Chapter 7
Vivian, furious at the crowd watching her humiliation, screamed, “What the hell are you looking at? Keep staring and I’ll tell my father!”
The guests had only ever tolerated her because of Damien.
Behind closed doors, no one respected the bastard daughter of a mistress who clawed her the Monroe family.
way
into
But now, seeing how Damien had just treated her they dropped all pretense.
And turned on her.
Meanwhile, Damien had rushed to the hospital.
But he couldn’t find his mother–in–law’s room.
He sat in the hospital’s executive conference room, his face thunderous.
The director himself served him tea, all smiles and flattery.
“Mr. Lancaster! What an honor to see you again. What brings you to our little facility at this hour?”
Crash!
Damien slammed the teacup into the table, shattering porcelain everywhere.
“Who gave you permission to move my mother–in–law to another room?!”
Everyone in the room froze.
The director frowned. “Move? What move?”
M
Damien’s voice was razor–sharp. “Jasmine Sinclair’s mother. Wasn’t she in Room 301? The VIP suite?”
The director looked at him strangely. “Sir… your mother–in–law… passed away.”
He hesitated, clearly uneasy.
“Suicide. Your wife was downstairs at the time… she saw the whole thing. She never said anything to us. We assumed… you knew.”
Boom.
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It was like a bomb went off in Damien’s brain.
“You said what?!”
The director signaled his staff, who hurriedly brought up the security footage.
ELY
Damien watched the screen, breath caught in his throat.
Jasmine was cradling
er mother’s mangled body, covered in blood, sobbing uncontrollably.
She vomited, over and over, like her soul had been torn in two.
She kept whispering to the corpse, over and over again.
He began to tremble.
His eyes went red. “Why… why didn’t anyone tell me?!”
His assistant stepped forward cautiously. “M–Mr. Lancaster… at the time, you were… hosting Miss Monroe’s wedding…”
Damien collapsed into the chair behind him like the wind had been knocked out of him.
His fingers were trembling, and he forced them to still.
He didn’t want to think about it.
Didn’t want to wonder if what he’d flushed down the toilet that day… had been lime powder or bone
ash.
He had killed Jasmine’s cat.
Burned her mother’s bedspread.
Cut off her hair with his own hands.
This time…
Maybe he’d gone too far.
For the first time, Damien felt real fear.
Even his voice trembled. “Have you found her?”
The assistant shook his head, avoiding Damien’s gaze.
Chapter 7
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དང 1:ཀག་༧༡ང་ངའང་བཀག 1:ཀར
ངས་ཕྱིར་ན་ང་་་ ཁེ་རཔར
“I’m sorry, sir. The surveillance systems near the estate all went dark during that time.”
Before Damien could erupt again, the assistant added,
“But the severed hand–it wasn’t hers.”
Damien’s head jerked up.
The assistant swallowed hard.
“About a mile from the estate, in a park… a man was found chained to a tree.”
“One of his hands was missing.‘
“It was Chase Donovan… the second son of the Donovan family.”
“He’s dead. Mutilated. Castrated. Eyes wide open when we found him.”
Everyone in the room sucked in a breath.
Damien’s expression darkened like a thunderstorm.
That bastard had dared touch Jasmine?
His voice dropped, ice cold.
“Three days. I want to know who did it. And I want Jasmine back. Immediately.”
年
“As for Chase Donovan… dig up his corpse.”
“Feed it to the crocodiles.”
“And record it. I’ll need the footage to calm my wife.”
Just then, the butler came rushing in.
“Sir–your grandfather just returned. He wants to see you. Now.”
Damien scowled. “Why is he back?”
But still, he got up and went.
The moment he stepped inside the estate, a resounding slap cracked across his face.
The old man’s cane thumped hard against the marble floor.
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“You disgrace!”
“Get down on your knees!”
Behind him, Vivian stood with a smug, gleeful expression.
Damien’s face darkened.
“Grandpa, what are you doing here?”
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Chapter 7
