Chapter 473 Accompanying Dad
Lucas hesitated.
He was acutely aware of his surroundings, first glancing at the unconscious Emma, then at George, who lay injured on a stretcher. For a kid his age, he showed an impressive level of maturity. He knew Emma needed immediate medical attention, but deep down, he didn't want to leave George's side.
Michael squinted, scrutinizing Lucas as if trying to read his mind, thinking, 'What are you waiting for? Get on board!'
Lucas still hesitated.
He looked at George on the stretcher, his eyes filled with reluctance and worry. Finally, he made an incredibly difficult decision. "I want to stay with Dad."
Michael seemed a bit surprised. He shot Lucas a cold glance.
"Are you sure?"
Lucas nodded firmly, his young face full of determination. "I want to take care of Dad."
"Then so be it," Michael said. "You all stay."
Michael coldly issued orders to the Stuart family's bodyguards, a hint of displeasure in his eyes.
Like father, like son—loyalty was a foreign concept to that bloodline.
The medical team carefully lifted Emma onto the helicopter. They first laid out the stretcher, then used professional medical straps to secure her, ensuring she wouldn't be harmed during the bumpy flight.
Michael stayed close to Emma, his long fingers gently caressing her pale cheek. He sat beside her, his gaze intense, as if willing her to be safe through sheer force of will.
He carefully adjusted Emma's position to ensure she was as comfortable as possible.
As the helicopter slowly ascended, Michael watched the scenery below through the window. The beach, the battlefield, the ruins—all gradually receded into the distance.
On the ground, Lucas looked up, tears welling in his eyes. The six-year-old stood as straight as he could, not wanting to appear weak. As the helicopter flew higher and farther, his gaze never left the helicopter carrying Emma.
"Mom," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.
At that moment, George, still unconscious on the stretcher, seemed to sense something. His brow twitched slightly, as if he felt Emma's departure. A solitary tear slipped from his closed eye, silently expressing an indescribable longing and sorrow.
Lucas turned his head and saw the tear on George's face, feeling the profound sadness emanating from him.
In her unconscious state, Emma felt a spinning sensation and then entered a twisted dream. She opened her eyes to find herself on a dark deck, the salty sea breeze mixed with a suffocating fear. Her heart pounded like a war drum, foretelling something ominous.
Black Shark suddenly appeared, a sly smile on his face. He grabbed Emma's chin with his rough hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. The sunlight behind him highlighted his silhouette, making her feel a sense of despair through her blurred vision.
"You're mine," he declared in an indisputable tone.
Just then, George emerged from the shadows, his posture still upright but his face cold and emotionless. His eyes were cold and expressionless, revealing no hint of feeling.
"Mr. Russell, having second thoughts? Or are you just reluctant?" Black Shark asked menacingly, his knife glinting coldly, reflecting Emma's helpless expression.
"No second thoughts. She's yours," George's voice was indifferent, devoid of warmth.
Emma's heart stopped. She couldn't believe her ears.
"George, why are you doing this? How could you give me to someone like him?"
A wave of intense heartache hit her, making it hard to breathe.
Time seemed to freeze in the dream. Tears fell from her eyes, creating ripples at the pirate's feet. She desperately wanted to rush to George, to tell him of her love and unwillingness, but invisible chains held her in place.
"You're not worth saving," George's voice carried a hint of disdain. He turned and walked towards Anna, whose familiar face now exuded a suffocating beauty.
Anna smirked, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Emma, you're just a pathetic substitute. Compared to me, you don't even qualify."
Despair choked Emma's voice, rendering her silent. She couldn't believe the man who had braved dangerous seas to save her could so heartlessly hand her over.
"Let me go!" she screamed, but her voice was small and helpless.
Black Shark suddenly grabbed her wrist, dragging her roughly into the darkness.
"Goodbye, Emma," George's voice faded, like a final farewell, leaving her with nothing but endless shadows and pain.
Emma struggled desperately, trying to escape the pirate's grip. But her strength was insignificant against his.
She looked back to see George unmoved, kissing Anna passionately, as if the world no longer needed her. The illusion of that moment cut through her heart like a knife.
"Let me out! You can't do this to me!" But Black Shark dragged her deeper, leaving only George and Anna's figures in her vision, accompanied by their cruel laughter.
"You're not worth saving," George's voice was merciless, stabbing at her heart.
"I'm not a substitute!" Emma screamed, her voice filled with despair and anger. But the only response was Black Shark's cruel laughter and the deafening roar of the waves, as if the whole world was mocking her helplessness.
Despair overwhelmed her completely, consuming her entirely.
Meanwhile, in the real world, Michael stood by the large, bright window of the psychologist's office, his gaze deep as he looked out at the gray cityscape. Across from him, psychologist Armando Gomez frowned, scrutinizing the suspicious visitor.
The clouds outside mirrored the tense atmosphere inside.
"Mr. Russell, I absolutely cannot accept such an absurd request," Armando said sternly, his tone filled with professional ethical resolve. "This is clearly an extremely unethical and potentially severely traumatizing illegal act."
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