Chapter 303

Chapter 303
The blinding spotlights cut through the darkness, forcing Catherine's men to shield their eyes with their hands.

Dozens of police cars converged on their position, effectively trapping them in a tight circle with no escape route.

An officer's voice boomed through a megaphone: "Everyone inside, listen up! Cease all resistance and surrender immediately! Otherwise, death awaits you! Our bullets don't discriminate!"

Henry remained seated in his vehicle, watching the scene unfold with cold, calculating eyes. Not a hint of sympathy showed on his face.

Richard had also arrived but chose to remain inconspicuous, sitting in the most ordinary, least noticeable car among the fleet.

When Richard had presented the divorce papers to Catherine's family, they had questioned him incessantly: "What crime has Catherine committed that you want to divorce her? All these years, she's helped maintain your household, raised your children. Even if she deserves no credit, she's at least endured hardship. Why can't you forgive her?"

Richard had methodically detailed Catherine's numerous misdeeds, but they refused to believe him, accusing him of fabricating lies to slander her name.

Police officers moved forward, handcuffing Catherine's black-clad bodyguards and escorting them to waiting patrol cars.

Just as they approached Catherine and Isabella to place them in handcuffs, several blinding lights suddenly appeared from nowhere.

The roar of engines filled the air.

By the time everyone regained their vision, Catherine and Isabella had vanished.

Several racing motorcycles circled the scene, kicking up clouds of dust and dirt, causing everyone to lose visibility.

When officers attempted to approach and demand they stop, the motorcyclists flashed threatening grins.

Seeing the police preparing to issue warnings, they instantly sobered, revving their engines and disappearing into the night at incredible speed.

Within seconds, Catherine and Isabella had vanished into the darkness.

The rescue happened so suddenly that neither Henry nor Richard had anticipated it.

Father and son shared the same vehicle during their return journey, discussing the unexpected turn of events.

"Henry, who do you think rescued Catherine?" Richard asked from the backseat.

He hadn't managed to get a clear look at the rescuers, only catching glimpses of helmeted figures—clearly professional motorcycle racers.

Henry pondered for a moment before answering his father's question: "I couldn't see their faces, but judging by their build: it was a man, a young one, quite tall—at least six feet."

The entire incident had transpired in less than fifteen seconds, far too brief to identify anyone's features.

Richard noticed his son's self-reproach and patted his shoulder reassuringly: "Don't be so hard on yourself. I've long suspected Catherine had someone else backing her. Seeing that motorcyclist today confirms it, which is actually something positive. When we get back, I'll ask around about skilled young motorcyclists with tall builds. We might learn something useful."

Henry nodded, adding, "This person isn't just into motorcycles—he's clearly wealthy. That bike he was riding costs at least two million dollars."

Though they hadn't captured Catherine, the medication for Sophia was genuine.

After doctors administered the drug Henry had brought back, her symptoms noticeably improved, her breathing stabilized, and medical staff finally relaxed.

For the past two days, Henry hadn't gone to work, choosing instead to remain at Sophia's side. When she was awake, he sat with her, content even in silence just to be near her. When she slept, he retreated to his study to handle essential documents.

But Sophia's mental state remained alarmingly scattered, like someone suffering from severe memory loss.

One day, while working in his study, Henry received a video message on his phone.

The content showed Sophia bound to a bed, completely naked, surrounded by nude men touching her body. Despite her desperate struggles, she couldn't escape the humiliation.

Henry could only stomach the first few seconds before he had to look away.

He smashed his phone in rage.

He didn't need to guess who had sent it—this was clearly Catherine's work, deliberately trying to provoke him. He didn't know, didn't want to know, and dared not ask what Sophia had endured during her absence.

Now, seeing this footage, he could no longer maintain his composure. He wanted nothing more than to capture Catherine and peel back her skin layer by layer.

Regarding Sophia's condition, Violet finally reached a conclusion: Sophia had been injected with an illegal drug.

This substance caused severe physical harm, making patients forget important memories while causing organ failure. The drug had nearly reached the market years ago, but a renowned medical professor had presented extensive experimental data to regulatory authorities, preventing its approval. Yet somehow, someone was using it illegally.

Sophia's increasingly detached demeanor and diminishing speech were direct effects of this drug. Her memory continued deteriorating, and she frequently seemed disoriented when looking at people.

Henry asked Violet if there was an antidote, but she shook her head.

Meeting his desperate gaze, she added: "At least, to date, I haven't seen anyone develop an effective cure."

Henry offered substantial rewards to assemble a team of leading international pharmaceutical experts to research an antidote.

By June, after careful consideration, Henry made the difficult decision to transfer Sophia to a research facility staffed by these international specialists.

Her condition had deteriorated dramatically.

She now slept nearly twenty hours daily, with increasingly brief periods of consciousness. Henry understood this was the drug's progression, and without intervention, he might lose her entirely.

After lengthy deliberation, he made this choice.

As he handed Sophia over to the research facility, his hands slowly clenched into fists at his sides, veins protruding.

Before, he hadn't realized how much she meant to him—he'd only thought of her as sharp-tongued and disobedient.

Now, with her under the drug's control, docile as a puppet, he felt only profound grief, not a trace of satisfaction.

When Henry wheeled Sophia to the examination room entrance, a beautiful blonde woman emerged, flashing him a gentle smile: "Henry, is this your wife? She's beautiful!"

"Yes, this is my wife, Sophia," Henry replied.

The blonde woman took the wheelchair from him: "I can see how much you love your wife! Don't worry, I'll take excellent care of her!"

Henry adjusted Sophia's tilted posture, lifting her slightly in the chair before responding, "Thank you."

Just as the blonde woman prepared to wheel Sophia into the examination room, the semi-conscious woman suddenly murmured: "Henry Harding, I want a divorce!"

The blonde specialist's eyes widened, glancing between Henry and the seemingly asleep Sophia in confusion. "Henry, did she just say she wants to divorce you?"

Henry reached out, affectionately stroking Sophia's head while addressing the specialist: "That's because she's angry with me. I failed to keep a promise to her. Once I fulfill that promise, she'll forgive me."

After his hand left Sophia's head, a subtle smile formed in his eyes. Having delivered Sophia to the research facility, he strode away with determination in every step, his expression hardened with resolve.

Catherine, he thought. Your days of freedom are numbered.