Chapter 112
Chapter 112:
Emily responded with a sharp, mocking laugh. “You are quite heartless, Mr. Wilson. Before I returned, word was you’d go to any length to protect Helena. Didn’t Stacey’s entire family lose their foothold in Cheson just for crossing her p>
Alden’s reply came without hesitation, smooth and detached. “Miss Simpson, I think you’ve misunderstood. It was never about Helena personally. I was defending my wife. The title matters—she doesn’t.” His voice carried a casual tone, as if he were simply reciting a fact.
Helena was barely able to process what she was hearing. Yet deep down, she knew it wasn’t a lie. Was everything—his warmth, his tenderness—just a carefully played role? Was this cold, calculating version of him the one that had been there all along?
As Helena’s expression crumbled into despair, Emily’s satisfaction finally surfaced. Without another word, she ended the call. Leaning in closer, she gave Helena a look of feigned sympathy. “You don’t have to worry. Now that Alden’s agreed to the divorce, I won’t keep you here much longer p>
Without sparing Helena a final glance, Emily ascended the basement steps and walked away. Gemma followed close behind, heels echoing on the concrete.
Once the heavy door clicked shut behind them, Gemma finally spoke. “Emily, what exactly are you planning to do with her p>
A glare from Emily cut through the dim hallway. “Mom, don’t tell me you’re suddenly feeling maternal toward your other daughter.” Lips tightening into a thin line, Gemma replied, “It’s not that. I just don’t want Helena dying under our roof. That would bring nothing but bad luck to us p>
From the beginning, Gemma had been uneasy about the kidnapping. In her mind, a forged signature and a one-way trip to some remote countryside would’ve been enough to settle the matter. Emily, however, wasn’t taking any chances. Something told her Alden wouldn’t surrender the marriage without a fight.
Until the divorce was legally sealed, Helena had to be kept far away from Alden. After mulling it over, Emily pulled out her phone and called Rylan.
Rylan answered quickly, clearly growing restless. Although Alden hadn’t launched a city-wide search, Rylan had noticed that Helena hadn’t returned home since the day before yesterday.
With a sugary tone and a practiced smile, Emily said, “Mr. Wilson, everything’s been handled. The divorce is nearly finalized. All that’s left is for Alden to marry me and welcome me into the Wilson family p>
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“You’ve done your part well,” Rylan responded, pausing just long enough to let his next request land. “But there’s one final thing—I want Helena. You’ll need to hand her over to me p>
The moment she heard that, Emily’s expression tightened. “That wasn’t part of our deal, Mr. Wilson p>
Unbothered, Rylan calmly spelled out his conditions. “We’re practically family at this point. I’m prepared to pull your family out of your financial mess—if you give Helena to me p>
Standing nearby, Gemma couldn’t hide her interest. The offer was too tempting to ignore, and she quickly pressed Emily to accept. The Simpson family’s resources had been bled dry by Douglas’s poor investments. They were desperate for a lifeline. Handing Helena over would also spare them the burden of figuring out what to do with her.
Swayed by her mother’s insistence, Emily eventually agreed. Alden had made it clear—Helena was meaningless to him. He cared only about the status she represented. With that protection gone, Helena no longer posed any value. Rylan followed up by sending an address, instructing Emily to deliver Helena without delay.
Not taking any chances, Emily turned to her mother with a serious tone. “Mom, I don’t trust this with anyone else. I need you to take her there yourself p>
Gemma hesitated, clearly uncertain, but the allure of her daughter marrying into the powerful Wilson family—and all the prestige that came with it—eventually tipped the scale. The handoff was arranged for later that evening.
Being confined to the basement for two days without food or water, Helena appeared dazed, her body unresponsive, her spirit nearly drained.
With a sharp clack of heels, Gemma descended into the basement alongside a servant.
Annoyed by Helena’s vacant stare, Gemma marched forward and lashed out with a kick.
“Don’t you dare die under my roof!” she shouted, her voice echoing off the cold walls.
Out of nowhere, Helena grabbed onto Gemma’s leg, making her flinch in surprise. Her eyes were glassy, her voice little more than a breath. “My dad… where is he? What did you do with him p>
With a sneer, Gemma yanked her leg back. “How would I know where that worthless man is? If it hadn’t been for his insistence, you never would’ve stayed with us p>
Helena felt something pierce straight through her chest. What was that supposed to mean? Could it be—she wasn’t truly Gemma’s daughter?
Summoning what little strength she had, Helena asked, “Mom… am I not your and Dad’s real daughter p>
A brief stillness took hold of Gemma as a flicker of something dark passed through her eyes, twisting her features into something even more cruel.
“Stop asking questions p>
With a sharp gesture, she signaled the servant to gag Helena, then personally dragged her limp body toward the waiting vehicle. Helena was shoved roughly into the back seat, while Gemma climbed into the front without a second glance.
No words were exchanged inside the car. Helena, too weak to resist or make a sound, sank into silence.
Only when the vehicle began to move did Gemma’s posture ease. She pulled out a compact and began retouching her lipstick with mechanical ease.
In her mind, everything was finally falling into place. After today, the Simpson family would be restored to its former glory.
If Emily secured her place in the Wilson family, every sacrifice would pay off. Their fortune and standing would be secure, at least for the foreseeable future.
Lost in her satisfaction, Gemma failed to notice the four black sedans quietly trailing them through the night.