"Miss Quinn attempted suicide."
"Ms. Sterling called my phone."
"Miss Quinn… her life is hanging in the balance."
Earlier today, Quincy Sterling and Audrey Winslow had exchanged numbers.
Two minutes ago, Quincy Sterling had called her. Thankfully, Audrey Winslow was pulling an all-nighter to revise a draft and hadn't gone to sleep; otherwise, who knows what might have happened.
"Ms. Sterling said it was Miss Quinn's good friend, Zella Buckley, who first found her after she slit her wrists."
"It happened in the ruined ancestral hall of Quinn Manor."
"Ms. Sterling is also rushing to the hospital now. We don't have all the details yet."
Audrey Winslow paused, looking up at the man. He appeared completely unfazed, but the air around him had turned frigid.
"I don't know what happened between you two. But I do know that some people, once you lose them, you regret it for the rest of your life."
Audrey Winslow had a good sense of propriety. She was only responsible for passing on the message, not for making the decision.
...
Zella Buckley stood outside the operating room, frantic with worry.
Seraphina Quinn had a rare blood type: RH-negative. The hospital had admitted a woman hemorrhaging during childbirth earlier today, and the supply of that blood type was now critically low.
She was just the unwanted baggage her mother brought when she married into the Buckley family. Though she was technically the family's third daughter, she had virtually no power.
Her mother's words carried no weight, and as for herself, she was utterly...
"What are you doing here in the middle of the night? Shouldn't you be at home asleep?"
A cold, low male voice came from behind her.
Hearing this, Zella Buckley's whole body jolted, a look of terror on her face.
She turned and saw Colin Buckley walking toward her. He was in a white lab coat, having just finished an emergency surgery.
In just a few seconds, he was standing in front of her. "Cat got your tongue?"
Zella Buckley took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. "Brother..."
She stammered out the word, then quickly pleaded, "Brother, I have a friend who desperately needs RH-negative blood. Can you..."
She hadn't even finished her sentence when the man ruthlessly refused, "No."
Zella's eyes turned red with desperation. "But it would only take a single word from you..."
Colin Buckley retorted, "Are we close?"
Colin Buckley was her stepfather's only son. When she was ten and had followed her mother into the Buckley family, Colin was already eighteen.
The first time they met, he'd thrown her into the man-made lake and she'd swallowed a stomachful of cold water. She had been terrified of him ever since.
Zella Buckley bit her lip, not daring to make another sound.
Just then, Colin Buckley's intern rushed over, holding his phone. "Professor Buckley, you have a call. It's from Kingsland. The person on the line said his surname is Fairchild."
Colin Buckley pulled down his surgical mask, revealing an incredibly fair face with sharp, angular features that exuded a cold, aristocratic arrogance.
He took the phone and, before answering, instructed his intern, "Get someone to escort the Third Miss back to Buckley Manor."
With Seraphina Quinn's life on the line, there was no way Zella Buckley would leave.
The moment Colin Buckley finished speaking, she slipped away like an eel and ran off.
Colin Buckley frowned in annoyance, but answered the call. "Fairchild?"
At this time, Damian Fairchild was already on his way to the hospital, but it would take him twenty minutes at the earliest.
He cut to the chase. "Do me a favor."
Colin Buckley raised an eyebrow. "Well, well. So there are times when even you need to ask for favors?"
Damian Fairchild's voice was sharp. "Are you helping or not?"
The man's tone was cold and harsh, which was extremely rare.
Colin Buckley had a vague idea of what was happening. "What? You want to die over her all over again?"
As soon as he finished speaking, a warning grated through the phone, each word sharp as a razor's edge: "Colin Buckley!"
Colin Buckley relented. "Alright, alright! It's a rare day you ask me for a favor. I'll help, dammit, is that what you want to hear?"
Because Damian Fairchild's call was timely, Colin Buckley used all his resources to get enough RH-negative blood in the shortest time possible.
But even so, after a successful blood transfusion, Seraphina Quinn still showed no signs of waking up.
When Damian Fairchild arrived, Colin Buckley was dragging Zella Buckley out of the emergency department, twisting her ear.
"How many times have I told you?"
"To stay out of the Quinn Family's damned business!"
"Are you deaf? Is that it?"
Being scolded, Zella could only protest in a small voice, "Seraphina is my friend. I can't just watch her die..."
"Feeling bold now, are you? Daring to talk back to me?"
Zella Buckley was furious but didn't dare to speak.
Damian Fairchild walked towards them, and Zella's gaze fell on him.
When she got a clear look at his face, the thought of what had happened to Seraphina made her direct all her anger at him. "You, Fairchild! You have the nerve to show your face? Let me tell you, if anything happens to Seraphina, I'll come back and haunt you!"
Her words were fierce, but she didn't dare take a single step closer to Damian Fairchild. She even instinctively hid behind Colin Buckley, only her dark-haired head peeking out.
Damian Fairchild had no time to deal with her. He turned to Colin Buckley. "How is she now?"
Colin Buckley's tone was languid. "She's definitely not going to die. But as for whether she'll go crazy after waking up, I can't guarantee that." He paused. "Fairchild, seriously, you didn't leave her any way out. You really went too far this time!"
Tearing down a family's ancestral home, desecrating their ancestral hall—it would drive anyone insane.
Damian Fairchild didn't respond, his face cold as he strode quickly towards the inpatient building.
Seraphina Quinn's room was on the eighteenth floor, a private room.
Quincy Sterling had arrived before Damian Fairchild.
But Seraphina Quinn was in bad shape, completely drained of color. If it weren't for the numbers flickering on the monitors, Quincy Sterling would have suspected she was already gone.
Quincy Sterling was both angry and resentful toward Seraphina Quinn—this cash cow that had yet to bear fruit.
She stood before the hospital bed and couldn't help but start cursing at her.
"You foolish girl! If you're going to die, you should at least pay off your uncle's bank loan before you do!"
"Besides, can you even afford to die?"
"If you die, who's going to visit your parents' graves at the Quinn family cemetery each year to pay respects?"
"And who will take care of your grandfather? Also, about your younger uncle's case, I heard there might be a chance to retract the confession."
Quincy Sterling rambled on. When Damian Fairchild knocked and entered, she was wiping Seraphina Quinn's face with a warm towel.
It wasn't that she actually felt sorry for Seraphina Quinn. She had called Audrey Winslow and learned that Damian Fairchild was coming, so she was deliberately putting on a show for him.
In Quincy Sterling's eyes, for a man as immensely powerful as Damian Fairchild to vent his anger on Quinn Manor, it had to mean he still loved Seraphina Quinn.
As the old saying goes, the deeper the hate, the deeper the love.
So, Quincy Sterling felt that as long as Seraphina Quinn didn't kick the bucket, she had a way to get some benefits from Damian Fairchild.
Therefore, when Damian Fairchild pushed the door open and came in, Quincy Sterling hurried forward. "Mr. Fairchild, you're finally here."
Damian Fairchild had a cold aura. His stern, unsmiling expression made him seem full of hostility.
Although Quincy Sterling was wary, after observing his expression for a moment and seeing no displeasure, she continued:
"Mr. Fairchild, the old saying goes, 'It takes ten years of fate to travel in the same boat, and a hundred years to share a pillow.' You and Seraphina were husband and wife, after all. Even if you're divorced, there are still some old feelings. Besides, back when the news of your plane crash came out, Seraphina was the first one to rush to the accident scene. After that... she even spent a fortune to buy you a prime burial plot with good feng shui at Hallowmount..."
She paused, then added,
"Back then, when the Quinn Family fell into unexpected trouble, Seraphina took out a loan to buy that plot... Every year, on the anniversary of your death, Seraphina would go to the cemetery to visit you. She has always loved you."
Finally, the man, who had shown no emotion, spoke, his voice deep and low.
"What did you say?"
His voice was tight with some unknown emotion. "You said she's still... in love with me?"