Chapter 614 Frank and Open
Mia gasped, "How is this even possible?"
"Nothing's impossible," Emma said, rubbing her coffee cup. "He cares way too much about that little girl from Dreamscape Peak."
Just then, Mia's phone rang.
"What? Grandma's in the ICU?" She grabbed her coat, panic in her eyes. "Emma, I need to get back to Lakeside Haven right now."
Emma quickly shoved a credit card into her bag. "Take my private jet."
"No need," George appeared at the door, holding car keys. "I've already contacted the expert team at Evergreen Hospital. The helicopter will be on the rooftop in five minutes."
Mia gave him a complicated look before hugging Emma tightly. "Once I handle my family stuff, you owe me an explanation!"
In the morning light, Emma watched the helicopter disappear into the distance, only to be pulled into a warm embrace. George rested his chin on her head. "This time, I'll be the one waiting."
With Mia gone, Emma and George finally had some time alone. They strolled through the streets, sunlight filtering through the leaves of the sycamore trees, casting dappled shadows.
"Are you hungry?" George asked, turning to look at her, his eyes filled with undeniable tenderness.
Emma was about to respond when her phone buzzed. She glanced down to see a message from Mia:
"Emma, urgent matter, come to 23 St. Louis Island."
"What's wrong?" George noticed her hesitation.
"Mia needs me," Emma frowned. "She says it's urgent."
George's eyes darkened. "I'll go with you."
"No, Mia doesn't want to see you. I'll go alone. You head back to the hotel."
"Emma, you'll come back, right?"
"Maybe."
St. Louis Island was one of the oldest neighborhoods in Silverlight City, with narrow cobblestone streets flanked by Renaissance-era buildings. Number 23 was a modest gray villa with a wrought-iron gate tightly shut.
"Strange," Emma pressed the doorbell. "Why would Mia arrange to meet here?"
The door suddenly opened automatically, revealing a pitch-black interior with no light at all.
Emma instinctively resisted.
But just then, a screeching brake sound came from behind. A black van screeched to a halt by the roadside, and several masked men jumped out, rushing straight at her!
Emma tried to run, but she was a step too slow. Someone covered her mouth and nose, and the pungent smell of chemicals filled her nostrils, making her vision blur.
When Emma woke up, she found herself lying on a soft bed. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, outside of which was a neatly trimmed rose garden.
"You're awake?"
Wanda entered, holding a glass of red wine, smiling meaningfully.
"Where am I?" Emma struggled to sit up, realizing her phone and bag were gone.
"Mr. Russell's private estate," Wanda swirled her wine glass. "Don't worry, he won't be seeing you for now."
"Where's George?"
"Oh, him," Wanda drawled. "He thought you didn't want to see him, so he's already left."
"What?" Emma stood up abruptly. "What did you do?"
Wanda chuckled. "I just helped you both see the reality."
Wanda took out her phone and played a recording.
"George, I'm not coming back. Let's just end this."
The voice was identical to Emma's, and even the tone was perfect.
"You faked the recording!" Emma's face turned pale.
"Does it matter?" Wanda shrugged. "He believed it. You know George hates being caught up in drama."
She leaned in and whispered in Emma's ear. "He didn't even look back when he left."
Meanwhile, George held his phone, repeatedly listening to the recording Emma had supposedly sent. He closed his eyes and turned off the screen.
If this were Emma's choice, he would respect it.
In the estate's morning light, Emma sat at the dining table, facing a delicate breakfast: fluffy soufflé, fresh fruit, and steaming hot tea.
Wanda leaned against the door, playing with a silver knife. "Why aren't you eating? Afraid I poisoned it?"
Emma looked up coldly. "What do you want?"
"Me?" Wanda walked over, her fingers brushing Emma's cheek. "I just wanted to see what the high and mighty Ms. Stuart looks like trapped in a gilded cage."
She suddenly leaned in and whispered in Emma's ear. "By the way, Seraphine looked at me the same way before she died."
Emma stood up abruptly, flipping the entire table! The sound of breaking porcelain was sharp and piercing.
"You killed Seraphine?" Her voice trembled, her nails digging into her palms.
Wanda stepped back, dramatically clutching her chest. "Are you angry?" She tilted her head and smiled. "Yes, it was me. That Seraphine was too annoying, always calling 'Mommy, Mommy,' driving me crazy."
She suddenly frowned. "Just like you, being a nuisance."
Emma grabbed a shard of porcelain from the floor and lunged at her!
"I'll make you pay!"
Wanda screamed and retreated, and two bodyguards rushed in to restrain Emma. The porcelain shard cut her fingers, blood dripping onto the carpet, blooming into dark red flowers.
Wanda tidied her disheveled hair. "Look at how pathetic you are now." She crouched down, wiping the blood from Emma's face with a tissue. "If George saw you like this, would he still love you?"
In the surveillance room upstairs, Michael stared at the screen.
"Mr. Russell, should we intervene?" the assistant asked quietly.
He raised his hand for silence. On the screen, Emma's red eyes were like poisoned daggers, piercing his heart.
"Let her vent," Michael closed his bloodshot eyes. "It's not good to keep anger bottled up."
"I want to see Michael."
In the evening, Emma suddenly said to the maid delivering her meal. The maid shook her head in fear.
"Tell him," she yanked off the necklace around her neck and threw it on the ground. "Either he comes to explain himself, or he can wait to collect my body!"
The surveillance camera subtly shifted.
Ten minutes later, the bedroom phone rang. Emma rushed over and grabbed the receiver. "Michael! You..."
"Emma," the voice on the other end was low and gentle. "You've lost weight."
Emma trembled. "Why did you let Wanda kill Seraphine?"
Silence.
"Speak!" She slammed the phone. "Aren't you the master of manipulation? Why are you playing dumb now?"
"Emma, believe me, I would never harm Seraphine. She's my daughter too," Michael finally spoke.
Emma laughed bitterly. "Your daughter? No! Seraphine doesn't have a heartless father like you!" She suddenly lowered her voice. "Michael, don't make me hate you!"
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