Chapter 644 Your Son's Death Was an Accident!
The moment Ryder pushed Sarah's hand away and bolted, he knew she was hurt.
But something else gnawed at him—a deep uneasiness that had taken root the instant Donna showed him Saskia's social media post.
"Let's hope we're not too late," Ryder muttered as he and Donna rode the elevator to the top floor of the Phoenix Grand Hotel, armed with Alfonso and Saskia's room number, courtesy of a ten-thousand-dollar tip to hotel staff.
When the elevator doors slid open, a scream pierced the hallway: "Oh my god! Someone jumped! Someone jumped from the building!"
Jumped? From the eighteenth floor? That meant certain death. Could it be Saskia?
Ryder and Donna exchanged alarmed glances before rushing toward the commotion. Ryder grabbed a terrified staff member. "Was it room 1801? The jumper?"
The employee's lips trembled. "Y-yes... how did you know?"
"Was it the man or the woman?" Donna pressed urgently.
"T-the man. Wait, how do you know that?"
"We're classmates. And where's the woman?" Donna asked hurriedly.
"I see..." The employee's eyes widened as if suddenly remembering something horrifying. "I was called to the room and saw a woman covered in blood huddled in the corner. She's the one who told me someone had jumped."
---
When Ryder pushed open the door to room 1801, the metallic stench of blood hit him immediately. The floor-to-ceiling window was shattered, glass fragments scattered everywhere.
In the corner, curled up against the wall, sat a woman in a white dress stained with blood.
Saskia.
Just thirty minutes ago, she'd been fine. Now she looked like she'd been through hell.
She flinched when she noticed the door opening, then wrapped her arms around her head, screaming, "No! Don't come near me! Please stay away!"
Ryder could clearly see angry red marks on Saskia's exposed arms, some weeping tiny beads of blood. Rope burns? Whip marks? Sure enough, he spotted both items discarded in the corner.
Looking closer, the injuries on the rest of her exposed skin were even worse.
'That bastard Alfonso', was his first thought. But if Alfonso was the one who jumped... what exactly had happened in the last half hour?
Donna quickly draped her jacket over Saskia's shoulders. "It's okay," she soothed. "Everything will be alright now."
But Saskia continued screaming, pushing herself further away, clearly terrified beyond reason.
By the time Saskia finally calmed down thirty minutes later, the room had filled with people—hotel staff, police officers, and eventually Sarah and Owen.
Outside in the hallway, former classmates from the reunion gathered, waiting for news about Alfonso.
"I—I don't know what happened," Saskia sobbed as police began questioning her. "Alfonso said he liked... excitement. He was whipping me and getting really worked up about it."
Her voice trembled. "He made me lean against the window, saying something about the thrill of being exposed. I had just bent over when I heard him yell. When I looked up, the glass was broken and he was... gone."
She pointed to the shattered window where the curtains billowed eerily in the breeze.
"I never imagined the window would be so flimsy! I'm going to sue this hotel!" Her indignation was directed at the hotel, not Alfonso.
One officer shifted uncomfortably. "That's just your statement. Do you have any evidence? Since you were the only other person in the room, if you can't provide supporting evidence, we'll need to take you in for questioning."
"I do! I have video—it's on the phone by the bed." Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I usually record our... encounters. Will that help?"
"Yes, it will."
---
After reviewing all the evidence, including the damning video footage, the police ruled Alfonso's death an accident, placing the blame on the Phoenix Grand Hotel's faulty windows.
Almost everyone accepted this conclusion.
Everyone except Owen, who had come with Sarah hoping to see drama between her and Ryder—only to discover his son had died during extreme sexual activities with another woman.
"Alfonso!" Owen collapsed after watching the video, suddenly looking decades older than his fifty-some years.
Alfonso was his only child, his sole heir. And he absolutely refused to believe this was an accident.
"You whore! You killed my son!" Owen lunged at Saskia, slapping her repeatedly across the face until her pale cheeks swelled red. She stood frozen in shock, about to faint.
Ryder caught her in his arms, then kicked Owen to the ground with one swift motion.
"That's enough! The hotel admitted it was their faulty construction. Your son's death was an accident."
Cradling the unconscious Saskia, Ryder headed for the door.
In truth, he was one of the few people in the room who knew Alfonso's death wasn't an accident at all. But in this moment, he chose to protect this foolish woman.
When he connected all the dots, Ryder realized he owed Saskia far more than he'd thought.
"You'll pay for this! All of you!" Owen howled from the floor. "You'll pay with your lives!"
Hearing Owen's threats, Ryder couldn't help but think darkly: 'Perhaps Alfonso should have died three years ago.'
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