Chapter 155

Chapter 155

The maid ascended the stairs once more, her voice subdued, “Sir, Blanca is hem!”

Sullivan, holding a diamond ring in his gmsp, silently contemplated it before responding without much emotion, “Have her wait for me downstairs.”

Bianca was seated in the grand foyer on the first floor.

Upon her arrival, she overheard the maid mentioning that Megan had moved out, separating from Sullivan. She thought this news would elate her, yet, it didn’t.

When Sullivan descended the stairs, he had changed into a fresh set of clothes. He looked somewhat worn out, asking as he made his way down, “What’s so urgent that it requires a visit?” Completing his question, he sat down at the dining table to eat.

Eating alone was invariably a somber affair, he didn’t have much appetite.

Blanca, mustering her courage, carefully broached the subject, “After the incident, Ms. Baldwin has been eager to see you. But since you’ve been avoiding her calls and not visiting her, she’s ended up in the hospital again… cutting her arms, losing a lot of blood.”

Sullivan, in the midst of ladling soup, paused momentarily at her words,

With a detached tone, he commented, “Given her condition, does she even have any blood left to lose?”

At that moment, Blanca grasped the significance of Cressida in his heart. She was about to probe further when Sullivan, with his head bowed over his soup, added, “Good, I have some questions for her as well.”

His tone was light, yet it camed an ominous edge.

Bianca held her breath, not daring to make a sound.

༄༅ ཚ ཚེ ། ༄ 68

At ten in the evening, within the top–tier ward of the Lowry Hospital.

Cressida lay op the b bed, her face ashen, with an IV needle in her hand for the blood transfusion. Dahlia stood by, ceaselessly trying to comfort her, but Cressida continued to weep softly.

The door swung open as Sullivan entered.

Dressed in a classic black and white suit, his appearance was strikingly austere against the night, a stark contrast to Dahlia and Cressida.

He stood by the door, turning to Bianca, “Take Mrs. Baldwin outside. Id like a word with Ms. Baldwin, alone.”

Dahlia’s mouth opened in protest, but she eventually left.

With the hospital room door closed, an almost suffocating silence ensued.

Cressida’s delicate fingers clenched the bed sheet. She looked at Sullivan uneasily, her voice trembling, “Mr. Lowry, I never meant for that incident. I was just admiring the garden; it held memories of my childhood.”

“That was Megan’s childhood memory.” Sullivan dropped a stack of photos in front of her, his voice cold, “Your parents used to work for the Quigley family. You deliberately visited Quinn Haven to take those photos, targeting Megant Did you think by driving her away, I would marry you?”

Cressida’s lips quivered, “Mr. Lowry, that wasn’t my intention!”

What she thought was of little concern to Sullivan. After this incident, any sympathy he had for her was nearly exhausted.

Sullivan moved towards the floor–to–ceiling window, outside of which stood a laurel tree, rustling in the wind.

He watched quietly for a moment before speaking in a calm, yet cold voice, ‘I’m here to tell you two things. First, I will never marry you, not now, not ever. Second, once your condition stabilizes, leave the country. I won’t see you again. If you engage in any more disgraceful acts, I won’t be merciful. Your life may not be long, but think of your parents–they have decades ahead of them!”

His almost ruthless words stunned Cressida. She looked at Sullivan, unable to believe he would treat her this way. In a hoarse whisper she asked, “Mr. Lowry, have you forgotten it was I who revived you, that there was a time you thought of marrying me.”

Sullivan cut her off, “I married Megan!”

Cressida, being acutely sensitive, suddenly realized something significant.