bed.

And when she saw who was on the bed, Vivian could hardly believe her eyes—it was not Mrs. Dawson at all—

It was Ryan, it was actually Ryan!

Ryan grabbed her wrist, coldly staring at her and asked, "What do you think you're doing?"

From behind came the sound of something falling to the ground. Mr. Dawson was seen with one hand leaning on the door frame, the other hand tightly clutching his chest, his eyes widened in disbelief at the scene before him.

"You..." Mr. Dawson managed to utter only this one word, then took a heavy breath, struggling to say, "You actually wanted your own mother to die?"

"Dad... it's not like that, it's not what you think, listen to me, please listen to me!" Vivian panicked, tripping and falling to the ground, scrambling to get up and move towards Mr. Dawson. Mr. Dawson looked at her in horror as she approached, pointing at her with one hand, at this moment, she was still holding the silver needle intended to harm Mrs. Dawson.

It was only when Mr. Dawson pointed that she realized what was in her hand, and in fright, she let go, the silver needle falling to the floor.

However, everything was already beyond explanation. There were witnesses and evidence, all clearly pointing to her—the one who attempted to harm Mrs. Dawson tonight.

"Vivian, I never expected it to be you. How could you do this? That's the mother who raised you for over twenty years," Ava was also too angry to speak, relieved that Mrs. Dawson had already been moved to a safe place by them, otherwise the consequences would have been unimaginable.

"I didn't! I didn't, I just came in to check on Mom, is that a crime?" Vivian shook her head vigorously, making a last-ditch effort to defend herself.

"Enough," Ryan interrupted her in a deep voice, then he took step by step towards her, suddenly grabbing her wrist, "So late at night, you come to see her with a needle in your hand? And you even tried to use it on me just now, the direction of your hand was towards my head, wasn't it?"

With that, Ryan coldly released her hand, bent down to pick up the silver needle from the floor, carefully lifting it. The tip of the silver needle gleamed darkly under the light.

"What a venomous mind, there must be some secrets on this needle, right?"

Vivian was speechless for a moment, scared and regretfully backing away a few steps, "What are you talking about, I didn't!"

"Whether there is or not, we can find out by sending it for testing," at this moment, not far away, Mr. Dawson's sorrowful voice suddenly trembled, his gaze fixed on his former daughter, asking in a tone of disbelief,

"Did you really mean what you just said?"

By "just now," Mr. Dawson referred to the words Vivian had spoken before attempting to harm Mrs. Dawson, especially the phrase "the first time I pushed you, you were lucky to survive." The moment she uttered these words, Mr. Dawson's heart completely shattered.

He could never have imagined that he would hear such words from Vivian's own mouth—his daughter, whom he and his wife had doted on since she was a child, the daughter who always appeared gentle, quiet, and well-mannered in front of others!

"You said you pushed your mother, didn't you?"

Seeing her silence, Mr. Dawson asked again, his voice heavy with a sense of unfamiliarity and alienation that Vivian had never seen before. "How could you have such a poisonous heart? Your mother loved you so much, and you wanted her dead?"

"Dad, it's not me, listen to me, I was just..."

"No more," Mr. Dawson waved his hand, not wanting to hear any more. He pounded his chest heavily, muttering "sinned" several times. Finally, after a long silence, he looked up at Ryan and said, "Call the police."