Chapter 590 Murder
George took a deep breath and pulled a manila envelope from the inside pocket of his suit. "I need to talk to you alone."
Michael's face went pale. "Emma, everything he says is an insult to Seraphine's memory!"
"Leave." Emma's voice was soft but carried undeniable authority. "Everyone, leave."
Sophia cast a worried glance at Emma, but eventually led Michael out of the hospital room. The door closed with a click, leaving only the steady beeping of the monitor.
George slowly knelt by the bedside and placed the manila envelope in Emma's trembling hands. "Open it."
Emma's fingers shook as she tore open the envelope. Her breath caught when her eyes landed on the bold letters of the first page: "Paternity Test Report."
"What is this?" Her voice was shattered.
"The night before you faked your death," George's voice was low and pained. "I forced myself on you. Seraphine is my daughter."
The report clearly stated: DNA comparison shows a 99.9999% match between George and Seraphine.
"No way!" Emma hurled the document at George. "Seraphine is Michael's daughter! What kind of sick game are you playing?"
George didn't flinch as the papers hit his face. "Michael altered all the records. He took advantage of your confused state after the car accident to make you believe Seraphine was his child."
"Get out!" Emma grabbed the water cup from the bedside table and threw it at George. "You killed Seraphine, and now you want to tarnish her identity?"
The glass shattered against George's temple, blood trickling down his face. He remained motionless, his bloodshot eyes fixed on Emma.
"I would rather die than hurt Seraphine." His voice was choked with emotion.
The door burst open, and Michael stormed in with security guards. "Get this lunatic out of here!"
Two guards grabbed George and dragged him out, his suit disheveled as he struggled. "Emma! Seraphine is my daughter! I wouldn't lie to you!"
Michael punched George in the stomach. "Shut up, you murderer!"
As George was dragged out of the room, the last thing he saw was Emma's broken, tear-streaked face and the fleeting, sinister smile on Michael's lips.
The cold tiles of the hospital corridor pressed against George's burning cheek. He slumped onto a bench, replaying every detail in his mind: Michael's odd reaction to "Anna," Sophia's hesitant expression, and the diamond bracelet that should have been buried with Anna.
"Something's not right. None of this is right." He muttered to himself, pulling out his phone to dial a number. "I need you to investigate something."
As night fell, George stood on the hospital rooftop, the wind tousling his hair. The voice of his private investigator came through the phone. "Mr. Russell, I found something. The bracelet was indeed missing when Anna was buried. But..."
"But what?"
"Anna was cremated. We can't verify if it was really her."
George's grip on the phone tightened. All the clues pointed to a horrifying possibility: this was a meticulously planned revenge. And Seraphine, his beloved daughter, was the most innocent victim.
George gazed at the distant city lights, tears silently falling. He gently touched the photo of Seraphine on his phone, her last smile frozen in time.
"Daddy will get justice for you," he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with steely resolve. "Everyone who hurt you will pay."
The night wind lifted his coat, as if Seraphine's spirit was responding to him.
In the police station's interrogation room, under the harsh fluorescent lights, sat a burly middle-aged man. He shook his leg, nonchalantly admitting, "Yeah, I kidnapped the girl. She was pretty, could fetch a good price."
George stood behind the one-way glass, his fists clenched tight.
This so-called "kidnapper," Nathaniel, was a regular at the station, previously jailed for child trafficking—a repeat offender.
"Mr. Russell, the case is closed." A young officer handed over the case file. "The suspect confessed, and the evidence is solid."
George sneered, his knuckles rapping against the glass.
He didn't believe it!
Outside the police station, a black Mercedes idled in the shadows. The window rolled down slightly, and Michael's cold voice emerged. "Keep your mouth shut. I've arranged for your daughter's surgery."
Nathaniel hunched over, nodding obsequiously. "Mr. Russell, don't worry. I'll keep up the act." He rubbed his hands together, lowering his voice. "But the girl kept calling for her dad before she died. It sounded like..."
"Shut up!" Michael grabbed him by the throat. "Remember, you never saw me." He slapped a wad of cash against Nathaniel's face.
At the private jet terminal, Anna's fingers were white as she clutched her boarding pass. Michael pushed her suitcase toward her, his voice laced with warning. "Go back to Sunterra, fix your face, and stay out of Lakeside Haven's business."
"Why?" Anna suddenly grabbed his sleeve. "I've done so much dirty work for you, and now you're just throwing me away?"
Michael pried her fingers off one by one, whispering in her ear. "Because you're too stupid. You couldn't even frame someone properly." He patted her pale face. "You left that bracelet on purpose, didn't you?"
In Michael's mansion, the studio reeked of paint. Emma mechanically smeared colors on the canvas, surrounded by unfinished portraits of Seraphine. Her bony fingers were stained with paint, her wrist bones jutting out alarmingly.
"Emma, have some soup." Celeste's hands trembled as she held the bowl. The soup had been reheated three times, forming a greasy film on top.
Emma seemed oblivious, suddenly grabbing a palette knife and slashing the canvas. "No, the eyes aren't right." She muttered to herself, paint dripping like blood.
Celeste stood in the hallway shadows, watching Michael gently drape a blanket over Emma. The tenderness in his touch as he brushed her shoulder made Celeste's heart ache.
"Michael." She mustered the courage to hand him the documents. "These need your signature."
Michael didn't look up. "Leave them there." His gaze remained fixed on Emma, his voice impossibly gentle. "Emma, tomorrow I'll take you to the new dessert shop. You used to love..."
Celeste bit her lip hard.
Why was the man she loved so devoted to someone else?
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