Chapter 156
Sullivan was head over heels for Megan. He cared deeply for her.
Cressida, on the other hand, had lost it completely
Ripping off her IV line, her frail hands bled, but she couldn’t care less. Her face contorted with rage as she said, “If it weren’t for your mother, it should’ve been me you were marrying! Sullivan, do you really think she just orchestrated that accident? No, she did much more! She arranged for me to many a brutish man, a wife–beater… a man who beat me so badly I ended up in the hospital with internal bleeding. It was too late; I lost my ability to have children. I became barren, while Megan, Mrs. Lowry, was pampered and kept like a princess ct home. Is it so wrong that I’m jealous, that I feel wronged? From the beginning, she’s had everything that should’ve been mine. The title of Mrs. Lowry was meant for me.”
She was trembling as she spoke. Muttering to herself, she questioned, “What did I do to deserve this?”
Sullivan watched her in silence.
After a moment, he tumed and opened the window, letting the night breeze in to clear the stench of blood in the room. Behind him, Cressida coughed violently from the draft.
But Sullivan didn’t tum around.
He stared at the laurel tree outside, his voice hoarse, “I’ll give you 50 million and arrange for you to get treatment abroad. From now on… neither you nor your parents should ever come back to Borough City.”
Sullivan made his decision and left without lingering.
As he walked out of the room, Cressida sat on the bed, crying out his name, but he didn’t look back.
After a while, Bianca came in and handed Cressida a check.
Cressida was shaking as she asked, “Why is he treating me this way?”
Bianca was silent for a moment before giving her an answer, “To be loved so passionately by someone in three years of marriage, even the hardest of hearts would soften. Ms. Baldwin, if you’re smart, you’ll take the money and give your parents a comfortable retirement.”
As Blanca left, she sighed.
Sullivan didn’t understand love, but he must have… fallen for Megan.
Sullivan had just descended the stairs when he saw a luxurious black sedan parked below, its window halfway down.
Inside sat his mother, Camilla.
The night wind was brisk, and the look between mother and son was alien and cold.
After a moment, Sullivan approached, opened the door, and/sat next to her.
He stared ahead, his voice restrained, “You brought Megan into my life, only to set up this tragic act with Cressida to make me feel guilty for life. Is it because of Percy? Because you couldn’t win my father’s heart, you didn’t want me to be happy either? Mom, what am I to you?”
Camilla’s demeanor was haughty. “Emotions are the most useless thing!”
She turned to her son and said, “I know you’re fond of Megan. Pampering her is enough, but just don’t get emotionally involved!”
“It’s too late!”
Sullivan stared at her opulent face, emphasizing each word, “I love her! She’s the one for me! The way I felt when she walked out the door with her suitcase it was exactly how you must have felt watching Percy leave!”
“Sullivan!” Camilla was shaking with rage, but Sullivan just opened the car door and stepped out.
Dressed in an expensive suit, his expression was cold and aristocratic. He lit a cigarette in the wind, the thin smoke barely leaving his lips before being torn apart by the night breeze… just like the path he had taken in life, every step was fraught with danger.
If he hadn’t been ruthless, if he had shown any sign of weakness, how could he have made it to where he was today?
