Felix Finch arrived in Fenchest from Riverden, weary from his journey.
Natalie Morgan was just about to head out.
"Here, flowers for you." It was a bouquet of white roses, their fragrance rich and sweet.
Natalie Morgan froze. "For ?"
"For you. Do you like them?" He had a gentle smile on his face and was also holding a small red velvet cake. "I know you love this, so I bought it especially for you."
A warmth spread through Natalie Morgan’s chest.
She reached out and took the cake. "Thank you."
"Were you on your way out?"
"Yeah, one of my students hired as an off-campus tutor. I have to go teach him a lesson." Natalie glanced at her watch. "But it’s not urgent. Didn’t you say last ti that you had sothing to tell ? What was it?"
"It’s..." Felix Finch pursed his lips, looking troubled. He pushed up the gold-rimd glasses on his nose. "...about your father."
Natalie Morgan was baffled.
’Hasn’t her father been dead for five years?’
’Why bring him up all of a sudden?’
"Felix, my father... what about him?"
Felix Finch, afraid Natalie Morgan might get too emotional, placed a hand on her shoulder. "Natalie, listen to . Your father... your father, he’s... actually... not dead."
’Not dead?’
A violent tremor ran through Natalie Morgan’s body.
Her mind was in chaos.
’She had buried his ashes with her own hands back then. How could he not be dead?’
"What... what do you an?" Natalie’s voice trembled.
"Listen to ." He took a deep breath, his voice soft and low as if afraid of scaring her. "Your father is indeed still alive, but..."
’But...?’
Natalie Morgan’s heart sank. She stared intently at Felix Finch, waiting for him to continue.
"But he’s been imprisoned by Theodore Grant." Felix Finch let out a helpless sigh. "I only just found out myself. I never thought Theodore would do sothing like this. It’s truly shocking."
Felix Finch’s words were like a sharp knife, plunging deep into Natalie Morgan’s heart.
Back then, Maxwell Morgan had been arrested and had committed suicide in prison.
’Was it all a lie?’
’Why would Theodore Grant do this?’
It wasn’t hard to guess.
Revenge.
He was doing this to her, to the Morgan Family, all for the sake of revenge.
"Holding soone against their will is illegal. Let’s call the police." The woman’s eyes slowly lost their warmth. "Have him arrested. Let him go to jail."
"I think you should try talking to him first. With Theodore Grant’s power, he could probably fabricate so so-called evidence in the blink of an eye and have *you* sent to prison. You can’t win a fight against him."
Felix Finch gently patted Natalie Morgan’s shoulder.
He offered her comfort while also showing his willingness to be her steadfast support.
A glint of determination appeared in the woman’s dim eyes.
’Can’t win?’
’Then she would fight anyway.’
Sean Lane had given her a U-drive a while ago, but she had never opened it.
He’d said it contained video files of her father, which she hadn’t watched yet.
The woman’s elegant fingers clenched into a tight fist.
No matter what, she had to rescue her father from Theodore Grant’s clutches.
"Natalie." Felix Finch gently hugged her. "Don’t rush. You have . I’ll help you."
"Felix, I’m a little tired. I need to think."
Everything had happened too suddenly.
She was completely unprepared.
She needed to be alone right now.
Felix Finch didn’t insist. He patted her back sympathetically. "Okay, I’ll head back first. Don’t be too anxious. I’ll talk to Theodore. I really never expected him to do sothing like this. After all these years, I can’t believe I never noticed a thing. I just don’t know how your father..."
Felix Finch trailed off.
After offering a few more words of comfort to Natalie Morgan, he left.
Natalie Morgan rose dejectedly, walked over to a low cabinet in the living room, pulled open a drawer, and found a small tal box.
She took out the U-drive from inside.
She inserted the U-drive into her computer.
It was Maxwell Morgan’s familiar face on the screen.
"Theodore Grant, why did you report ? I’m your father-in-law! Aren’t you afraid of hurting Natalie by doing this to ? She loves you so much! How could you do this to her father? You’re so heartless."
In the video, several n were holding Maxwell Morgan down, punching and kicking him.
He was on his knees, desperately begging Theodore Grant to let him go.
The sight of him so humbled, pitiful, and helpless wrung her heart with pain.
Unable to watch anymore, the woman slamd her laptop shut in a rage and stord out the door.
...
The doorbell rang.
The man, having just showered, went to open the door with only a towel wrapped around his waist.
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
Three slaps in a row, delivered with all her might, struck Theodore Grant’s face.
As she went for a fourth, he caught her wrist in ti, his brows knitting in anger. "Are you insane?"
"Theodore Grant, you’re not even human! Where did you hide my father?" Natalie Morgan’s eyes were bloodshot, and her voice trembled. "Tell ! Where did you hide my father?"
"Your father?" He flung her hand away and walked inside, drying his hair. "Why would I know Miss Childs’s parents?"
"Theodore Grant, let’s both drop the act. You recognized a long ti ago, didn’t you?"
The man chuckled, plopping down onto the wide, soft sofa. "Well, well. So you admit it? Admit you’re my dear departed wife?"
"Where the hell did you hide my father?" She didn’t know where the courage or strength ca from, but she grabbed Theodore Grant’s bathrobe and demanded fiercely, "Why would you do this? It wasn’t enough for you to report him and send him to prison, you had to torture him for five long years? Are you even human?"
Her eyes were crimson.
It was as if rage had burned its way up to her throat.
The man casually gripped her wrist, then released it. His voice was low and deep. "Who told you I hid your father? Was it your precious ’senior brother’?"
"Does it matter who told ?"
"It seems you have unconditional trust in your precious ’senior brother’." He picked up his freshly made coffee and blew on it. "And that other guy who loves playing daddy—how far have things gone with him?"
"Theodore Grant, stop trying to change the subject! My father! I want to see him." She was furious, her eyes blazing red.
The man took a light sip of his coffee and looked up at her. "If you want to see your father, then you’d better behave."
"Hah." Natalie Morgan found it laughable. "So now you’re using my father to threaten ?"
"If you say it’s a threat, then it’s a threat." He stared into her eyes without blinking, as if deliberately trying to provoke her. "After all, it’s not like I’m a good person in your eyes anyway."
"You were never anything but a monster in a suit."
Her voice was laced with a fury so intense it seed she might tear the man before her to pieces in the next second.
Theodore Grant set down his coffee cup. His playful deanor vanished, replaced by a cold calm. He said, enunciating each word, "Your father is fine right now. It’s just... not a good ti for you to see him."
"Why? Why can’t I see him now?" she shrieked, her eyes welling with tears.
He rose and walked over to her, his gaze lowered. "The timing isn’t right."
"And when will the timing be right? When he’s dead? Our family... you’ve driven us to death, to madness, to fleeing for our lives! What more do you want?" Her fingertips trembled as she clutched his bathrobe, her teeth chattering. "What will it take for you to finally let us go...?"
He grabbed her hand, enveloping its coldness in his warm palm. "So things aren’t as simple as you think. And so people... aren’t as innocent as you believe. Do you understand?"
"I don’t understand! All I know is that you have no right to lock anyone up! If it cos to it, I’ll take you down with ! At worst, it’s a life for a life!" she glared at him, as if she wanted to tear him to shreds.
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