Chapter 145 Chapter 145
Grace's right hand was swollen, numb, and throbbing with a burning pain that made her barely aware of its presence. Suddenly, she grew quiet, staring silently out the window as panic swelled within her.
If Benjamin's words were true, she couldn't bear to imagine what would become of her. Carrying his child felt like a death sentence.
Night had deepened. Michael drove fast and steady; the dim streetlights flashed by as Grace's mind grew hazy.
She had exhausted every ounce of energy to hold on this long. Even her resilient will couldn't resist the dual exhaustion of body and mind.
Unable to bear it any longer, she drifted into a drowsy sleep. In her haze, she sensed someone moving her. She forced her eyes open and saw Benjamin's jawline.
He was carrying her into the elevator. Noticing that she had woken up, he whispered, "It's okay. We're home.”
Grace felt dizzy and disoriented; the world spun and distorted before her eyes.
She simply closed her eyes and let Benjamin carry her upstairs.
He carried her straight to the bedroom and suggested, "Let me help you bathe first. We'll sleep after you're clean."
Her body was covered in bloodstains, especially her legs. While kneeling on the road earlier, she had practically been submerged in Wendy's blood, which was now dried and caked.
Grace struggled to her feet and pushed Benjamin away forcefully. She steadied herself against the bathroom door. "Go away. I'll do this myself."
Benjamin didn't argue. He released her and let her in.
She closed the door and skipped the tub. Instead, she stood directly under the showerhead. Steaming water cascaded down from above. After a moment, she felt its temperature—it was scalding.
The bloodstains washed away and pooled in a crimson patch at the drain before disappearing down the pipes.
It took a long time for the metallic scent of blood to fade.
Her head grew heavier and she feared she might faint in the bathroom. She rinsed hastily, wrapped herself in a bathrobe, and stepped out. Benjamin remained in the bedroom, still dressed, sitting quietly on the sofa beside the bed. Seeing her emerge, he asked softly, "How are you?"
Grace pressed her lips together, pulled back the covers, lay down on the bed, and replied weakly, "Alex, I want to sleep alone tonight."
He didn't respond. He looked at her for a moment, then got up and walked out of the room. A long while later, he returned, his hair dripping wet—he had clearly showered elsewhere.
He sat down beside the bed, took her hand, and put an ice pack on her swollen right hand. She had been drifting off to sleep when the icy sensation startled her awake. When she opened her eyes and saw him, she instinctively pulled her hand back.
"Don't move," he said calmly.
She stopped struggling and let him tend to her.
Only then did he notice the purple bruise on her wrist. He asked, "What happened? Who did this?"
Grace didn't answer. After a moment of silence, she softly asked, "Alex, do you ever have nightmares? Have you ever dreamed about the people you killed? After doing so many unscrupulous things, have you never felt uneasy?"
His expression flickered briefly before he gave a faint smile. "No," he replied. "Probably because they’re afraid I'd kill them again."
She didn't even want to look at him and slowly closed her eyes.
Benjamin ignored her coldness and applied the compress to her hand. Only after she was sound asleep did he leave.
When he emerged, the light in the living room downstairs was still on. Michael stood waiting at the staircase entrance. His gaze briefly flicked over Benjamin's swollen left cheek before quickly averting. He cautiously said, "Hollis has been waiting downstairs. He wants to see you.”
Benjamin showed little reaction. Michael stole a glance at him and explained, "He said the car accident was unforeseeable. Wendy was alert—the moment she stepped out, she seemed to spot their car and turned to run down the path. By the time they turned around to chase after her, she’d already been hit."
Hollis had been assigned to Wendy's case, and this was the outcome.
Not only had Wendy died unexpectedly, but Grace had seen it happen.
Benjamin felt a surge of irritation, but beating Hollis senseless at this point wouldn't solve anything.
His brow furrowed slightly as he said flatly, "Tell him to go back."
The moment he spoke, the pain in his cheek flared—she’d struck him so hard that her own hand had swollen.
With a temper like hers, even if he laid out the facts, she wouldn’t believe him.
Benjamin lifted his hand to press the ice pack against his face, muffling his words. "Have Hollis locate the hit-and-run vehicle. Discreetly leak the information to the police. Give them a hand.”
Michael nodded and turned to leave.
Benjamin went to his study and settled into the wide armchair behind the desk alone. He propped his legs up on the tabletop and stared blankly ahead.
The stinging pain on his face flared intermittently. He couldn't be bothered with the ice pack anymore. He flung it onto the desk before reaching into a drawer for a cigarette.
He was a heavy smoker. He had resisted for years, but at some point, he had started again and couldn't quit.
Grace's words suddenly came back to him.
He wasn't Benjamin. He was just Alex. Even if he could bleach the whites of his fingertips, his lungs were already blackened beyond repair.
She understood him best. He was a villain at heart.
He couldn't care less whether Wendy lived or died. The only people who mattered to him were those he cared about.
The one person he cared about had never cared about him. But so what? He still cared about her.
Benjamin sat in his study until dawn. In the early morning, he went to check on Grace in the bedroom. Seeing that she was still asleep, he didn't disturb her, quietly slipping downstairs instead.
Michael was eating breakfast downstairs. When he spotted Benjamin, he stood to greet him, his eyes instinctively darting toward his face. Benjamin noticed and asked coolly, "That obvious?"
Half of Benjamin's face was swollen and bore clear fingerprints, with a hint of bruising around his mouth. Michael dared not lie, nodding stiffly.
Benjamin raised a hand to touch his face and forced a smile. He said, "I won't be going to the office today. Go get my laptop from the car."
Benjamin sat down at the table and ate a few bites before heading upstairs. Worried that something might happen to Grace, he didn't dare go to the study. Instead, he waited outside the bedroom and worked on his laptop.
Around noon, movement finally stirred in the bedroom. He rose to investigate. Grace was no longer in bed. A figure shifted in the adjacent bathroom, and the sound of running water soon followed.
He stood by the bathroom door with his arms crossed, waiting. Worried that she might be startled upon emerging, he called out as soon as the water stopped running. "Are you awake?"
The bathroom fell silent for a moment. Soon after, Grace emerged, wrapped in a bathrobe. She stood there and looked at him. Then, she gently lowered her eyelids and said, "I need to go to the Meyers' house. I promised Wendy I'd take care of her grandmother. Her funeral arrangements need someone to help with them.”
Benjamin pressed his lips together and replied, "I'll go with you."
"Find someone else," Grace said flatly, her voice cold and unreadable. "Mrs. Meyer would only want to kill you if she saw you."
Benjamin looked at her, smiled, and nodded. "All right. Go eat something first. I'll have Michael accompany you later."
Grace had no appetite whatsoever. Whether it was psychological or not, even plain white bread made her gag. Suppressing her nausea, she forced each bite of food down. She ate her usual bread and fried eggs and drank a glass of milk. Then she stopped.
Benjamin sat silently beside her. Hearing her nasal congestion, he couldn't help but ask, "Not feeling well?"
Her expression remained unchanged as she replied, "The shower water was cold last night. I think I caught a chill.”
"Should I call Dr. Willie to check on you?" Benjamin asked again.
Grace answered, "No need. I'll just take a couple of cold pills later."
She rose from the table, went upstairs to change into a black shirt and pants, and then called Michael to tell him to leave.
The Meyers' home was in an old apartment building. Grace got out of the car and told Michael to wait inside. She walked to the Meyers' place alone . It was past noon. She knocked on the door for a long time, but there was no answer. Instead, the neighbor across the hall opened the door a crack. A woman peered out and glanced at her. She said, "Something happened to them. Mrs. Meyer was taken away by ambulance this morning.”
Grace turned around. Before she could ask any questions, the woman sighed. "Her granddaughter just died in a car accident. Oh, it's so tragic. Her son passed away two years ago in a car crash, too. Now her granddaughter, too. It's like the devil's got his eye on them."
The devil had his eye on them because they knew her.
Grace turned deathly pale and stood frozen for a long moment before asking the woman, "Do you know which hospital Mrs. Meyer was taken to?"
The middle-aged woman thought for a moment, then shook her head. "Honestly, I don't know. I only saw the ambulance come to take her away. Which hospital? I have no idea.”
Grace thanked her and slowly turned to walk back outside.
The afternoon sun beat down fiercely, yet she felt waves of chill running through her body—a cold seeping from her bones that no amount of warmth could dispel. She leaned against the wall for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing on.
Michael was startled by her pallor and asked anxiously, "Ms. Hill, are you all right?"
Grace shook her head, closed her eyes, and leaned back in the rear seat. "Let's go to the hospital," she murmured softly. "Start with the ones nearby. See which hospital Mrs. Meyer is at.”
Searching for someone at hospitals wasn't easy, and Michael hesitated. "Could we try calling first?"
"I already did," Grace replied. "The line is dead."
If the phone wasn't working, they had no choice but to visit each hospital. Fortunately, they knew she had been taken by ambulance that morning, which was at least a clue. Michael started the car and headed to the nearest hospital. Hospitals always seemed packed to the brim, and there wasn't even room to park. After struggling to find a spot on the roadside, Michael glanced back at Grace. Her complexion looked awful. After hesitating for a moment, he suggested, "Why don't you rest in the car while I check with the ER about Mrs. Meyer's status? What do you think?"
Grace nodded. "Go ahead. I'll wait in the car."
Michael didn't question her. He got out and jogged toward the emergency room of the hospital. Once he was out of sight, Grace got out, too, leaving the car unlocked. She hurried into a nearby pharmacy.
Without hesitating, she grabbed a pregnancy test and left immediately. She returned to the car.
Soon, Michael came running back. "She's not here."
Grace nodded, her voice flat. "Then let's go to the next one."