“Emma’s completely lost it…” Rosetta murmured under her breath.

“Alright, it’s getting late. I should get some sleep. Why don’t you try to think of another way?” Ivy said, her voice firm.

On the other end, Rosetta called out her name repeatedly, but Ivy had already hung up without hesitation.

Jamison had listened to the entire conversation. He set Ivy’s phone down, and she leaned back into his arms, glancing up at him. “Do you think she understood what I was getting at?”

“Even if Rosetta doesn’t, Baillie will. He’s not an idiot.”

Ivy nodded, though her brows knit together in doubt. “Adkins has such a serious heart condition? He’s barely in his fifties. That seems unlikely.”

Jamison gave a faint, knowing smile. “You should come by my department sometime. You’d be surprised how many people in their twenties and thirties are already sick these days.”

“I suppose you’re right.” The world had changed–stress was everywhere, and illnesses seemed to get younger every year.

Jamison corrected her gently. “Actually, Mrs. Windsor got it wrong. Heart surgery falls under cardiac surgery, not thoracic. That’s not really my field.”

“Oh, so this has nothing to do with you then.”

He shrugged with quiet confidence. “Not exactly my specialty, no. But if you need the top heart surgeon in the city, all I have to do is make a call.” His tone was casual, but his confidence was unmistakable.

Ivy looked at him, her eyes bright with admiration as she teased, “Dr. Ludwig, master of life and death–how impressive.”

He grinned, leaning down to brush a kiss against her lips, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur, “No matter how impressive I am, I still end up at your mercy.”

But Ivy’s thoughts were still tangled up in the Windsor family business, hoping Rosetta would catch her drift.

Jamison, however, had lost interest in the conversation–his lips found hers again, his breath warm and hungry as it trailed lower…

Chapter 648

“Jamison…”

“Hmm?”

“If I really did push the Windsors into going after Emma… would you think I’m-?”

“I wouldn’t. Emma’s getting exactly what she deserves.”

Hearing her husband’s assurance, Ivy finally exhaled. This would be the first time she’d ever set out to ruin someone so deliberately–at best, Emma would lose her child; at worst… well, the consequences could be fatal.

A pang of guilt twisted in her chest. But then she remembered–Emma was a ticking time bomb, a danger to everyone around her. If the Windsors really could be manipulated into striking first, maybe it was for the greater good.

Just as Jamison predicted, Baillie was no fool.

The next day, he called Ivy directly.

“Ivy, Dad’s condition is serious. The operation will cost at least a hundred thousand. We’ve asked every relative we can think of, but no one’s willing to help. You’re our last hope.”

Ivy was genuinely surprised. “Even now, the Windsors can’t come up with a hundred grand?”

Baillie let out a bitter laugh. “You have no idea how deep the hole is at the company. The house has been mortgaged for ages, I sold my car months ago–if we can’t pay the bank next month, the house will be repossessed. We might end up on the street.”

The more Ivy heard, the more stunned she became.

The Windsor family might not have been at the very top of Neo Haven society, but they’d always been somewhere on the second or third rung. How had they fallen so far, so fast?

No wonder Baillie had swallowed his pride and clung to a wealthy older girlfriend, acting more like a servant than a partner.

She didn’t ask what exactly had gone wrong over the years. Instead, she remembered that golf-playing socialite and asked, half-curious, “Didn’t you have a rich girlfriend?”

Ivy understood–she’d hit a sore spot. Either the woman had dumped him, or she wasn’t about to throw her money away on his family’s mess. Rich women weren’t fools, after all–why would they volunteer to be someone’s savior?

When Baillie didn’t answer, Ivy just smiled faintly and steered back to the main point, her tone calm and detached. “I’m just a student. I don’t have any real income. There’s nothing I can do.”

Baillie’s voice was equally steady. “Ivy, I know better than anyone what you’re capable of. I know you still resent us, and seeing the Windsors fall to this level probably makes you happy. Last night, Mom called to apologize, but you said it wasn’t sincere enough. So what would it take for you to believe we’re truly sorry–for you to help us?”

Ivy replied, “That’s not for me to decide. If you really mean it, you’ll figure it out yourselves.”

Baillie fell silent for a moment, then asked, “Is it true Emma’s still trying to ruin you?”

A smile tugged at Ivy’s lips–she couldn’t help but feel a flash of satisfaction, though her voice was casual. “She’s lost all sense. She’s like a rabid dog these days.”

“If I help you deal with Emma, make sure she loses the baby–will you cover Dad’s surgery and help us keep the house?” Baillie finally revealed the real reason for his call.

It was exactly what Ivy had hoped for.

But she couldn’t let him know that. Not over the phone–not when he could be recording the conversation.

She simply let out a cool, dismissive laugh, as if none of it concerned her. “Who you go after is your business, not mine. Leave me out of your family drama. I just want a quiet life.”

Baillie gave a soft, mirthless chuckle. “Alright. Got it.”

He understood Ivy was on her guard; she’d never admit anything over the phone. But he also knew what needed to be done. If, afterwards, Ivy came through, that was her conscience at work. If not–well, he’d be going to prison anyway, and dragging her down with him wouldn’t make much difference.

“You’re sure he got the message?”

“If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have called.”

Ivy had returned to her faculty apartment for lunch, alone, so she could speak freely. “I have a feeling Baillie might try to do it himself. I just don’t know what he’ll do exactly. Emma’s probably furious at the Windsors too. Whether she’ll fall for it… that’s anyone’s guess.”