Chapter 547 The Death of Victor
Emma's eyes welled up with tears as she shook her head at Everett. "Everett, this is too risky. I can't let you go through with it."
Everett gently patted her hand. "Mrs. Murphy, you should head back to your room and get some rest. Mr. Murphy still needs you."
With that, Everett quickly turned and headed downstairs, calling out to the servants in the living room. "Can't you see Mr. Murphy's drunk? Go make some soup, quick!"
The servants scrambled to prepare the soup, draw a bath, and get fresh clothes ready.
Emma stood by the window for a moment before turning and heading back upstairs to her room.
Everett watched as everyone busied themselves. When no one was paying attention, he glanced up at the second-floor window.
It was empty, with only the wind gently lifting the sheer curtains.
He exhaled softly, as if making a firm decision.
Time passed, and suddenly a woman's scream echoed from the direction of the master bedroom on the third floor. The scream was filled with terror.
"Help! Someone, help!"
The servants in the castle were all startled awake.
Everett, who had been lying on his bed fully dressed, immediately opened his eyes and sat up.
He didn't turn on the light, instead feeling his way to the door and pressing his ear against the frame to listen to the commotion outside.
After a moment, Everett opened the door, pretending to button his shirt as he rushed towards Victor's bedroom.
"Mrs. Murphy, what's wrong with Mr. Murphy?"
Victor's bedroom door was wide open. He lay on the bed, convulsing, his limbs twitching, and his head thrown back.
His wife, Emma, sat on the edge of the bed, her clothes disheveled, her face pale with fear.
Everett rushed in, took one look at Victor's condition, and immediately scolded the maid in the room. "Mr. Murphy's in this state, and you haven't called the family doctor yet?"
The maid, trembling, knelt down. "Everett, the doctor has already been called."
Everett, now appearing calm, approached Emma and whispered, "Mrs. Murphy, there are too many people here. You should go and straighten your clothes before coming back to take charge."
Emma glanced at her sheer nightgown, blushing. "Alright. I'll be right back."
Everett's voice lowered further. "Where's your daughter?"
Emma stood up, adjusting her hair. "With the nanny."
Everett remained expressionless, standing by the bed, unmoving.
The doctor arrived quickly and began examining Victor, preparing tools to induce vomiting.
Gerald, disturbed by the commotion, also arrived.
His eyes were filled with a mix of anger and shock as he demanded, "Who was responsible for taking care of Victor tonight?"
Emma, having changed her clothes, was walking over and froze at his words. "Dad, why are you here?"
Gerald glared at her. "If I hadn't come, my only son would be dead!"
Emma fell to her knees. "Dad, I was the one taking care of Victor tonight. I changed his clothes and fed him the soup. Is there something wrong?"
Gerald sat on the sofa in the outer room, waving her off. "Get up. I was just asking. You've taken care of Victor for so many years, always doing your best."
Emma slowly stood, tears still in her eyes.
"Dad, I'm sorry for waking you up so late. It's our fault."
Gerald sighed. "You didn't want this to happen. I'm not blaming you. Victor never could handle his liquor, yet he drank so recklessly. Once this is over, you should talk to him about it."
Emma nodded. "Yes, Dad."
Her brow furrowed, looking troubled.
Gerald frowned. "What's wrong now?"
"Dad, you know Victor isn't home much. Even if I tell him to stop drinking, he might not listen."
Gerald sighed. "Victor has his reasons. He has to go out and expand the business, which means socializing over drinks. Just talk to him, ask him to take care of himself and drink less."
Emma nodded. "Yes, Dad."
Gerald walked into the inner room where the doctor had stopped inducing vomiting.
"Doctor, how is my son?"
The family doctor regretfully said, "Mr. Gerald Murphy, I'm sorry to inform you that Mr. Victor Murphy has passed away."
Gerald couldn't believe it. The room seemed to spin, and he nearly collapsed. His bodyguard quickly caught him.
"Mr. Murphy!"
Gerald's eyes widened. "Doctor, Victor was just drunk. How could he die from that?"
The family doctor bowed. "Mr. Gerald Murphy, acute alcohol poisoning can be fatal. Mr. Victor Murphy's symptoms suggest acute alcohol intoxication. However, I noticed he also had opisthotonos. If you want to confirm the cause of death, you could request an autopsy."
Gerald repeated, "Autopsy? Doctor, are you saying Victor didn't die from alcohol poisoning?"
"Mr. Gerald Murphy, I can't be certain of Mr. Victor Murphy's cause of death. The autopsy is just a suggestion. Whether to proceed is up to you."
Gerald slumped on the sofa, waving the doctor away. "Doctor, thank you for coming tonight. The rest is a family matter, not suitable for outsiders."
Family doctor quickly packed his medical bag and left.
Gerald stood up, swaying slightly. The bodyguard stayed close, subtly supporting him.
Gerald instructed, "Emma, go change Victor's clothes. Make sure he leaves with dignity."
Emma's face, already pale, turned even whiter.
She lowered her head and hurried to the wardrobe to get Victor's clothes.
At Cordelia's residence.
In the guest room, Michael's phone screen lit up. He picked it up and saw a message from an unknown number.
[Victor is dead.]
Almost instinctively, Michael knew it was from Nolan.
He quietly got up, dressed, and stood by the window, looking out at the Murphy Castle shrouded in darkness.
Victor's quarters were in the castle's left wing, separate from where he and Cordelia lived.
Though they all lived in the same castle, Gerald had ensured each family's yard and entrance were independent.
The rooms within the castle didn't connect, except for a shared main entrance at the outermost part of the castle.
Nolan said Victor was dead, so Victor must be dead.
But Nolan initially said he was just going to teach Victor a lesson. How did it end up with Victor dead?
Could something have gone wrong?
Michael's brow furrowed deeply.
Victor was Gerald's only son, his last hope. Now that Victor was dead, Gerald would likely go mad.
He would definitely investigate Victor's death and seek revenge.
Michael clenched his fists. He had to protect his own son too.
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