Chapter 475
Natalie's scornful expression made Susan feel like a coward. Despite the potential witnesses outside, Susan found the ring's appeal overwhelming.
When did she become so determined to displace Natalie as Mrs. Windsor, to surpass and eclipse her? When had this ambition taken root?
Perhaps it was from the moment their true identities became known to one another that Susan harbored such ambitions. She scrutinized Natalie's wheelchair, noting its size, which was larger than standard models, and the array of gadgets attached to its armrests. It made her wonder if there were any hidden functionalities.
Could Oliver have truly permitted Natalie to enter her room considering how much Natalie meant to him?
Feeling a surge of apprehension, Susan hastily put on Oliver's ring and seized a paring knife for defense. Her attention was solely on Natalie's ring, oblivious to the smile that crept across Natalie's face at the sight of the knife.
As Susan approached, Natalie pressed the reverse button, causing the wheelchair to retreat swiftly.
Acting on instinct, Susan quickened her pace, only to be taken by surprise when Natalie abruptly stopped.
The knife lightly grazed Natalie's arm, casting droplets of blood onto Susan's cheek. This jolted Susan back to her senses.
In the ensuing chaos, Natalie had fallen to the ground alongside her wheelchair, crashing into a vase intended for floral arrangements with a resounding noise.
"Natalie, what…"
Before Susan could complete her question, Oliver rushed in, finding Natalie in a heap on the floor, curled up in pain, while Susan stood in a state of shock, knife in hand and blood smeared across her face.
"Natalie!" Oliver immediately rushed to her side.
The paring knife slipped from Susan's hand, clattering to the floor.
Oliver lifted Natalie carefully, checking her for injuries as he asked urgently, "Where does it hurt? Tell me."
His voice betrayed a hint of panic, trembling slightly, and his eyes were slightly red.
"Natalie, speak to me!" Oliver said with a hint of desperation. He internally chastised himself for allowing her to enter alone.
Gazing into his eyes, Natalie managed to whisper, "My arm."
"Where?" Oliver, cautious not to exacerbate the injury, hesitated to adjust his grip on her arm.
Natalie, mustering her strength, lifted her arm to expose a bloody two-inch-long cut on her forearm.
"Susan, you..."
Mr. Hastings, overtaken by rage, trembled as he directed Samuel to check on Natalie.
As Samuel approached, prepared to examine the injury, Oliver roared, “Get lost!”
"Grandpa, it wasn’t me... Oliver, please believe me. I didn’t intend for this to happen, I swear..." Susan's voice was fraught with desperation. Alas, her pleas went unheard.
Samuel, biting back his frustration, stepped back, his eyes darting between the gash on Natalie's arm and the blood splatters on Susan's face.
The scene presented a stark, unsettling contrast.
"Fetch the first-aid kit," Samuel said grimly.
"Jamie!" Oliver called out in urgency.
Understanding the gravity of the situation, Jamie responded, "I’m on it. I'll bring the family doctor right away."
Though the Hastings family possessed considerable wealth and status, the mansion lacked a doctor on the premises.
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