His posture was straight, his hands clasped behind his back, and his sharp, calculating eyes rested her.
He had been watching her, observing every move, yet she hadn’t even noticed his presence. She felt embarrassed and silently cursed Jessica.
Since her arrival into the house nothing seems to be going in order. She felt she will never be able to finish settling the scores with her for every embarrassment she has felt.
She forced a smile, trying to regain her composure. "Grandfather," she greeted with forced politeness, willing her voice to stay steady.
Elder Allen didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on her, cold and assessing. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice calm but laced with hidden weight.
"Vera," he said slowly, "what exactly are you doing here at this hour of the night?"
Her mind racing in trepidation while her head spinned for an answer but then noting came forth... The old man’s gaze intensifying.
"I want ...to talk to her...but... but she is gone to bed" she stammered out. Grandpa, see you tomorrow", she murmured.
Vera hurriedly disappeared into her room, her retreating figure betraying the turmoil within her. His sharp eyes lingered on the closed door for a moment before he let out a deep sigh.
He had seen it—the flicker of emotions in her eyes, the slight tremor in her voice, the hesitance in her words. Anger. Frustration. Jealousy. But more than all that, he sensed an overwhelming bitterness clinging to her like a shadow.
The old man’s gaze darkened. Bitterness is a dangerous thing, he mused. It festers, it poisons, and in the end, it destroys.
He had observed Vera for years, and though she had always carried an air of entitlement, tonight felt different. This was not the prideful daughter of the Louis family —this was a woman on the verge of something reckless.
With another sigh, Elder Allen turned and walked away, his mind already working. If she is not handled properly, she will become a bigger threat than expected.
Both of them were oblivious of the incident happening outside.
"We need to sleep, we have an early trip to make tomorrow morning." Jessica muttered feeling drowsy.
"Alright." Davis agreed. Slowly, he pulled Jessica into his arms as though it was a natural thing while she nestled into a comfortable position.
Davis lay awake, staring at the ceiling, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Jessica’s words kept replaying in his head—"There’s more to every incident that’s happening."
What did she mean? What had she seen or uncovered?
He turned slightly, his gaze landing on Jessica, who was sleeping soundly beside him. The soft rise and fall of her breathing brought him an odd sense of comfort, but it didn’t soothe the questions swirling in his mind in any way.
"Come to think of it... he had never truly questioned the circumstances of his accident. Had it really been an accident? Or premeditated through a foul play?" He mused inwardly.
Back then, all he could focus on was the on the total devastation of his losses—his legs, his position in the company, his fiancée, his dignity. He had been drowning himself in grief and resentment, unable to look beyond his pain.
But now... now, he couldn’t ignore it. He must find out to further ensure she is protected. His fist clenched lightly with a new found determination and conviction.
"It seems I have become too blinded by my suffering to see the truth?"he silently mocked himself.
His uncle’s had taken every opportunity to rise in influence while ensuring he falls into the background, from Jessica’s diagnosis his legs were tampered, the shifting dynamics in the family, the silent power struggles—it all seemed to align too conveniently that it is good to be fate.
Davis exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. He needed answers.
And this time, he wouldn’t just sit back and let fate dictate his life. Whatever was coming, whatever truth was buried in the past—he was ready to face it.
If there was a hidden truth behind his accident, he would uncover it. If there were enemies lurking in the shadows, he would drag them into the light.
The days of drowning in self-pity were over.
He was Davis Allen—the name that once commanded respect, reverence, and fear. And now, he would reclaim everything that was his, no matter the cost.
This time, there would be no hesitation, no mercy. If those who schemed against him thought he would remain weak forever, they were gravely mistaken. He would be reborn, not as the man he once was, this time he had chosen a path for himself —brutal and ruthless.
He turned his head slightly, his eyes softening as it lingered on Jessica’s sleeping form. She had walked into his life unexpectedly, yet she had become his greatest anchor. He couldn’t afford to lose her. He wouldn’t lose her.
For her sake, for his sake—he would rise again.
If he was destined to rule from a wheelchair, then—He must become the proud emperor in a wheelchair as long as she can stand behind him.
But then a thought clicked to his mind "Where do I start?" He thought out loud.
If he must reclaim all that is his then he must start somewhere important—Ethan, his assistant had been meticulous and dedicated. He must have kept them afloat.
He needed to check on his staff he had disbanded.
He needed to check on his outstanding fund which are not in the custody of the Allen family.
He needed to met up with some of the top executives and now Jessica is going into the company, he needs to protect her interest.
Otherwise he didn’t want to imagine the result.
He reached for his phone, his fingers pausing over the screen. It was late, but Ethan had never failed to answer his call before even though they are all in the Allen family house.
Taking a deep breath, he dialed.
The line rang twice before a familiar, steady voice answered.
Davis felt a strange sense of reassurance at the sound.
"Ethan, I need to see you. First thing tomorrow morning."