Chapter138 A Mind Fractured
The next day, a persistent ring of the phone roused Winona Sullivan from sleep. Given the events of the previous night, Mr. Baker had graciously given her a few days off to recuperate at home.
It was a tentative, apologetic voice from the property management on the line, "Mrs. Bailey, there are two people at the gate asking for you, your father and your sister."
"I won't see them."
Just as Winona was about to hang up, Carlos’s urgent voice came over the phone, "Winona, I found your mother’s phone."
...
Back when she was younger, and under the belief that her mother's departure was due to a car accident, she was too heartbroken to care about such possessions.
When she tried to find her phone later on, suspecting something off, it was nowhere to be found, not even the call records at the phone company could trace it.
She had asked Carlos, who claimed he hadn't seen it, suggesting it was likely flung out during the car accident.
At this moment, the sudden reappearance of a phone gone for years was suspicious. If Carlos wasn't lying, then her mother's death might be connected to him, which could explain why he'd kept the phone but concealed it from her.
Winona Sullivan's voice was icy as she commanded, "Let them in."
With bodyguards present, they couldn't do much even if they wanted to.
Ten minutes later, Carlos came up with Layla in tow.
At first glance, Winona Sullivan nearly failed to recognize the gaunt woman as Layla. Her complexion was pale and sallow.
What struck Winona most was that Layla, who always prided herself on being better than her in every way, was today, of all days, without a trace of makeup.
As soon as they stepped in, Carlos was harshly scolding someone.
Winona was clueless about who he was shouting at until she saw Layla slumping powerlessly in front of her. It hit her then; Carlos was lashing out at his most cherished daughter?
She stepped aside, despite her dislike for Layla, she wasn't comfortable with this.
"Just spit it out. We don't need this drama," Winona said.
"This daughter of mine, I'm leaving her to your judgment today, Winona," Carlos’s angry voice buzzed in her ears. After the emotional double whammy she endured the night before, she barely fell asleep at dawn, and now the consequences of her sleepless night all came crashing down—dizziness and weakness enveloped her.
She frowned and kept her distance from Carlos, "What has she done now that you're dragging her here so early in the morning to confess?"
Winona had an inkling of what happened.
The background of the thugs involved the night before was too simplistic; no one with real connections would hire such unsavory help.
Looking at Layla kneeling there, a defiant look on her face, Winona's mind drifted.
Carlos truly did love his daughter Layla; otherwise, he wouldn’t swallow his pride to bring her here to apologize. His offer to let Winona punish her was nothing but a choice between Zachary Bailey and herself, thinking she wouldn't be as harsh.
Involuntarily, Winona's thoughts flashed back to the prior evening... She had to admit, she wasn't capable of being as ruthless as Zachary Bailey.
With eyes blazing, Carlos said angrily, "This child, to think she’d stoop to the vile act of hiring people to intimidate her own sister. I swear I might just kill her today, don’t you stand in my way!"
Hearing this, Winona Sullivan took a large step to the side, giving him ample room to vent his rage.
Carlos stood there, bewildered...
He had intended to put on a show, but Winona wasn't obstructing him.
Carlos had no choice but to slap Layla across the face—a sharp crack that made Winona's ears sting. The force behind it was evident.
Winona Sullivan chortled, "She wasn't just trying to scare me; she was aiming to kill me. You know she's the one who sent them. Don't tell me you're unaware they were carrying knives?"
If Carlos hadn't dragged her here to apologize, Layla wouldn't have degraded herself like this. With a simmering rage, she retorted, "Winona Sullivan, quit framing me. I only told them to take photos. Don't think I don't know how viciously I've been slandered all because you set me up."
Winona Sullivan paid her no mind, turning to Carlos instead. "Where's my mother's phone?"
Carlos glanced at his daughter, feeling the unfamiliarity as much as distaste. He had raised her all these years, and even a dog would show him some affection, wagging its tail in gratitude. But she had always been cold towards him.
A daughter neither helpful nor affectionate, was, in his eyes, utterly useless.
He might as well be frank. "I'll give you the phone, on one condition—you get Zachary Bailey to drop this matter."
If it weren't for Zachary Bailey, he wouldn't be here so urgently, making Layla apologize.
"I'll take it," said Winona briskly.
Carlos hesitated. "You really willing to let him off just like that?"
Since when had Winona Sullivan become so forbearing?
"It all depends on whether what you give me is of value. If it's just a wiped phone, you can both get lost."
Carlos fished out a phone from his pocket, showed her the call history which indeed had entries from ten years back.
It was a clue, even though the numbers might have changed.
Winona reached for the phone, but Carlos held it back. "Call Zachary Bailey first."
Layla interrupted loudly, "I have a condition too—I want to work at the Bailey Group!"
Her reputation tarnished, no company would take her in. Confined to her home, she felt trapped.
"Shut up!" Carlos hissed coldly.
In front of them, Winona dialed Zachary. She put the call on speaker.
"What is it?" the man's voice was detached, cold.
His tone and presence were nothing like those of the man who had almost confined her last night.
That thought made Winona's mind falter for a moment; could he be schizophrenic?
He seemed like a completely different person in a suit than out of one.
Zachary Bailey's patience was wearing thin. "Winona, talk to me."
Memories of the previous night's terror made Winona's voice tight and her posture rigid with anxiety. Even over the phone, the mere thought that Zachary might leap through the screen gave her shivers.
"Last night... you don't need to investigate it anymore. Let's just drop it," she said.
Zachary had his suspicions, almost certain the truth was at his fingertips, which explained Carlos's anxious behavior.
Silence fell on the other end, even the rustling of papers ceased.
After a tense pause, Zachary's voice came through, laced with restrained anger, "Winona Sullivan, do you realize what you're saying?"
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
