Chapter 168 Chapter 168
The next morning, Mr. Roland woke up early. The sun was barely out, and Grace was still asleep. He sat by the window, staring at the brown envelope he had promised to return. His heart beat fast as he thought about what Clara might do when he refused her offer.
He finally stood up, wore his old jacket, and slipped the envelope into his pocket. “I’ll go see her and end this once and for all,” he whispered to himself.
By the time he reached the restaurant where Clara had told him to meet her, the place was quiet. The workers were still arranging chairs for the day. Clara sat at the corner table, wearing dark sunglasses, a glass of juice in front of her. She looked calm, but her eyes carried that same dangerous fire he remembered.
When she saw Roland, she smiled — but it wasn’t a kind smile. “Mr. Roland,” she said softly, her red lips curving into a smirk. “You came early. Good. I like people who take their jobs seriously.”
Roland removed the envelope and placed it on the table. “Madam Clara, I came to give this back. I can’t do what you asked me to do. Please, leave me and my wife out of your plans.”
Clara’s smile slowly disappeared. “What did you just say?”
“I said I can’t do it,” he repeated, his voice shaking. “That little boy is innocent. I won’t be part of anything that will hurt him.”
Clara leaned back in her chair, watching him closely. “So, you’re saying no to me?”
“Yes,” Roland said, gathering courage. “I’m done working with you. You can find someone else, but not me.”
Clara took off her sunglasses and looked straight into his eyes. “You think it’s that easy to walk away, old man? Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?”
Roland swallowed hard. “I don’t care who you are. I fear God, not man. Please, just take your money and leave us alone.”
Clara’s eyes darkened. “Fear God?” she repeated, laughing bitterly. “Then maybe you should pray He saves your wife.”
Roland froze. “What do you mean by that?”
Clara leaned forward and whispered, “I know your wife, Grace, has been sick for a while. You think I don’t know where you live? One phone call, and she’ll be gone before sunset.”
Roland’s knees went weak. “Please, don’t touch her,” he begged, his voice trembling. “She’s innocent. She has nothing to do with this.”
“Then do your job,” Clara said coldly. “That’s the only way she stays safe. Just a small drop of what I gave you — one spoon in the boy’s meal. He’ll fall asleep and never wake up. Nobody will suspect you.”
Roland’s hands shook. “You’re a devil, Madam Clara. A devil in disguise.”
Clara smirked. “I’ve been called worse. Now listen carefully — you have until tomorrow night. If you don’t do what I said, I’ll come for both of you.”
She stood up, picked up her purse, and walked away. The sound of her heels echoed through the restaurant, sharp and cold like a warning.
Roland sank into the chair, his whole body trembling. Sweat ran down his face as he whispered, “Dear God, what have I gotten myself into?”
He stayed there for minutes, his mind spinning. He couldn’t go home — not yet. He didn’t want Grace to see how scared he was.
After some time, he stood up and walked out of the restaurant. The street was busy, but everything around him felt blurry.
He muttered to himself, “I have to protect Grace and the boy. I won’t let Clara win.”
He decided right there to go to Adrian’s mansion that evening. He would tell the truth about everything — even if it cost him his life.
But as he walked away, a black car parked across the street. Inside, one of Clara’s men watched him closely and picked up his phone.
“Madam,” the man said quietly, “he’s leaving the restaurant.”
Clara’s cold voice came through the speaker. “Good. Follow him. If he dares to talk to anyone… make sure he never opens his mouth again.”
The man nodded, started the engine, and began to follow the old gardener.
Roland had no idea — danger was already right behind him.