“What are you doing?!” Luca yelled.

“Take him inside,” Waylon ordered. “He’ll need surgery if we wait any longer.” He instructed the guard to open the front doors.

“Mr. Waylon, Master Adelmar said they’re not welcomed here,” the guard informed him.

“This man’s stomach is bleeding out. Do you really want him to die in front of our gates?” Waylon challenged, leaving the poor guard caught between a rock and a hard place.

“How do I address you?” Abel asked weakly as he looked at the man who had just stuffed needles inside him. He was a tall man with handsome features, no younger than thirty-five or six.

“I’m Waylon Adelmar,” the man said. “And you must be Abel Ryker, I presume?”

“That’s right,” Abel managed.

“The three kids look very much like you,” Waylon added. “I see where they get their good genes from.”

“There’s four of them actually,” Abel corrected. “Emma’s first child is still with me.”

“So I’ve heard from my father… Please go inside first, Mr. Ryker. Your condition needs to be treated immediately,” Waylon advised.

“Thank you, Mr. Adelmar,” Abel nodded gratefully.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Waylon said. “I’m your brother after all. It’s my father who has a bone to pick with you.”

“It was my fault. I didn’t protect Emma well enough,” Abel said with sadness in his eyes. “I will apologize to the old man as soon as I see him, but…could you at least tell me how she is doing right now?”

“This was the exact reason why my father refused to see you,” Waylon’s expression darkened. “Let’s talk about that later…”

Abel felt his heart catapulting. “Wh… what do you mean by that? Emma…”

“I can’t answer you,” Waylon sighed, cutting Abel off. “Let’s leave it to fate.”

Abel could barely hold it together any longer. He had not been eating or sleeping for the past ten days, only to hear those five brutal words from Waylon. His vision began to blur and darken as he slowly lost consciousness, passing out on the Adelmar’s front porch.

“Bring him to my car,” Waylon told Luca. “We’re still a distance away from the main building.”

“Yes, Mr. Adelmar,” Luca and Janie immediately carried Abel onto Waylon’s Rolls Royce, while the other four bodyguards tagged along behind closely. The cars travelled down a windy path shaded by tall trees and passed by several ornamental pavilions before arriving at a castle-like grand building two minutes later.

Waylon got off the car and hollered for Luca and Janie to carry an unconscious Abel. A woman dressed in a maid’s uniform came rushing from the building to greet Waylon. She spoke in a language that neither Luca nor Janie understood.

“My father spotted your entourage from inside the building,” Waylon translated the maid’s message. “Why don’t you bring Mr. Abel to the lounge first? I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Sure, and thank you for your help,” Luca replied politely.

The maid ushered Luca and Janie together with Abel into a small private lounge in the building. As Abel slowly regained his consciousness, he found himself lying on a plush daybed in a glitzy, gilded room of marble and stone, with a foreign looking woman dressed in a maid’s uniform standing next to him. With all his might, Abel pushed himself up to get into a sitting position.

“Mr. Abel!” Luca immediately rushed over to Abel’s side upon noticing that he had stirred. “Master Adelmar knows we’re here. We’re waiting in the lounge for now.”

“What did he say? How’s Emma?” Abel asked, still slightly dazed.

“How dare you ask that question?” a voice bellowed from the doorway as a severe looking old man appeared. Abel immediately recognized him as the old man who was at the emergency room that night.

“You’re Master Adelmar?!” Abel was incredulous, jumping to his feet immediately. “Where’s Emma?”

“You’ve got some nerve coming here demanding for things!” Robert Adelmar boomed. “I treated and loved her like a daughter. How dare you come looking for her after what you’ve done to her?!”

“Master Adelmar…” Abel began. “I know I don’t deserve to ask for anything, but… I just want to know where she is, and how is she doing…”

“Didn’t my son tell you?” Robert’s thick, white eyebrows furrowed. “It’s all up to fate now. Which part of that don’t you get?”