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Chapter 1173:
🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙 🍙
She stood at Brayden’s bedside, taking in his still form wrapped in pristine white bandages following the skin graft surgery. Her hand drifted out to gently trace the edge of the gauze, her heart clenching painfully.
The surgeon stood nearby, reviewing his charts. “The procedure was successful. He’s still under the effects of anesthesia, but he should regain consciousness tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Gracie murmured.
She escorted the doctor to the door, then returned to sink wearily onto the couch.
By tomorrow morning, Brayden would be awake and safe. But what about Charlie and the rescue team? What was happening at the resort?
Neither Charlie nor Conroy was answering her increasingly frantic calls.
As the minutes crawled past, dread coiled tighter and tighter in her gut.
The sound of rapid footsteps echoed suddenly in the corridor outside.
𝘙o𝗆𝗮nсе ո𝗈vel𝗌 𝘰𝗻 𝗀а𝗹ոo𝘃𝖾𝘭𝘴.𝘤𝗼m
Gracie’s head snapped up, instinct taking over. She rushed to the door and yanked it open to find two familiar figures approaching.
“Did you get her out? Is Jessie safe?”
Charlie looked worse than before — fresh blood seeping through hastily applied bandages — but he managed a weak nod. “It was a close call, but we extracted her successfully. She’s secured at Mr. Russell’s private villa in the suburbs. Eaton won’t find her there.”
“Thank God.”
With that confirmation, the tension that had been holding Gracie upright for hours finally released its grip.
Exhaustion crashed over her like a wave, and she swayed dangerously.
Conroy’s hands shot out to steady her before she could fall. “Stanley, you can finally rest now. Everything’s under control.”
A sleek bullet train from Egodon gradually rolled into Wafland’s station. Among the crowd of passengers stepping onto the platform, a tall young man emerged quietly.
His youthful features lifted toward the sky as he inhaled deeply. “It’s been so long,” he murmured softly. “I’m finally back.”
He stopped a taxi at the roadside and got in without hesitation. “Take me to the prison,” he said, his low voice carrying a calm authority.
Outside the prison gates, a black Cullinan stood parked nearby.
Eaton stepped out of the vehicle and headed straight inside.
The visitation approval had already been arranged by his assistant the previous day, so the guards allowed him through without delay.
Inside the visitation room, Lyndon leaned lazily against his chair, surprise flashing briefly across his face. “Mr. Holt? I didn’t expect to see you here. We’ve never exactly had dealings with each other.”
Truthfully, the two of them had almost no connection at all.
Eaton looked directly at him. “You’re Theo’s father. There’s something I need from you.”
The mention of Theo caused a subtle shift in Lyndon’s expression. “Speak,” he replied calmly. “Though whether I answer is another matter.”
Anything involving Theo always made him cautious.
Eaton drew in a slow breath. “You took Theo’s remains, didn’t you? I need them. Give them to me.”
Lyndon burst into laughter the moment he heard that. “Wasn’t he cremated long ago? After all this time, why would I still have the body? What ridiculous story are you imagining?”
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