If you are looking for While I Was Bleeding Out He Lit Lanterns For Her Chapter 1 read online…
Chapter 647
Chapter 647:
“Do you think you’re clean?” Alycia’s voice was razor-thin but steady. “The wire transfers for those forged reports are still traceable to my offshore account. If I go down, Doctor, I promise you come with me p>
Finch went paler than his patient. He understood with horrible clarity that he was already on a sinking ship.
“Help me with this report,” Alycia continued, forcing each word out through the pain, “and when I receive my settlement from Cole, I will give you ten million dollars. Enough to disappear to a country without extradition and never look back p>
Cornered between the threat and the bribe, Finch’s resistance collapsed. He gave a single nod, and the bargain was sealed.
Hours later, Alycia was transferred to a private VIP ward. Susan sat beside the bed, disheveled and hollow-eyed, her phone screen filled with notifications about her own scandal — photographs, commentary, ridicule spreading across the city without pause.
Alycia looked at her mother with no trace of sympathy. Only calculation.
“Stop crying,” she rasped. “Richard’s been arrested p>
Susan nodded through her sobs. He was in custody for assault. There was no money for bail.
Alycia allowed herself a thin smile. She reached slowly beneath her pillow and withdrew a yellow envelope stamped with the hospital’s confidential seal, then let it drop onto the bed between them.
“Take that to Cole Compton’s lawyer,” she said, each word deliberate and measured. “Tell him that the Compton family’s heir was lost last night because of his cruelty. Tell him I will never be a mother p>
Her eyes burned with a quiet, ferocious intensity.
D𝘰n’𝘁 𝗺𝗶s𝘴 ne𝘸 𝗋𝖾𝗅еa𝗌𝗲ѕ 𝘰𝘯.соm
“I want the Compton Group to pay a price they cannot absorb. And if they refuse, that report will be on the front page of the New York Times by morning p>
Susan picked up the envelope. In her eyes, beneath the exhaustion and the ruin, something familiar ignited — greed, purpose, the faint terrible glow of a woman who had found one more card to play.
In their darkest hour, mother and daughter had become exactly what they had always been beneath the performance.
The early autumn sun was blinding in front of the Manhattan Family Court’s majestic Roman columns. A few white pigeons pecked lazily at the granite steps.
June descended the stairs with measured grace, dressed in a sharply tailored white pantsuit, sunglasses shielding her eyes, her heels clicking against the stone with quiet authority. Easton walked half a step behind her, briefcase in hand, maintaining a distance that was simultaneously professional and fiercely protective.
“The Beasley family’s bankruptcy proceedings have been initiated,” he murmured. “I used my connections to have Richard’s bail application denied p>
June’s lips curved into a cold, satisfied smile.
As they approached the waiting Maybach, a black Rolls-Royce Phantom screeched to a halt at the curb, blocking their path. The door opened and Cole Compton stepped out. His face was pale, dark circles carved beneath his eyes — a man who had not slept.
When he saw June standing beside Easton, something moved across his face and was swallowed back down. He walked directly to her, his expression stripped of everything except desperation.