Chapter 212 Mommy, They Regret It Now
Ophelia was in excruciating pain.
She had never imagined that one day Darian would treat her so cruelly for Cecily's sake.
After being shot three times by Darian, even Larkin, standing on the side, was trembling with fear. Unable to hold back any longer, he stepped forward to remind, "Mr. Fitzgerald, if you keep shooting, she will die. It might not sit well with the Flores Family."
After all, she was the daughter of the Flores Family. If she were to die like this, the Flores Family would surely not let it go easily.
Darian glanced at Ophelia, who looked like a mess, his eyes filled with a sinister light. He tossed the handgun to Larkin and took the handkerchief handed to him by Larkin, wiping his slender fingers as he coldly said, "Death comes too easily."
Death is often the best release, and she doesn't even deserve it now.
"Get a doctor to treat her, no need for anesthesia."
No anesthesia?
Even Larkin winced at the thought.
Treating Ophelia's injuries without anesthesia was like subjecting her to extreme torture, making her suffer and die in agony.
Larkin lowered his head in anxiety, truly realizing for the first time how ruthless Darian could be.
Darian rarely harmed others with his own hands, usually giving orders to his subordinates.
This time, Darian acted personally, indicating the extent of his anger.
Larkin, of course, dared not say anything more.
Everything that was happening now was Ophelia's own doing.
Back when she drugged him, Darian had already warned her sternly. If she hadn't gotten pregnant back then and Darian didn't have much affection for Cecily at that time, Ophelia wouldn't be in such a state now.
Ophelia lay on the ground, convulsing weakly.
Through her bloodshot eyes, she spotted her phone, now stained with her own blood.
Seizing a moment of opportunity, she weakly called out to Darian, "Do you remember... our child... the one Cecily killed?"
Struggling to lift her head, her face contorted in pain, half white, half red.
Darian paused briefly, his voice cold as he retorted, "That's not my child. That night, I didn't touch you. As for what happened that night, you should know better than I do."
Ophelia chuckled softly, "You already know, don't you?"
"Yeah, Cecily's child is yours, so you can guess that my child isn't yours... cough... splutter." Ophelia suddenly spat out blood, struggling to wipe the blood from the corner of her mouth.
Darian clenched his fists.
A wave of endless regret surged through him once again.
He should have believed Cecily long ago.
What kind of man was he? The man from that night was himself.
She had always been pure, belonging solely to him, Darian.
Unfortunately...
Unfortunately, now that he knew everything and regretted it, she was no longer here...
She had said she wanted to see him regret, she had said she wanted to see him in agony, how could she break her promise?
"That child wasn't yours. I don't know what happened that night. I should have been in your room, but I ended up in another and lost my innocence, leading to the birth of that child. But it was Cecily who killed that child, not me."
"Shut up!" Darian snapped, his voice filled with anger. "Don't you dare slander her? Cecily didn't even know who the father of your child was. Why would she harm a child that had nothing to do with her?"
He realized his foolishness, how he had let his jealousy cloud his judgment, believing that Cecily despised Ophelia's presence and had plotted to harm her and the child.
However, he forgot that Cecily was also eight months pregnant at the time, nearing her due date. How would she have any thought or energy to harm a child who had no relation to her?
His mind was clouded by the truth he had seen with his own eyes, and he also forgot that Cecily had stayed by his side for two years, never competing or causing trouble, never making enemies. How could someone with such a gentle nature harm others?
Darian sneered mockingly, laughing at his own past ignorance.
Between outsiders and his wife, he had never truly believed in his wife.
"Yeah, I also don't know why she would want to harm me... but the one who harmed my child, it was her... you've also investigated, the truth is right in front of you, the one who harmed my child was her..."
"Don't worry, I will reinvestigate this matter. I will not spare the person who slandered Cecily behind her back."
Ophelia's eyes were filled with a mix of laughter and tears, blood trickling from her mouth. "No one has ever slandered her...," she said, her voice weak. Desperately, she reached for her phone, "There's a video on my phone... You can watch it. If you think it's fake, you can have it verified. I admit I've lied about other things, but not this..."
Larkin took the phone from her trembling hand.
As he was about to clean the bloodstains, Darian's expression turned cold. "No need," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. He couldn't bear to see anything related to Ophelia's accusations against Cecily anymore.
"Darian, at least take a look, please. What if Cecily is really different from what you think of her. Please, take a look."
Ophelia screamed, but Darian didn't look back.
She collapsed, exhausted, on the ground, watching him disappear.
"Why didn't you believe me? Cecily was out to harm my child. She's not who you think she is. Why didn't you trust me?"
Ophelia's mind was consumed with anger and despair.
'Cecily, you better be dead. After all I've been through, you can't possibly get away with it.'
Overwhelmed, Ophelia fainted.
Meanwhile, the Flores family, aware of Darian taking their daughter, couldn't sit still.
Owen was bedridden from the stress, leaving Sandra with the two children.
Her eyes were swollen from crying, filled with a mix of regret and relief.
She realized how close she came to harming her own grandchild and how unfairly she treated Rowan.
She had always despised him, joining Ophelia in mistreating him.
Despite his innocence, she made him kneel and endure punishment.
No wonder Rowan never called her "grandma."
How could she deserve such a title?
Sandra looked at her two grandchildren, tears of remorse streaming down her face.
The children, indifferent, occasionally glanced at their phones.
'Mommy, they regret it now. When will you come back?'
"Sandra, where's Ophelia? She knows she was wrong. Can I have her back?" Tabitha pleaded, seeing Sandra.
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