Chapter 214: No More Miracles

Jose simply smiled in response to the whispered provocations around him. His aunt, however, was more direct.

“I have faith in you,” she said. “You’re much more suited to take over the Wynn family than your brother. You’re already twenty—give it another two years, and he’ll be no match for you. What does he know? He’s just an academic. Handing the family over to him would be the end of us.”

Jose listened absentmindedly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Johnathan leaving the dining hall.

“Excuse me, I have something to do,” he said quickly, then hurried after his brother.

Johnathan was staring at his phone. He had sent Sierra multiple messages, but she hadn’t replied. He even tried calling—rejected. She was still mad.

Johnathan rarely felt guilty about anything, but right now… well, maybe last night had been a little excessive. But that wasn’t entirely his fault. Who could be expected to hold back under those circumstances? If anything, he had already exercised incredible restraint. She was the one who had bitten him first. If he hadn’t remembered it was her first time—if he hadn’t had a flight to catch—he wouldn’t have stopped so soon. And her stamina? Absolutely terrible. He needed to add physical training to her schedule.

Just as he was thinking about how to get her to forgive him, a voice called out—Johnathan.

Johnathan’s brow furrowed slightly at the way his name was called. Still, he stopped. Jose finally caught up to him. Johnathan glanced at him coolly.

“What do you want?”

Jose hesitated before finally saying, “Can you come home this time? Your room is still there; no one’s touched anything. Dad still misses you.”

Johnathan’s expression remained indifferent. He simply stared at Jose. Jose was nearly eight years younger. Less than a year later, their father remarried. By then, Jose had already been over two years old. From that moment on, Johnathan had never set foot in that house again. Now, Jose wanted him to return.

Johnathan’s voice was cold.

“That’s your home. Not mine.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He turned and walked away.

That evening, Johnathan landed back in Maviston. The moment he stepped off the plane, his mood improved significantly. He checked his phone again. Still no reply from Sierra.

If she didn’t want to answer, he’d just show up in person. After hailing a cab, he leaned back, thinking about the best way to coax her. But after a while, he frowned. The route was wrong; the car wasn’t heading toward his apartment. Johnathan lifted his gaze to the driver. His voice was sharp.

“Where are you taking me?”

The driver pressed the child lock.

“Someone wants to see you,” he said flatly.

Sierra had no idea Johnathan was already back. After an afternoon of rest, she was finally feeling better and went to join the others. Maybe it was her guilty conscience, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that both Grandma and Dickson knew something. She avoided looking them in the eye. Dickson, however, was clueless. He had assumed she and Johnathan had been together for a long time. So when he saw her, he only asked with concern, “Ms. Sierra, are you feeling better?”

“Much better. Took some medicine—just a sore throat now,” Sierra replied stiffly. She was beyond grateful it was winter. If it had been summer, there would have been no way to hide the marks. She had caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror earlier and immediately looked away. Johnathan had been absolutely ruthless. Not a single patch of skin had been spared, especially not her scars. Heat crept up her neck at the memory. She risked a glance at Grandma. Grandma was watching her with an expression that was both pleased and reluctant. Sierra stiffened. She definitely knew. Coughing lightly, she averted her eyes. She missed the warmth in Grandma’s gaze.

Sierra picked up her phone. Johnathan had told her before leaving that he would be back today. The sky was already dark, but there was no sign of him. She was just about to call him—then Dickson’s panicked voice rang out.

“Grandma!”

Sierra turned, her breath catching. Grandma had slumped sideways in her wheelchair, completely unconscious. She forgot about Johnathan entirely. With Dickson, she rushed her to the hospital. The wait outside the emergency room felt endless. Sierra sat stiffly, fingers clenched, heart pounding.

Please. Grandma had been in such good spirits these past few days. Let there be a miracle. Please. But there were never that many miracles in the world.

Not long after, the doors to the emergency room swung open. The doctor stepped out and shook his head.

“We did everything we could…”