Chapter 531 Without Regrets
Returning to the bedroom, Yvette found herself wheeled to the safe.
Albert watched her with curiosity, noting her tightly clasped hands and furrowed brow. "Hiding something valuable in there?" he asked softly, a smile playing on his lips.
Yvette hesitated. She still harbored some resentment toward Albert for his persistent disbelief in her. Yet during these torturous days, she had constantly yearned to reveal the truth to him. Steeling herself, she reached for the lock.
Just as her fingers touched the safe, BoBo and CiCi burst into the room.
"Mommy, Daddy! What are you doing?" CiCi exclaimed, wrapping herself around Albert's leg with a bright smile. "I want to play too!"
Yvette's hand froze.
BoBo frowned slightly, tugging at his sister's collar. "CiCi, we didn't come here to play," he said, his tone serious beyond his years.
CiCi suddenly remembered their purpose. She looked up at Albert, her eyes wide. "Daddy, our cake smells wonderful, but it's been baking for so long. Won't it burn soon?"
"Burn?" Albert's face crinkled in confusion. "Did one of the staff say it was burning?"
"No," CiCi explained earnestly. "But Seraphina says timing is the most important thing in baking. We can't eat it if it burns!"
Albert sighed, glancing from the children to Yvette, silently seeking her input.
Yvette recognized this was no longer the right moment. "Go ahead and check on their cake," she said with a smile. "Make sure their hard work hasn't gone to waste."
Albert raised an eyebrow. "And my gift?"
"I'll give it to you later," Yvette promised.
"Alright." Albert bent down and scooped up both children. "Let's go check on that cake."
As Albert carried the children away, Yvette took a deep breath and placed her hand on the safe's dial. She turned it carefully until a soft click signaled the door was unlocked.
Her heart raced as she stared at the envelope inside, removing it with trembling fingers. Opening it, she found the photographs of BoBo and CiCi as newborns—their tiny, innocent faces against a backdrop of Christmas decorations. These photos held her most precious evidence.
While Yvette hesitated, her phone suddenly rang. Clutching the photos in one hand, she answered.
"Ms. Orlando?" A hoarse, weak voice came through the line.
Yvette started. It was Clifford.
Since that day at the beach—when Clifford had collapsed and she had been captured—she hadn't seen him. She had occasionally wondered about his condition, but with her own life in jeopardy and Albert's hatred toward the Hayes family and David, contacting Clifford had been impossible.
Hearing his voice, knowing he was alive, brought her some relief.
"Mr. Hayes?" she asked. "Are you alright?"
Clifford coughed lightly. "I've managed to survive. Thank you for not abandoning me that day."
Yvette smiled. "I should be thanking you. You've always protected me as best you could—how could I abandon you?"
After a moment of silence, Clifford spoke again. "There was something I couldn't bring myself to say to your face that day. During those days I was unconscious, I regretted not telling you."
"What is it?" Yvette asked softly.
"I know my time is limited, and I don't want to leave with regrets." Clifford paused, his tone solemn. "Ms. Orlando, my feelings for you were genuine."
Yvette froze.
"You don't need to respond," Clifford continued, his voice revealing a sense of peace. "I just wanted you to know. It will make my passing easier when that day comes."
Yvette lowered her eyes, remembering their conversation at the beach.
"So what exactly happened to us?" she had asked Clifford, her eyes filled with a desperate need to know. "Why all the medications and IVs?"
"I'm sorry," Clifford had replied, his face etched with guilt and remorse. "You wouldn't be in this situation if my parents hadn't forced you to be their test subject."
"I just want to know what's wrong with us," Yvette had said earnestly. "The drug trials were your parents' doing. I just hope you'll tell me everything you know."
Clifford had nodded. "My parents kept me in the dark too, but I could move freely around the island and saw many documents. From what I gathered, we were likely poisoned by heavy metal radiation from the explosion. There's limited research on this particular substance, and no established treatment, so they've been medicating based on our symptoms..."
Yvette had understood then. Without a true cure, they kept testing drugs on her to spare Clifford's already weakened body from the harsh hormonal treatments that merely suppressed symptoms.
She had pressed her lips together, saying nothing.
"I'm truly sorry," Clifford had said, looking into her eyes. "If I ever get the chance, I'll find a way to make it up to you, though I know that's nearly impossible."
"You don't need to apologize—your parents do," Yvette had replied firmly. "If not for you, I probably would have died in that explosion. You saved my life."
Clifford had opened his mouth then, emotion in his eyes, but had held back.
Now Yvette understood—he had wanted to express his feelings even then.
Clifford's deep exhale brought her back to the present.
"Mr. Hayes," she said, "I hope we both live a little longer."
"Yes, let's both try," Clifford replied, his voice lighter now, tinged with a smile.
Yvette looked down at the photographs that could prove everything. Her fingertips had turned white from gripping them so tightly.
She made her decision. Regardless of whether Albert would believe her this time, even with evidence, she had to try.
Like Clifford, her time was limited—she couldn't leave with regrets.
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