"No, don't... Ivan!" Glades Horne, Julia, Benjamin Robinson, and Jas Horne all lunged forward simultaneously.
After Phoebe Rogers dropped the cotton doll, she leaped off the building.
"Mom!"
"Ivan!"
Several cries of alarm rose at once.
But no one was able to catch Phoebe Rogers, let alone rescue 'Ivan.'
"Ivan..." Julia's eyes fluttered, her legs gave way, and she fainted—very convincingly—into Glades Horne's arms.
Mila Anderson and the old lady also fainted.
Glades Horne, supporting the feigning Julia, called out anxiously, "Julia, Julia!" Then he turned his head and hurriedly ordered the crowd, "Go down and check!" Preparations had been made downstairs to rescue them. The cotton doll was fake, so of course, it would be unhard. He mainly wanted to know Phoebe Rogers's condition.
Of course, he also needed to swap the real Ivan Horne with the cotton doll. He naturally entrusted this task to his most capable Special Assistant, Hansen Ruiz.
This was why Hansen Ruiz had been stationed downstairs all along.
"Julia." Rachel Bailey remained by Julia's side. Seeing her close friend endure such an ordeal, her eyes reddened, tears welling up.
As a mother herself, she could empathize with Julia's feelings at that mont.
The people below caught both the cotton doll and Phoebe Rogers.
The cotton doll was still "crying" endlessly. Hansen Ruiz, already inside the police cordon, was the first to rush forward and snatch up the doll. anwhile, his n deliberately created a chaotic scene, jostling each other as they pretended to rush to the rescue, and broke through the police lines.
The police on site couldn't stop them. The real Ivan Horne was covertly carried out of the hotel's side entrance by Glades Horne's bodyguards, unnoticed by anyone. Ivan was a great help, sound asleep and not crying; his cries might otherwise have drawn the crowd's attention.
So guests at the first-month celebration saw the rush of people, presumably to help, and impulsively followed. However, Hansen Ruiz's n blocked them. Just as Hansen Ruiz snatched the cotton doll, Glades Horne's bodyguards, holding Ivan, quickly made the swap.
By the ti the paradics, called in advance, managed to squeeze through the crowd, the child in Hansen Ruiz's arms was already the real Ivan Horne.
The prevailing thought was that whoever rescued the young heir of the Horne family would beco their great benefactor.
This notion provided a plausible explanation for the chaotic scene. As for potential repercussions from the police, no one dwelled on it; that was a concern for later.
Soon, both Phoebe Rogers and the real Ivan Horne were receiving ergency dical treatnt on-site from the doctors.
The doctors treating Ivan Horne were astounded to find him completely unhard. As they began their assessnt, the child woke up. The little one was wailing, his cries robust and clear, leaving no doubt he was perfectly fine.
Phoebe Rogers had fainted. She had sustained internal injuries—not minor, but not life-threatening—and she had survived.
After receiving on-site dical attention, she regained consciousness, only to be t with a pair of cold handcuffs. Her cris—robbery and, effectively, murder of a hostage—were grave. Even if she avoided the death penalty, she would spend the rest of her life imprisoned, never seeing daylight again.
This act thoroughly severed her ruinous connection with Gian Horne. He would no longer harbor any love or pity for her, and her son, Jas Horne, would find it impossible to forgive her.
She had thought death would be her escape, but she wasn't allowed to die.
To live on, facing legal retribution, the loss of her beloved's affection, and her son's enduring condemnation—this would be her tornt for the remainder of her days.
The Horne family all ca downstairs.
Julia and the old lady, who had fainted, were revived by pressure applied to their philtrum acupoints.
The Horne family finally breathed a collective sigh of relief upon learning that Ivan Horne was unhard.
When Phoebe Rogers regained consciousness and understood the full extent of her failure, her face turned ashen. Her situation was utterly hopeless.
A cold pair of handcuffs were fastened around her wrists as she was lifted onto a stretcher and into the ambulance, accompanied by two uniford police officers.
"Gian... Jas..."
Tears stread down her face as she was handcuffed and loaded into the ambulance, her gaze fixed on Gian Horne and Jas Horne.
Gian Horne turned his face away, unable to look at her.
Jas Horne didn't turn away, but profound anguish was etched on his face. Knowing his mother was alive, his conflicted heart now leaned towards Glades Horne. Finally, Jas closed his tear-filled eyes. He could not forgive his mother's heinous acts. The cold ambulance doors slamd shut, like prison gates, severing Phoebe Rogers from her son.
One misstep, and a lifeti of regret.
The seeds sown thirty years ago had now borne their bitter fruit.
A wave of sorrowful sighs swept through those left behind.
Phoebe Rogers had utterly ruined what should have been a joyful first-month celebration.
This major stage of Glades Horne's plan for retribution against Phoebe Rogers had finally concluded. However, seeing Jas Horne so heartbroken and unable to forgive his mother's actions, Glades himself felt a heavy weight in his heart.
If Phoebe Rogers hadn't been so consud by resentnt and greed, he might have, for Jas Horne's sake, sought a lighter punishnt for her. But her greed was insatiable, like a snake trying to swallow an elephant. Even inheritances exceeding a billion dollars, left to Jas by Gian Horne and the old lady, failed to satisfy her. She had been obsessed with maneuvering Jas into the CEO position at the Valence Group and establishing herself as the true matriarch of the Horne family.
Indeed, one cannot escape the consequences of one's own disastrous actions!
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