2025-03-15 23:28:0010 minutes. That’s all Gary had left to save her.
“Mother,” Kage said, wiping blood from his lip with his shirt, “let him be.” His voice was calm—too calm—catching everyone off guard.
Madam Ann looked surprised. “What the hell do you mean, Kage? I have called the police, and Gary should be flogged and locked up for the next 5 months! How dare he raise his hand on a Howard? Mr. Howard’s first son!? He must pay!” she screamed as though she was the one who had received the punch.
Kage smiled, smooth as oil. “Mother, I get it—my father’s one of the richest men alive. I could ruin this guy with a nod. But I won’t let emotions rule me, not like your precious ‘son-in-law.’” His tone was soft, mocking.
The room froze. Kage and mercy? That mix was a bomb waiting to blow.
“Let him leave. I am fine. Evelyn deserves a better man who does not fight like a mad Lion,” Kage continued, his voice smooth and calculated, his lips curling into a smirk. “And she will get better. We all know that.”
Gary’s fists clenched at his sides. His heart pounded so violently in his chest that it felt like it would burst. He wasn’t sure what infuriated him more—Kage’s arrogance or the way Evelyn still refused to look at him. But he knew what Kage was doing. Kage had no trace of mercy in his cold heart.
Madam Ann, however, wasn’t convinced. She turned sharply to Evelyn. “Do you see now? Do you see how worthless he is?” She pointed at Gary like he was an insect on the verge of being squashed. “You keep embarrassing this family by allowing him to breathe in our space.”
Evelyn swallowed, her contempt flashing as she flicked her eyes at Gary and turned away. If she could divorce him legally, he knew she’d have signed the papers yesterday.
Gary took a deep breath. He had no time for this. He’d caught her with Kage—half-naked, moaning—and still, he’d told himself she’d come back. What a fool. This was the height of it. As much as he loved Evelyn, he had to admit that this was the way of whores. He’d had enough!
But his grandmother was dying, and this circus was eating his time.
“I don’t have time for this,” he muttered under his breath. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed toward the back door, leaving everyone staring at him in contempt and rage, wondering what the mighty Kage would do to him.
Gary drove really fast, like a maniac. But he did not care. The doctor did not sound very friendly on the phone. Really, he never did. The man was as rude as Madam Ann.
But blood clots? Heart failure? He didn’t know the details, just that Lola needed him now.
As soon as he got into the building, he dashed into the doctor’s office.
The doctor, Doctor Vance, a man with a severe, military-style haircut that emphasized the sharp angles of his jaw and a voice like gravel that rasped from his throat, simply stated,
“You are 2 minutes late. It is clear you do not love your grandmother!”
Gary was panting. “Forgive me, sir. And you are wrong, I care about…”
“Shut up and come with me,” Vance cut him off, leading him to Lola’s room.
There she was—his beautiful grandmother—frail, unconscious, tangled in tubes. Her eyes, those warm lights he hadn’t seen in months, stayed shut. Guilt clawed at him. How’d he let it get this bad? What kind of grandson was he?
“We’ve got her on life support,” Vance said, cold as stone. “Won’t last long. She needs surgery—soon.”
Gary swallowed hard, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He took slow steps toward his grandmother’s bedside, his heart aching at the sight of her frail body hooked up to so many tubes and machines. Her breathing was shallow, her face unnaturally pale.
“Wh-what kind of surgery?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
Doctor Vance crossed his arms. “Clot retrieval, valve replacement. Costs $450,000.” Vance crossed his arms.
Gary’s stomach plummeted. He gripped Lola’s blanket, fingers shaking. $450,000? He couldn’t scrape together $450. Hell, he was struggling even to find a job as a cashier.
“Any other way?” he begged, hating his own voice.
“Pay or plan a funeral,” Vance said, unflinching. “We’ve done all we can. Have you?”
Gary took in a shaky breath. No. No, this wasn’t happening. Not his grandmother. Not after everything she had done for him. There had to be a way, something he could do.
His hands trembled as he reached for Lola’s frail fingers. “I’m sorry, Grandma,” he whispered. “I’ll fix this. I swear.”
But the question was—how?
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Chapter 62: "Gary"
The Lancasters’ mansion glowed at nights. The LED landscape lights illuminate the exterior of the building. The swimming pool glowed like an ocean of led lights. Madam Ann sat by the pool, sipping her Aged Tequila Elixir. The world was beautiful, her life was beautiful. She was now working with the big dogs. She would have loved to say thanks to Gary, but her pride was way bigger than her sense of gratitude. As a matter of fact, Gary had said it himself; he was just a messenger. And really, what else could he be? A loser, a live-in son-in-law who could not afford to find a proper job to pay for his dying grandmother. It was clear: all Gary knew how to do best was be a loser and nothing more. So, Madam Ann could rest assured that Gary would not and never be a rival, or competition. But she would keep him, he seemed to have good luck, a lucky charm. Still, truth kept gnawing at the back of her proud mind. How? “Gary, how? What are you hiding? How could someone as powerful as Mr.
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Lola let out a long, slow sigh, the kind that carried decades of weight, and eased back in her workchair, fingers drumming softly on the armrest. She took a sip of her coffee, the steam curling up around her silver hair, and fixed him with those sharp eyes, warm but tinged with something deeper—regret, maybe, or resolve. “Have you forgotten the reason, sweet boy?” she said, her tone gentle but teasing, like she was scolding him for losing his keys. “Or did Serena leave that part out?” Gary frowned, searching her face, the glow of her cheeks and the spark in her gaze, tightening his chest. “She told me some—said you kept me outta this mess to protect me, keep me grounded ‘til I could handle it. But I need it from you, Grandma. Why’d you let me think we were nothing when you had all this? Your husband is the fucking founder of the Wang Empire and…” “Language!” Granny cut in. Lola set her cup down, the soft clink of porcelain on the saucer filling the pause. She leaned forward a lit
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Chapter 59: Shock Them To The Bones
“To who? That guy?” everyone asked in shock—some in their minds, others in whispers. Felix, still on his knees, gaped, blood trickling down his chin. “What the…?” Gary slipped his phone back into his pocket, hands resting easy, like he hadn’t just flipped the world upside down. “No need to fix anything yet,” he said, voice smooth as silk. “Just didn’t want my mom catching a slap she couldn’t handle. Tell your guy here to ease up—family stuff, you know?” Harrison straightened, nodding fast, his grizzled face a mix of relief and awe. “Of course, of course—Victor, you heard him! No slapping, no nothing unless he says!” He turned to Gary, lowering his voice, respectful but careful. “You’re the messenger, right? Whatever you need, Titan Forge’s got it. Just name it.” The crowd buzzed again, softer now, trying to figure out who Gary was. Messenger? From who? The Sun Group? Someone bigger? Gary didn’t answer; he just gave a small nod, keeping his cards close. He wasn’t Mr. Wang to them—n
Chapter 58: The Messenger's Shadow
Madame Ann had expected a hand to land hard across her face, a stinging mark to match the humiliation already pooling in her gut. She braced herself, eyes squeezing shut, her breath catching as Razor’s shadow loomed closer, his raised palm promising a lesson she wouldn’t forget. But the slap never came. Instead, a firm grip closed around Razor’s wrist, stopping his hand mid-air like a puppet snagged on its strings. The big man blinked, startled, his mean grin faltering as he turned to see who dared. It was Gary. Gary Wang—calm as a still pond, his eyes steady, not a flicker of fear in him despite the chaos he’d just waded into. His plain jacket hung loose, his sneakers scuffed, nothing about him screaming power—yet there he stood, holding Razor like it was nothing. Madam Ann’s eyes popped open, her jaw dropping as she stumbled back, clutching her chest. “Gary?!” she croaked, voice a mix of shock and leftover venom from spitting in his face earlier. “What the hell are you doing?”
