NovelEnglishChapter 232 Ever since returning from Elbert's birthday celebration, she'd been in this state for days.
At first, Raymond simply assumed she was in a bad mood, and planned to check in when the moment felt right.
That evening, after work, he chintending to talk to his daughter, only for the housekeeper to inform him she was in the bath.
Raymond didn't think much of it and settled downstairs to wait.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtBut two hours passed, and Citrine still hadn't cout. A creeping sense of unease finally took hold.
Surely nothing could have happened in all that time.
Raymond's nerves were frayed. His expression darkened as he rushed upstairs. He knocked on the bathroom door, his voice taut with anxiety. "Citrine? Are you alright in there?" He called her nagain and again. No answer.
Panic rising, Raymond slammed his shoulder into the door and burst inside-only to be met with a nightmare. The water in the tub was stained crimson. Citrine lay motionless, her eyes closed, one hand draped limply over the edge as blood dripped steadily to the floor.
Raymond didn't hesitate for a second. He lifted her out of the tub, heart pounding in terror.
Her limbs were icy cold. The pain that stabbed through Raymond was almost physical.
Citrine's condition was critical. At the hospital, she was rushed straight into emergency surgery.
Raymond stood outside the operating room, chilled to the bone. He couldn't bear to think what he would do if Citrine didn't make it.
The image of the bullet wound he'd glimpsed-just a centimeter from her heart- tormented him. Self-loathing twisted inside: how could he call himself a father when he hadn't even known his daughter had been shot? He slapped himself hard, twice, putting all his strength into it.
An hour went by. The operating room door remained closed.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmBy then, Weston, Manley Travis, and SalCarmichael had all arrived at the hospital. The moment they heard Citrine was hurt, they dropped everything and rushed over.
Manley glared at Raymond, his eyes cold and sharp under the harsh hospital lights. "How could you let this happen?" he spat. "She was fine until you got your hands on her. If you can't be a proper father, lettake her. I'll raise her myself." Raymond's frustration had been simmering all night. Manley's words made him snap.
He strode over, hauled Manley out of his wheelchair, and threw him to the ground, kicking him hard.
"She's been a wreck ever since she got back from seeing you! Maybe y should be the one answering questions-what did you do to her?" Raymond's voice was raw, his eyes wild with grief and rage.
Manley was momentarily stunned, too shocked to fight back, taking blow after blow before finally stammering, "All I did was let her meet with Phelps that day. I never thought-" Weston stood nearby, jaw clenched, watching the red glow of the operating room sign. Silently, he prayed for his granddaughter to pull through.
Seeing his sons brawling like children, his patience snapped. He strode over and kicked each of them, hard. "Enough! Both of you. Citrine's still in there-if you want to kill each other, wait until she's safe." Salome, eyes rimmed red, looked between her brothers and pleaded, "He's right. Right now, what matters is that Citrine comes out of there alive."
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