Channing’s hospitalization required money—and worse still, Channing had lost movent on one side of his body. He needed soone with him at all tis to take care of him. And neither she nor her mother were the kind of people who knew how to care for anyone.
Lucca felt nothing but despair. She had never been the sort of person who could remain calm and composed after a catastrophe. Now, it felt as if the entire world had collapsed around her. She clutched her head, sank down onto the floor of Channing’s hospital room, and began screaming uncontrollably.
Naturally, her screams drew a nurse over. The nurse warned her sharply, displeasure written all over her face.
"Your father was just resuscitated. He needs rest right now. Have you given any thought to the patient at all, behaving so hysterically?"
Lucca already had a terrible reputation, and now she was making a scene in a hospital ward. The contempt in the nurse’s eyes grew unmistakable. After reprimanding her, the nurse turned and left.
Lucca had never endured such humiliation before. The disdain in that nurse’s gaze made her fully understand what it felt like to be looked down upon. Her pride—sothing she had always held high—was trampled rcilessly underfoot.
The pain tore through her chest, but she couldn’t put it into words.
Because this was all her own doing.
Tracy wiped away her tears and said through clenched teeth from the side,
"Your dad’s like this now. You shouldn’t be the only one bearing it all. Go find Catherine. She’s his daughter too—she should take responsibility as well. She should help take care of him, and she should pay part of his dical bills!"
As Tracy said this, she completely forgot how, over the years, she had whispered poison into Channing’s ear, urging him to ignore Catherine—how she had even ensured that he never gave Catherine a single cent.
It was true that Renata hadn’t demanded any alimony during the divorce, but surely when Catherine ca to pay New Year’s visits as his daughter, he could have given her so lucky money. Or at least a little pocket money now and then. Even buying her a piece of clothing or so school supplies would have been sothing. Yet all these years, Channing had never spent a single cent on Catherine.
Much of Channing’s harshness toward Catherine had Tracy’s invisible hand behind it.
Channing was, after all, Catherine’s father. He had once wanted to show concern for his daughter, but every such thought had been cut off by Tracy. Channing himself was not a man overflowing with paternal love, nor did he have particularly deep feelings for Catherine. On top of that, Renata’s actions back then had wounded his pride badly. Over ti, Catherine had all but disappeared from his world entirely.
Now that sothing had happened to Channing, Tracy was the first to rember that Catherine should also shoulder responsibility.
Lucca felt her mother made sense. Catherine was a daughter too—why should she alone bear the burden? Catherine should contribute money and effort as well.
But before Lucca could say anything, Tracy spoke again from the side.
"What am I even doing staying here? I’m already divorced from him. Whether he lives or dies has nothing to do with ."
Then she said to Lucca,
"I’ve got things to do. I’m leaving. You call that Catherine."
With that, she turned around, picked up her designer handbag, and prepared to leave. All those bags had been bought with Channing’s money back when she squandered it freely. Yet now, faced with Channing lying helpless in his hospital bed, she left without the slightest hesitation.
Even divorced, there was still once the bond of husband and wife. In Channing’s current state—so wretched, so in need of care—she could have at least stayed for one night to help. But Tracy turned away coldly, leaving in disgust.
Even Lucca was hurt by her mother’s heartlessness. She scrambled to her feet and grabbed Tracy’s arm.
"Mom—"
"Don’t go. Can’t you stay and help take care of Dad, even just a little?"
At least Lucca still had so conscience. She hadn’t reached the point of abandoning Channing entirely the way Tracy had.
Tracy frowned, clearly impatient.
"Why should I take care of him? We’re divorced. I have nothing to do with him anymore!"
She shook Lucca’s hand off rcilessly and walked out of Channing’s hospital room without looking back, leaving Lucca alone.
Lucca stomped her foot in anger, tears streaming down her face. It was the first ti she truly realized how cold and selfish her mother was.
Still, she didn’t forget what Tracy had said. After wiping away her tears and forcing herself to calm down, she took out her phone and called Catherine.
Just monts ago, Lucca had been drowning in despair—wondering how she could possibly bear the costs of Channing’s treatnt and care in this condition. But now that she thought of Catherine, the despair vanished almost instantly.
Lucca understood Catherine’s personality. She knew that seeing Channing like this, Catherine would never turn her back. When the ti ca, Lucca could simply push everything onto her.
After all, Catherine was with Bert now. She had plenty of money—money for Channing’s treatnt, money to hire a professional caregiver. None of it would be a burden to her at all.
What Lucca had forgotten was that no matter how kind or soft-hearted Catherine might be, there was a Bert by her side who showed no rcy whatsoever.
At that mont, Catherine was pinned against the bed by Bert, lost in his kisses. The sudden ringing of a phone shattered Bert’s mood. He picked it up and glanced at the screen—Lucca’s number. Instantly irritated, he hung up without hesitation, shut the phone off, and tossed it aside.
Then he leaned down again and kissed Catherine fiercely. Soone as shaless and irrelevant as Lucca—why was Catherine still keeping her number anyway? Wasn’t it disgusting enough already?
Half dazed, Catherine asked softly,
"Who was it?"
Bert didn’t answer. He sealed her tender lips with another burning kiss, lingering and possessive, leaving her with no room to think about anything else.
When the heat-filled intimacy finally subsided, Catherine, utterly exhausted, drifted into a deep sleep. Bert went to the bathroom to rinse himself off. When he returned, he glanced at Catherine’s phone lying where he had thrown it, walked over, and turned it back on.
The screen lit up with nurous missed calls from Lucca.
Bert let out a cold laugh and called back.
Calling Catherine so many tis in the middle of the night—there was no way Lucca had anything good in mind.
He was curious to see just how Lucca intended to humiliate herself this ti. Bert had promised Catherine that he wouldn’t make a move against Lucca again—but now that Lucca had co knocking on her own accord, if she still refused to repent, then she could hardly bla him for being ruthless.
"What is it?"
Bert’s cold, hardened voice ca through the line as he addressed Lucca. When it ca to people who were irrelevant to him, Bert had always been ruthless and indifferent—let alone when that person was soone he openly despised.
Lucca had been trying to reach Catherine. She hadn’t expected Bert to be the one who answered, and she froze for a mont on the other end.
In the stillness of the night, Bert’s voice sounded particularly sensual—low and magnetic. And because he had just shared such intense intimacy with Catherine, that magnetism was even more pronounced. Hearing it sent ripples through Lucca’s heart despite herself.
And when she thought about how a man this captivating ultimately belonged to Catherine, the resentnt she had tried to suppress surged up again.
Why?
Why did soone like Catherine deserve a man so perfect?
But no matter how unwilling she felt, she had no choice but to swallow it down for now. Gripping her phone tightly, she forced herself to speak in a calm tone.
"Where’s Catherine?"
Bert replied curtly and without emotion,
"She’s asleep."
Those two words made Lucca’s chest tighten again. Gritting her teeth, she said,
"My dad had a stroke and is in the hospital. As his daughter, shouldn’t she be helping out—financially and otherwise?"
"Heh."
Bert let out a cold laugh on the other end.
"Helping out? Financially and otherwise?"
"When she needed money, when she needed support, where was her father, Channing? And where were you, her so-called sister? Back then, no one rembered that she was Channing’s daughter. Now that your father’s in trouble, suddenly you want her to share the burden with you?"
Bert didn’t hold back as he shot back at Lucca.
"If I rember correctly, back at the hospital, you stood there all high and mighty and said you wouldn’t let Channing give her a single cent for her mother’s dical treatnt."
He dragged out everything that had happened back when Catherine had first returned to the country—how Lucca had humiliated her in the hospital. Bert was not the kind of man who forgot grudges. Lucca’s arrogant, commanding words from that day had infuriated him beyond asure.
If she hadn’t gone so far, he wouldn’t have stepped in at all.
The only reason he had intervened back then was because, even if it had only been for one night, Catherine was still his woman. There was no way he would allow soone to bully her like that.
"And now I can tell you this very clearly," Bert continued coldly.
"I won’t let her spend a single cent or lift a single finger for Channing—or for you."
His voice was thick with retaliation for Lucca’s past behavior. Lucca was left utterly speechless. There was nothing she could say—everything she had once done to Catherine was now being paid back, rcilessly, through Bert.
Reviews
All reviews (0)