Chapter 107 Chapter 107
Escape is never easy.
Grace slipped out the back door of the hotel with Adrian and crossed a narrow street to reach his car, which was just a few steps away. Once inside the car, Adrian handed her a bulging backpack, saying, "I packed a few things ahead of time. See if anything will be useful.”
She unzipped the backpack and found two wigs on top. Below those were a heavy makeup case and several plain-looking garments.
Without exchanging any words, Grace efficiently changed into the clothes from the backpack and slipped on the chestnut-brown wig. Only then did she ask Adrian, "How are things with Mom and Dad?"
The situation remained tense, yet with Grace by his side, Adrian couldn't help but let a hint of a smile touch his lips. "Don't worry, Grace. I've taken care of everything. We'll see them shortly."
He'd contacted the hospital immediately after Grace's call. The Hills should arrive at the rendezvous point before they did. Sure enough, as soon as their car left the city limits, they spotted the minivan they would be riding in waiting by the roadside.
Mr. Hill, having been exposed to the neurotoxin for too long, remained unresponsive despite receiving the antidote. He could barely speak clearly and lay in the backseat. Mrs. Hill, unaware of the situation, still didn't understand what had happened. Seeing Grace pull open the door and rush in, Mrs. Hill grabbed her daughter urgently and asked, "Grace, what on earth is going on?" Grace's eyes welled up. Too distraught to answer her mother, she rushed to her father, who looked noticeably thinner. Scanning him from head to toe, she asked, "Dad, how are you?"
He didn't answer immediately. His expression was stern. After studying his daughter for a long moment, he spoke slowly, enunciating each word carefully: “If Adrian hadn’t told me, would you have kept this secret until you died?”
Grace opened her mouth but found no words, only tears.
He continued, "Grace, we are your parents, and you are our only daughter. Your concealment and deception were meant to spare us worry. Have you ever considered how we feel upon learning the truth?"
"Dad, I'm sorry." Grace choked back sobs, threw herself into her father's arms, and wept. After a long moment, Mr. Hill's hand rose slowly and rested on his daughter's head. His voice was both angry and heartbroken as he scolded her, "You foolish girl! Do you think your father is so useless that I can't protect my own daughter?"
Mrs. Hill, already puzzled, was now completely bewildered. Her impatience boiled over. "What on earth happened? Why did you both keep this from me? Are you trying to drive me to an early grave?"
Outside the car, Adrian handed the driver a thick wad of cash, dismissed him, and pulled open the door, sliding into the driver's seat. Glancing back at Mr. Hill to ensure he was unharmed, he turned his attention to Mrs. Hill, offering a few soothing words before finally addressing Grace. "We need to hurry," he said. "We have to get to a place where that bastard can't find us before he recovers."
Hearing this, they both turned to look at Adrian. Grace pressed further. “What kind of drug did you use? How long does it last?”
Adrian replied, “It’s a neurotoxin extracted from a venomous spider. Without an antidote, the symptoms won't gradually subside for seventy-two hours."
If they could buy three days, that would be enough time to flee. Grace felt slightly reassured, but Mr. Hill considered the situation more thoroughly. "That drug doesn't cause unconsciousness. If Benjamin is discovered by his men and taken to the hospital, doctors might find an antidote before three days are up with his cooperation.”
His prediction proved more accurate. Benjamin didn't wait seventy-two hours. By the second night, he had been injected with the antidote and had recovered.
This was partly thanks to the world-renowned neurosurgeon originally hired for Mr. Hill. Though Benjamin couldn't speak, he could blink, enabling him to respond to the doctors' questions correctly and effectively.
As the antidote coursed through his veins, his body gradually regained sensation. The moment he could speak, he commanded Michael, who had just arrived, "Find her."
However, nearly two days had passed since Grace's departure. Finding her now would be no simple task. Benjamin remained in Canada for two weeks, contacting the police and reaching out to the underworld. He exhausted every resource at his disposal. He searched not only Ottawa, but also every nearby town, yet he found not a single trace of Grace.
On the fifteenth day, Vito flew into Canada, sent by Old Norman to retrieve Benjamin. Vito had always looked down on his cousin, and now, seeing him driven mad over a woman, his disdain was clear. He sneered, "Alex, could you be any more pathetic? No wonder uncle refused to take you in. Someone like you doesn't deserve the Norman name."
In just half a month, Benjamin seemed to have shrunk a size. Leaning against the broad walnut desk with a cigarette dangling between his fingers, he looked up at Vito and asked flatly, "What did you say? Say it again.”
Vito flinched under Benjamin's icy, sharp gaze and hesitated to repeat himself. Instead, he gave a cold chuckle and changed the subject. "You've only ever been with one woman in your life? I'm curious—was she really that special, the kind you can't forget?"
Benjamin didn't answer. He stared at Vito coldly for a moment, then straightened and began walking toward him. Alarm bells rang in Vito's mind. He instinctively tried to step back, but before he could move, Benjamin's arm shot forward. His hand clamped down on Vito's throat like iron pincers.
Benjamin's face remained impassive as he said, "Vito, you know I'm not Benjamin. I'm not your good cousin. So don't provoke me anymore. This is my final warning. You'd better remember it. Otherwise, I won't hesitate to kill you right here."
Vito's face flushed crimson. He gasped for air, unable to utter a sound.
He struggled desperately, but his neck felt clamped in an iron vise; it was immovable.
Worse yet, the grip steadily tightened, sending waves of darkness across his vision as his consciousness began to slip away.
Just as Vito thought he was about to be strangled to death, Benjamin suddenly released his grip. He took a step back and looked down at Vito, who was bent over, coughing and gasping for breath. Benjamin flicked the broken cigarette butt onto his cousin and ordered, "Book the tickets. We should be heading back.”