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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His throat tightened, a lump forming as he thought of Lola’s sacrifices—how she would work her fingers to the bone, shielding him from a truth too heavy for a child. So this was it? This was why she never talked about his parents. Why she never allowed him to go to a public school until he was 10. Why she kept changing his name. Serena leaned forward slightly, her blue eyes softening with a flicker of empathy. “Your parents searched for years, but Lola was clever. She kept you off their radar, raising you as her own. The Wang family’s wealth grew, but their anger did too—they saw her as a thief, stealing their heir.” “When your parents died in a mysterious crash ten years ago, the family blamed Lola, claiming she’d cursed them by defying Xue Wang.” Gary’s chest ached, a sharp pang of grief for parents he’d never known. He’d always thought they abandoned him, but now, hearing that they were even willing to sacrifice him, their own son? And Lola, blamed for it all? His hands clen
Chapter 7: The Hospital In Heaven
Gary sat frozen, too stunned to respond. His eyes locked onto the woman before him, drinking in every detail. She was a blonde, her hair cascading like golden silk, catching the chandelier’s light in a way that made her glow. But it wasn’t just her hair—her face was striking, with high cheekbones and eyes that sparkled like deep blue oceans, holding a sharpness that hinted at secrets. She wore a tailored suit, black and fitted, that spoke of authority, yet the way she moved suggested grace and danger all at once. In a more plain description, the lady was extremely beautiful! “Master Wang?” she repeated gently, her tone pulling him from his daze. She stood tall, her posture perfect, hands clasped in front of her as if ready to serve or strike. “I’m Serena Voss, your personal assistant.” Gary’s mouth opened, then closed, words lost in the storm of his mind. Personal assistant? Him? The man who’d scrubbed floors for the Lancasters, who’d been beaten to death’s door, now had someone
