Chapter 169

"Susan Thompson!"

Vincent King jerked his head up, crimson eyes burning with terrifying rage. His gaze could shred a person apart—whether from fury, hatred, or regret, it was impossible to tell.

Susan remained unfazed by his murderous expression. Her voice was ice-cold. "Vincent, apologize to Daniel."

A proud man like Vincent would never bow to a lame child.

But when his eyes landed on Susan's heavily bandaged left hand, his imposing aura faltered. The thick gauze was soaked with blood, barely concealing the missing pinky finger. The gruesome wound stabbed into his heart like a blade.

He had done this to her.

"Mr. King, apologize." Alexander Grant's voice cut through the air, his eyes glinting with frost. He'd never seen someone so blind, manipulated by a woman like a puppet.

Vincent's chest heaved. Guilt surged, only to be swallowed by raging fury when he saw Susan standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Alexander.

"Apologize to this cripple?" Vincent sneered. "In your dreams."

"Candy did nothing wrong. You brought this on yourselves."

"True," Susan said, her lips curling in mockery. "But if you refuse, this video will trend tomorrow. Candy cares about her image. Do you think she'll thank you?"

Vincent's pupils constricted. He lunged for the USB drive.

Susan stepped back calmly. "Go ahead and destroy it. I have backups."

His face darkened. He might not care about Susan, but he couldn't risk Candy's reputation.

"Daniel..." The words scraped out of his throat. "I wronged you this time."

The apology reeked of condescension, but it was enough for the boy.

Tears welled in Daniel's eyes as he tugged gently at Susan's sleeve. "Mom, let's go home."

He wished Uncle Murphy would hug him like before. But the man before him was no longer the one he remembered.

"Mr. Grant, thank you." Susan handed the laptop back to Patrick Pope. "Your coat is still at my place. I'll—"

"Don't bother." Alexander cut her off. "I'll retrieve it myself."

As mother and son disappeared into the neighborhood, Daniel suddenly turned back.

"You're not Uncle Murphy." His voice trembled. "My Uncle Murphy was kind. He's just... lost."

"Goodbye, Mr. King."

Vincent stood frozen, his heart carved hollow. He didn't care about this child—so why did it feel like the world had abandoned him?

Alexander slid into his car and dialed Benjamin Nash.

"Grandfather, cancel tomorrow's blind date."

"What?" Benjamin roared. "The reservation's made! If you don't show, consider me dead to you!"

The call ended with a slam.

Alexander's eyes darkened like ink. He despised scheming women—and this one had dared to target his grandfather.

Patrick read his expression. "Boss, that woman has no sense."

"Prepare a gift." Alexander's lips curved dangerously. "One she'll remember for life."