Chapter 565

“And then there’s Micah. When he was snatched by Mr. Shepherd’s men, he kept crying out, voice raw and desperate—‘Emma! Emma! Take care of yourself, I promise I’ll find a way back to you…’ God, anyone who didn’t know better would think Emma was carrying his child or something.”

The more Ivy listened, the harder it was to keep her expression in check. Because once that scene started playing in her mind, “eye-opening” was far too mild to capture the sheer disgust and shock of it all.

If they were so in love, why did they split in the first place? Why call off the engagement? Why spiral into such melodrama and heartbreak? Was it only after losing everything that they finally realized their feelings? Or were they just the type who liked picking up someone else’s leftovers?

“Emma fell to the ground, scrambled back up, and tried to chase after him, but how could she ever catch up with a car? In the end, she just sat there all alone at the bus stop, waiting until it was nearly dark. Guess who came to pick her up?”

Boyd glanced at the rearview mirror, thoroughly enjoying his role as the storyteller—and even pausing for audience participation.

The “audience”—Ivy—played along, guessing, “Did the Windsor family send someone for her?”

“Bingo. Baillie Windsor showed up.”

Ivy snorted. “No surprise there.”

“The bodyguard said Emma made call after call, and finally, as dusk was falling, Baillie came to take her away.”

Ivy asked, “Did he take her back to the Windsor estate?”

“No, just dropped her off at her hotel and left.”

Ivy sneered inwardly. Clearly, Emma still posed enough of a ‘threat’ that the Windsors dared not bring her home, only helped out as much as necessary. They were scared the company could change hands at any moment, and they’d go from boss to employee overnight.

Ivy was curious. “So Emma’s been living at the hotel all this time?”

Boyd replied, “The bodyguards checked. Turns out Micah set her up with a long- term suite. I guess he figured it was easier—room service, daily cleaning, plenty of food. Less hassle.”

“Smart of them, actually.”

A long-term hotel suite cost about the same as renting an apartment, but came with 24-hour service and meals taken care of. Definitely a practical solution.

They chatted the whole drive, and with every detail about Emma’s current predicament, Ivy felt a deep, satisfying vindication. What goes around comes around. Sooner or later, everyone pays for what they’ve done.

She wondered, on those sleepless nights when Emma lay tossing and turning, did she ever regret the choices she’d made?

After finishing a surgery and making sure his patient’s post-op care was set, Jamison left work early that day. But instead of heading to see Ivy right away, he drove toward the Ludwig estate. On the way, he called Carla.

Lately, Micah’s antics had driven Carla’s stress through the roof—her blood pressure had been sky-high for days, and she’d been relying on medication just to keep it under control. When she saw her brother calling, she hesitated in surprise, then answered quickly. “Hello, Jamison…”

She’d been a little gentler with him lately—maybe because, deep down, she was hoping her brother could help pull her son back from the brink. But she never expected that this call wasn’t reinforcements arriving, but another blow.

Jamison never bothered with pleasantries. He got straight to the point: “Was it you who told Mom I lied to her?”

Carla was caught off guard. “Told her what?”

“About me not being able to have kids. Besides our older brother and his wife, only you knew.” And their brother and sister-in-law would never spill that.

Carla sat there, blindsided, stammering, “I—I’ve got enough of my own mess to deal with lately. Why would I meddle in your business?”

“You were home the day Mom went to the hospital for her check-up, weren’t you? If it wasn’t you who told her, then who was it?”

“Jamison, you need to back up your accusations with proof! You can’t just call me out of the blue and start pointing fingers. That’s way out of line!”

Jamison was driving and did his best to keep his emotions in check. But he knew his sister well enough to tell—this reaction wasn’t an act.

“So you really didn’t tell Mom?”

“I didn’t! If you don’t believe me, let’s go ask her together!” Carla said, her voice firm. Jamison fell silent, replaying everything in his mind.

Carla pressed, “What’s going on? Why are you suddenly asking about this?”

“Mom went to see Ivy today. She knows I lied to her—knows Ivy has health issues, might not be able to get pregnant…”

Before he could finish, Carla cut him off, “Ivy can’t get pregnant? What happened? Did something happen to her when she was kidnapped—did some old man mess her up for life?”