Chapter 493 Tonight's Incident Is My Reply
The hospital corridor stretched endlessly before them.
The night breeze cut through, chilling to the bone despite it being New Year's Eve—a time meant for celebration and family reunions.
Nicholas was in emergency care.
The entire Moore family waited outside, their faces etched with anxiety. They genuinely feared Nicholas might slip away and finally find his freedom.
Aaron arrived shortly after.
He helped Matthew into a seat and asked with confusion, "How could there be allergens in such a secure environment? Did the guards miss something?"
Under the fluorescent lights, Matthew's face was unreadable.
Aaron understood immediately.
'Oliver again,' he thought.
In the midst of this tension, Matthew's phone rang.
Glancing at the caller ID, Matthew answered, his voice bitter and venomous, "He finally gets out of prison and instead of enjoying a family reunion, he calls me in the middle of the night. What for?"
"Congratulations," Oliver's voice dripped with sarcasm. "I've been blessed with such a wonderful wife, thanks to you, Matthew! Didn't you recently ask for my response? Well, tonight's incident is my answer!"
Matthew's eyelid twitched uncontrollably.
Despite his years of experience navigating difficult situations, he couldn't withstand Oliver's provocation. He lost his composure, hurling his phone against the opposite wall.
It shattered instantly.
Aaron quickly tried to calm him, urging him to mind his health. Isabella sat nearby, lost in her grief, any respect or affection she once held for Matthew now completely extinguished. Vaughn, witnessing yet another family crisis, felt his heart breaking.
In just six months, the once-harmonious Moore family had disintegrated into chaos.
Back at the mansion, Oliver smiled coldly.
He could easily imagine Matthew's rage and loss of control.
Ending the call, he returned to the bedroom, carefully lifted the covers, and slipped into bed, gently cradling Sarah in his arms. Her body was delicate and soft, with only her belly showing a slight curve—home to his precious daughter.
Oliver lowered his head to kiss her stomach.
Early morning, New Year's Day.
Oliver awoke early, lying in bed gazing down at the gentle woman in his arms. Outside, firecrackers popped and crackled like boiling water.
Inside their bedroom, however, all was peaceful.
Unable to resist, he bent down to wake Sarah with a kiss, then held her close as she stirred. His voice husky, he said, "I was too caught up in last night's pleasures to give you your gift. Sarah, call me 'darling' and I'll give it to you."
Sarah's cheeks flushed crimson.
He was always so playful—over forty and still so mischievous.
She felt too embarrassed to comply.
Oliver, unsatisfied, wouldn't let her off so easily. He playfully pinned her beneath him, teasing her with light touches, refusing to give her satisfaction until she said the words he wanted to hear.
Sarah was reaching her limit.
Besides, she truly wanted him.
Just as she was about to give in, Nicole crawled from under the bed and climbed up, affectionately throwing her arms around Oliver. "I'll call you 'darling' too, Daddy! Darling, give me my present!"
This was too much!
Oliver turned, pulling Nicole into his arms.
He covered his eyes with one hand, his chest shaking with suppressed laughter, while his other hand quietly found Sarah's. His voice was low and tender, "I'll take her to the bathroom. She needs to use the toilet."
"I don't want to poop," Nicole protested.
"No, but you do," he insisted.
With that, Oliver efficiently got out of bed and carried Nicole to the bathroom, setting her on the toilet.
As soon as the bathroom door closed behind them,
He returned to the bed, pressing Sarah against the mattress, kissing her passionately.
In the heat of the moment, his voice grew husky, "Happy New Year, Sarah!"
Three days later, Nicholas was transferred to Westlake General Hospital for treatment.
His wife Hestia was nowhere to be seen—not because she was caring for Isaac, but because she was lost in a haze of pleasure with her lover.
Isabella came to visit.
She peeled an apple by Nicholas's bedside, hesitating several times.
Finally, she said to Nicholas, "Hestia's gotten herself into trouble recently. She's developed real feelings for another man who borrowed 60 million dollars from her for business ventures."
"It's shocking she was so careless, lending him such a sum."
"I heard there were subsequent transactions of 20 million and 30 million dollars. These add up to a significant amount! She didn't dare touch the Moore family's money, so she used her own. She's practically broke now."
Nicholas remained completely indifferent.
Seeing his reaction, Isabella realized there truly was no affection left between them.
She sighed softly, "Once Isaac recovers and you're released, you should finalize the divorce. The Moore family has wronged her, and we should compensate her fairly. If you're short on funds, I can provide them. We shouldn't leave her feeling abandoned."
Nicholas remained silent.
Isabella guessed his thoughts and said no more.
At the doorway, a nurse appeared with a tray, smiling as she announced, "Mr. Nicholas Moore, the examination room is ready for your lung CT scan."
Nicholas nodded slightly.
Isabella helped him out of bed, shocked at how thin he felt under her touch. As a mother, she couldn't help but feel heartbroken. She silently blamed Matthew's selfishness and shortsightedness—if not for his cruelty years ago, would Nicholas have ended up like this?
The hospital gown hung loosely on Nicholas's frame.
Several guards escorted him to the CT room.
People passing by couldn't help but stare curiously. Nicholas had long since grown indifferent to such scrutiny. He was merely going through the motions of living, unsure why he continued to exist at all.
In the corridor behind him stood a pregnant woman.
It was Azalea.
Zoey had accompanied her for a prenatal checkup, and they happened to encounter Nicholas heading for his CT scan. After all this time, she finally saw him again.
This time, she was no longer the delicate, refined Azalea he had known.
And he was no longer the man he once was.
They had both fallen so far.
Azalea watched his retreating figure, noting his emaciated frame. She remembered how, during their intimate moments, she had felt his warm skin and perfectly proportioned muscles beneath her palms. Now he was nothing but a shadow of that man.
Without realizing it, Azalea's eyes filled with tears.
Zoey returned with the prenatal report. She too noticed Nicholas, and after a moment of surprise, gently said to Azalea, "The baby is perfectly healthy. The driver is waiting downstairs."
Azalea softly agreed.
She took one last look at Nicholas's back before leaving with Zoey.
Just as Azalea departed, Nicholas, as if sensing something, suddenly turned around, but she was already gone.
In the empty corridor, her perfume lingered—along with nothing but regret.
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