Chapter 555 The Demand
"Where have you hidden Oscar?" Winnie's hand dropped from her chest, pressing firmly against the table.
"Does it matter where he is?"
Ishara flashed a contented smile. "The thing is, neither you nor Lawrence could find him. You've tried everything, but you won't find any evidence of the kidnapping. Because everything was set up in Lymington, I orchestrated it perfectly to take your son away from Darcy. I completely shattered the bond between you and Lawrence. You discovered it all too late. The evidence has already been destroyed. Your baseless speculations can't touch me. As long as I don't confess to taking your son, even if you drag me to the police station, I'll walk right back out."
"What do you want, exactly? Surely, you can't mean to take the life of a helpless child. What do you want from me?" Winnie's voice was cold as she spoke. She had called her here and was bold enough to risk admitting to the abduction of Oscar. Winnie understood that Ishara had an ulterior motive.
The smile crept at the corners of Ishara's lips. "Winnie, you never disappoint me with your quick wits. Now, you know that saving your son is entirely up to you. If you depend on Lawrence, you’ll never get him back. How can you rely on a man who’s divided in his intentions, a man who got your sister pregnant?”
Winnie ignored the piercing mockery, waiting for her to continue.
Ishara pulled a photo from her bag and held it up, her smirk spreading contagiously. “This is your Oscar.”
Winnie’s eyes widened, her vision momentarily clouded by a mist. The face in the photo was Oscar’s. Her maternal instincts were spot-on. Oscar looked thin, his dark eyes still shining with spirit, but he was weak. He lay on a white hospital bed. Tubes inserted into his nostrils, his head wrapped in bandages, his gaze cold and confused, like a trapped little animal unable to struggle any longer.
Winnie surged to her feet, her maternal despair propelling her towards Ishara. “You monster, what have you done to my child?”
Ishara stepped back, the cold mask of her face wet from droplets. She could bear Winnie’s outburst because she knew she could break her.
Bodyguards stepped forward, pushing Winnie away and shielding Ishara behind them.
Ishara’s voice floated serenely. “I didn’t do much. I just had someone perform a little surgery, the kind that reduces intelligence and wipes memories. But your son—he’s too clever, a brilliant little prodigy. The surgery didn’t quite work on him!”
“Ishara, I’m going to kill you. I swear I’ll kill you!” Winnie roared, trembling all over, her eyes aflame with a fierce intent to throttle Ishara.
Her heart ached as if slashed by a knife, and she charged forward in a frenzy, swinging her fists wildly.
“Settle down!” The bodyguard shoved her away forcefully.
Winnie stumbled and collided with the table.
Ishara peeked from behind the bodyguard, her eyes glinting with a mocking smile. “Can’t handle it, can you? Winnie, where was I? Oh, the surgery wasn’t very effective. So, I’ve decided to operate on Oscar again. Not just to crack open his skull and turn him into an imbecile, a child with no memory, but if you don’t satisfy me, I could just as well leave him crippled, a boy with a mangled limb.”
“If you dare touch him again, I swear I’ll make sure you, that bastard inside of you, and your whole family turn to dust. Ishara, mark my words.” Winnie threatened, rage filling her eyes as her heart quivered uncontrollably, the pain overwhelming her.
Ishara, that deranged woman, had indeed subjected her son to surgery.
“You torture Oscar, and Lawrence will never let you off the hook, ever. He’ll send you to hell, Ishara. Your end is near.”
Ishara’s face paled slightly, but she quickly burst into laughter, “Once your son’s head is stitched up, who’ll know he ever had surgery? Kidnapping mishaps, turning into an idiot, it happens. Do you really think you can tell Lawrence, and he will tear me limb from limb? No, Bob won’t let him touch a hair on my head because what I carry is precious to him. Winnie, you’re powerless. You should know I’m well-versed in medicine; I can think of a thousand ways to torment your son. If you don’t want his head cut open again, turning him completely into a fool, if you don’t want him maimed, then agree to my terms.”
Winnie’s nails dug into her flesh as she gazed mournfully at the photo in Ishara’s hand.
“Enough with the games! Lay out your terms,” she demanded, her tone resolute.
"Lawrence will announce to the press he intends to marry someone else. He wants you, but I won't let that happen. What I want is for you to agree to date Rock. That man is head over heels for you. You make a a suitable pair. Marry Rock quickly. Before I tie the knot with Lawrence, you two should have your wedding. Only then I'll spare your son." Ishara's face was a mask of dark intentions.
Winnie's forehead creased with deep, cold furrows.
"We're hesitating, aren’t we?" Ishara asked, "Is your son's life less important than your happiness? I want Lawrence to give up on you completely.
"So, he must despise you to the very depths of his being." Her voice pierced the air, tinged with a mocking torment. Winnie comprehended. She was deliberately inflicting anguish upon her.
Ishara appealed to her emotionally, "You and Lawrence have been tangled up, and now there's a baby. Don't you want to break free from him? By marrying Rock and becoming his wife, Lawrence won't spare you a second glance. Once the dust settles and I marry Lawrence, I'll release Oscar. You can take your two children and leave Trento City forever. Disappear from under Lawrence's watchful eye. I know that with your pride, you cannot endure his philandering while he refuses to let go of you. It's like imprisonment. I'm thinking of you. Isn't my solution a good one?"
Winnie's voice was as cold as ice as she spoke, "You kidnap my son and then offer his release as if it's charity to me? What gives you the audacity? Ishara, you'll meet a wretched end. Oscar is Lawrence's flesh and blood. Dare to touch his son again and think of the consequences. Marry him? You are delusional. Before that happens, I'll have you behind bars. So, I advise you, if you don't want to end up utterly destroyed, release my son now."
"It is I who dictates the terms, not you," Ishara retorted, steadfast in her refusal to be cowed. "I'm fully cognizant of the ramifications of abducting Oscar. Yet, even in the face of my own downfall, I won't let you off lightly. Do you believe I lack the resolve to harm your son? You are sorely mistaken. Before you condemn me to incarceration, your son will endure unimaginable suffering, possibly even unto death. Test me if you dare. I will commence by shattering his limbs, rendering his existence a fate worse than death. I possess a laboratory where I can orchestrate all manner of horrors."
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