Chapter 7
643words
There was Charles, cornering me outside the hospital consultation room.
His words rang out with damning clarity: "What did you expect?"
"Did you honestly think I'd touch you willingly? Disgusting."
"My tests came back clean. I'm just a carrier—no symptoms. Convenient, isn't it?"
The blood drained from Charles's face as he gaped at the screen. He whirled toward Eric. "How the hell—that's our family's hospital—"
Eric's smile was razor-sharp. "You think I've been playing golf all these years abroad? I've been building my own network, dear brother."
Before Charles could stammer a response, Eric swiped to the next video.
The footage showed Vivian slipping into a private room, furtively glancing around before swapping my gift box with one from her designer handbag.
She yanked out the delicate herbs, threw them to the floor, and ground them viciously under her stiletto heel.
With a satisfied smirk, she scooped up the mangled remains and tossed them into the trash.
"Poor little Sophie," her voice dripped with contempt, "still trying to buy the old man's love with some backwoods weeds? Pathetic. This garbage isn't even worth the space in the trash can."
Her words echoed through the banquet hall's sound system. The room went deathly quiet.
With a smirk, she carefully arranged the lingerie in the gift box.
"That's impossible!" Vivian shrieked, panic overtaking her. "That security camera was broken—"
The words hung in the air for a split second before she slapped her hand over her mouth, horror dawning in her eyes.
Eric chuckled darkly. "Fixing 'broken' surveillance footage isn't exactly rocket science, Miss Woods."
I stepped forward, fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms. "Do you have any idea what you destroyed, Vivian?" My voice could have frozen flame.
"That Seven-Star Lotus grows only in the crevices of thousand-meter cliffs. I spent three hours hanging by a rope to harvest it. Nearly plummeted to my death twice."
"It's the only herb in existence that could heal Grandpa's condition. Brewed properly, his symptoms would have improved within days."
I locked eyes with her, enunciating each word like a separate dagger. "Did you want him to stay sick? Were you hoping his condition would worsen?"
Old Mr. Kosters stared at Vivian, his chest rising and falling rapidly as rage and shock battled across his weathered face.
All color drained from Vivian's face as she stumbled backward.
She clutched at Charles's sleeve, voice rising to hysteria. "It's all lies! Charles, they doctored the footage! She's framing me!"
Eric calmly clapped his hands once.
Two men in suits materialized with a sealed evidence bag.
"Before you dig yourself deeper," Eric said smoothly, "you should know we've already processed the herb fragments for fingerprints."
He handed a document to Old Mr. Kosters. "As you can see, Grandpa, both Sophie's and Miss Woods' prints were recovered."
Vivian swayed on her feet, looking like she might faint.
The truth hung in the air, undeniable and damning.
Eric moved to my side, his eyes softening as they met mine. "Sophie, I'm sorry I didn't step in sooner."
"Don't worry about those vultures from the cemetery. I've already ensured every photo and video has been wiped. None of this will touch you."
I looked up at him, tears threatening to spill over. All I could manage was a broken, "Eric... thank you..."
Eric took my hand gently, his smile warm. "What did I tell you earlier? Between us, there's no need for thanks."
Old Mr. Kosters shook with fury, jabbing a finger at Charles and Vivian. "You ungrateful—! Charles, do you have any idea who Sophie really is—"
The ballroom doors crashed open, cutting him off mid-sentence.
A commanding voice boomed through the hall. "I want to see the person who dares mistreat my granddaughter—the heir to Thomas Wright!"
