Chapter 458 Seven Years to Oneness—Body and Soul
The earth trembled as the storm gathered on the horizon.
Matthew had reigned from his pinnacle of power for decades, never once showing fear.
But in this moment, his eyes flashed with murderous intent.
It seemed that four years ago, Oliver had been holding back.
Matthew spoke slowly, "What if I don't let you leave? What if I say everyone here tonight stays permanently?"
The night wind howled, tousling Oliver's hair.
Standing in the dilapidated warehouse, he still radiated an unmistakable nobility. Meeting Matthew's deadly gaze directly, he pronounced each word with precision, "If I don't call my secretary within ten minutes, every copier at Windsor Group will work through the night. By morning... Nicholas's explicit photos will be plastered across the city. I wonder, Mr. Moore, can you handle that kind of shock?"
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Feel free to test my resolve, Mr. Moore! You've pushed me to this point and you question my courage? If I had more time, I would slaughter every last member of the Moore family tonight for what you've done."
"I'm not a gentleman who shows mercy to women. If that video plays again, I wouldn't hesitate to have the women of the Moore family—both old and young—stripped and violated publicly in the same manner! I keep my promises."
Matthew trembled with rage.
Aaron quickly produced heart medication, trying to calm him, "Mr. Windsor is just talking. He wouldn't actually do such things."
"I'm completely serious."
Matthew knew the tide had turned. He gently pushed Aaron aside, looked up at Oliver, and forced out a few words through gritted teeth, "You're really something!"
"Sarah has good taste in choosing me!"
Though shaking with fury, Matthew gestured for them to leave.
Oliver quickly untied Sarah's bonds.
Their eyes met in a moment of profound connection that transcended words.
He bent down, asking if she was alright, if she was hurt.
Sarah shook her head.
Oliver took her hand and walked straight toward the warehouse door, not sparing a glance for Matthew or his men. The warehouse's broken windows seemed to mirror Matthew's crumbling position.
Suddenly, Sarah tugged at Oliver's arm.
She looked toward Ellie lying in a pool of blood and whispered, "She's still alive. Take her with us."
Oliver's throat tightened with emotion.
After a moment, he strode toward Ellie. Seeing him approach through her tears, Ellie experienced what might be the most fulfilling moment of her life.
He had shown her mercy.
Even this small amount was enough.
Oliver lifted her and walked toward the exit.
At the rusted warehouse door, Sarah stood in the light, waiting for him.
At the hospital's VIP room, Ellie's wounds had been treated. Though serious, they weren't life-threatening.
The pristine white bed and immaculate room were luxuries she hadn't experienced in years.
Resting against soft pillows, she looked at the man standing beside her bed and weakly asked, "You're leaving... aren't you?"
Oliver nodded.
Looking at her haggard appearance, he said dispassionately, "Ellie, our debts are settled now. I've paid your medical bills. When you recover, start a new life somewhere else. Leave that profession behind."
From his pocket, he withdrew a bank card.
It contained twenty million dollars.
He left without asking about her circumstances these past four years, though he could guess she'd been deceived by men.
Ellie clutched the card.
Knowing his character, she understood his generosity wasn't small. Her entire body trembled.
Watching him leave, she felt despair, attachment, and the possibility of rebirth all at once. Suddenly breaking down in tears, she finally voiced what she'd kept hidden for years, "Oliver, I'm sorry! Please tell Sarah I'm sorry! I shouldn't have taken Jacob. I almost got him killed..."
Oliver offered the faintest smile.
He opened the door and walked out without a backward glance. His history with Ellie had become nothing more than distant memories.
At the end of the hallway, Sarah waited for him.
He walked toward her, stopping one step away, his blue eyes profound, "Sarah, let's go home."
In the car, they discovered bloodstains everywhere, including on Oliver's jacket. He removed it, tossed it inside, and led Sarah to catch the last public bus of the night.
Despite the late hour, the bus was crowded.
Oliver stood, holding Sarah close in his arms.
The night was ink-black.
In his crisp white shirt with wind-tousled hair, his height made him stand out dramatically. Several women on the bus stole glances at him, but his eyes were only for Sarah.
His gaze held infinite tenderness.
If his five years of wrongful imprisonment had filled him with bitterness, tonight—in this moment—he felt the universe had finally compensated him.
Sarah was his redemption.
They embraced amid the crowd, gazing at each other, their heartbeats gradually synchronizing.
They arrived home at one in the morning.
The mansion was fully lit. Jacob and Nicole were still awake, nestled on either side of Claire, who comforted them while speaking with Henry and Grace.
Oliver entered to find Henry and Grace waiting.
Claire explained, "After you left, Mr. Windsor, I was worried and called Ms. Windsor and Mr. Montague to consult... thank goodness you've returned."
The children joyfully called out "Daddy! Mommy!"
Claire sniffed the air, "I smell blood. What happened?"
Oliver patted her shoulder, "Mrs. Windsor and I haven't eaten. Please make some pasta... We witnessed a car accident on the way, but we're fine."
Claire went to the kitchen.
Henry and Grace weren't so easily fooled. Henry spoke quietly, "In Evergreen City, only Matthew would have such power."
Oliver didn't deny it.
Lifting Nicole and stroking her head, he remarked casually, "I didn't let him off easily either. After tonight, I'm probably the person he hates most."
Henry sipped his tea thoughtfully, "He's had his time in the sun."
Oliver kissed Nicole's cheek several times. Her soft skin made him linger.Her soft skin made him linger.
Nicole covered her face, embarrassed.
Oliver turned to Henry, his gaze unreadable, "Don't worry. I can handle him."
Henry and Grace were reassured.
They took their leave.
In their car, Grace leaned against the leather seat and observed softly, "Their relationship seems stronger than before. They appear to be doing well."
Henry turned to her, asking tenderly, "And what about us?"
He took her hand.
Grace smiled gently, "They're doing well, and so are we."
Late that night, the children slept side by side.
After tucking them in, Oliver went to the guest room and carried Sarah to the master bedroom.
The luxurious bed was draped in deep black sheets.
Oliver gently laid Sarah down. In her white robe with her long hair cascading over her slender shoulders, she possessed a fragile beauty.
Oliver brought the medical kit, knelt beside the bed, and took her delicate wrist to apply medicine.
Her slender wrist bore deep marks from the restraints.
Oliver asked softly, "Does it hurt?"
Sarah shook her head, "Not anymore."
After treating her wounds and lowering her sleeve, he looked up at her beautiful face, radiant under the crystal chandelier with a tranquil beauty. He asked, "Don't you want to know anything? Like what I said in the hospital room, or about the future..."
Sarah shook her head. "I don't need to know."
Oliver laughed softly.
He held her slender waist and began speaking earnestly about intimate matters.
Sarah realized his intent and playfully hit his shoulder, "Always returning to your favorite subject."
Her cheeks flushed hot.
Oliver gazed at her deeply, noting her shyness, "After all this time, you still blush?"
His voice grew husky as he gently touched her soft cheek.
Sarah turned away self-consciously, making Oliver's heart race. Without further hesitation, he showed her his love.
His name spilled from Sarah's lips, breathless and urgent, "Oliver… Oliver…"
After seven years, they finally became one in body and soul.
Afterward, he carried her to the bathroom.
The bathtub filled with warm water, Sarah rested in his arms, looking up at him.
Oliver's hair was slightly damp, his handsome features showing post-lovemaking satisfaction and relaxation, less severe than usual. He looked seven or eight years younger, like a man in his mid-thirties.
Sarah's delicate fingers traced his handsome face.
Oliver caught her playful hand, his blue eyes deep with the intimate affection of husband and wife...
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