Chapter 581
Carmela frowned, a chill washing over her. The son she had carried and birthed was now treating her with such contempt—and all over a woman.
“What do you mean this has nothing to do with me? I’m your mother! Is it wrong for me to care about your marriage?”
Frank Atwater’s expression remained indifferent. “You’re my mother. Of course, you’re never wrong.”
“But when you arranged my divorce behind my back, you should have expected this outcome. I’m your son, not a puppet on a string.”
Carmela stood frozen as Frank turned and strode out the door.
Hickey bounded down the stairs like a cannonball, wrapping his arms around Carmela’s legs. “Grandma! Was that Uncle Frank? Why didn’t he come upstairs to see me?”
Carmela snapped out of her daze and hugged her only grandson tightly. “He’s busy today. He’ll definitely come see you next time.”
“You’re not lying, are you?” Hickey pouted, remembering Marcia Carson’s constant reminders. “Is my mom really coming back? Is Uncle Frank going to marry her?”
After a slight hesitation, Carmela nodded. “Yes.”
Whatever Marcia’s past reputation was, the title of the Wilkinson family’s fifth daughter was enough to wipe the slate clean. The Atwater family desperately needed the Wilkinsons’ influence. She also needed a daughter-in-law of that caliber. With Marcia by her side, no one in her social circle would dare look down on her again.
Tomorrow, she would personally visit the Wilkinsons to finalize the engagement. Then, at the Winter Charity Gala in a few days, they would announce the wedding to high society. By then, even if Frank objected, he wouldn’t dare risk offending the Wilkinsons to back out.
At Rivercross Residence.
Elissa Drummond stepped out of the shower. Seeing the bedroom empty, she padded toward the study to find Rowan Murphy.
Hearing the soft click of the door, Rowan looked up, speaking just as Elissa walked in. “Not sleepy yet?”
It was past ten.
Elissa blinked in surprise. “How did you know it was me?”
The moment the words left her mouth, she realized it was a silly question. No one
else would dare walk into his study without knocking.
She walked up to him, pressing her lips together. “Any news from lan?”
Earlier that day, Rowan had instructed lan to investigate who Jacqueline had come into contact with before being poisoned flissa hadn’t stopped thinking about it. Finding the culprit might be the fastest way to get the antidote.
Right on cue, Rowan’s phone buzzed on the desk. The caller ID flashed lan’s name.
Rowan answered on speaker. “Did you find out?”
“Yes,” lan replied, sounding a bit hesitant. “I tracked down who she interacted with today.”
Elissa’s breathing quickened. “Who?”
“A man named Thomas Tate. He used to work for a Fortune 500 company but went to prison last year for embezzlement. He was just released a couple of days ago.”
Elissa felt entirely lost. She had never heard that name before, and she was certain Jacqueline didn’t know him either. But she also knew lan wouldn’t make a mistake.
“Did you locate him?” Rowan asked, cutting to the chase.
“No.” lan sounded frustrated. “He bought a ticket to Prydia yesterday. By the time the incident happened, his flight had already taken off.”
The hope drained from Elissa’s delicate face, leaving her expression utterly desolate.
“Do you need me to fly out there?” lan asked carefully.
“No,” Rowan replied, analyzing the details. “He’s obviously just a hired gun. Instead
of wasting time, look into who he contacted after getting out of prison.”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” lan groaned. “I’m on it!”
Tracking local connections was far more efficient than hunting a man down in Prydia. Vistapeak City was their territory, Prydia was a tangled web of dangerous factions where even powerful outsiders struggled.
The call ended. Rowan took in Elissa’s worry, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her onto his lap. “Didn’t I tell you she’s going to be fine?” he murmured soothingly.
His body heat seeped through her clothes, grounding her. She lowered her gaze. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just that this poison is incredibly complex.”
BUT
So complex she didn’t even trust her own skills. Jacqueline’s body could hold out for a week at most. Without the antidote, the worst was inevitable. Even with Alastair Whitman analyzing the toxins, time was running out. She was terrified.