The phone call at this hour sent a jolt through Jamison’s nerves. He turned, reached for his phone, and saw it was a colleague from the hospital. A sinking suspicion took root in his chest.

It had to be about Farley Shepherd.

In Jamison’s eyes, Farley’s death was no great loss. Yet, at this moment, a wave of anxiety crept in – he was terrified the bastard really had died.

Because if Farley was gone, Carla would likely be facing a murder charge. The consequences would be catastrophic.

“Hello,” Jamison answered, his voice low and tense.

But his colleague’s voice was even grimmer, heavy with finality. “Dr. Ludwig, Farley Shepherd was stabbed in the carotid artery. We couldn’t save him…”

Jamison shut his eyes, silent for two seconds. “Understood.”

There was no escaping the worst outcome.

He hung up, set his phone aside, and lay back down on the bed. Ivy watched his reaction and quickly pieced it together. “Micah’s father is dead?”

Jamison nodded quietly, his mind racing, then pushed himself up again.

“Ivy, I need to go check on things. Get some rest, okay?” he said softly, already pulling on his clothes.

Ivy’s emotions tangled inside her. She watched the heaviness settle over him, wanting to say something, but in the end, she just nodded.

“All right. Call me if you need anything.”

She knew there was nothing she could do by following him. All she could do was swallow her worry and let him go.

As soon as Jamison left the hospital room, he called Thad to break the news.

“With Farley Shepherd dead, this gets a lot messier. If it comes to it, we’ll need to bring in more criminal defense attorneys.”

A family of three, and now two were gone in a single night. News like this was bound to cause a scandal.

Chances were, the Ludwig family and their business empire would be dragged into the fallout.

There were a thousand threads to untangle, but all they could do was try to contain the damage.

Thad replied, “I’m still at the police station. The cops have heard. The lawyers are talking with them. But Carla’s been out of it ever since she was brought in – completely unresponsive. The lawyers say, in cases like this, she’ll probably be given a psychiatric evaluation. If it turns out she isn’t mentally competent, the case could be much simpler.”

Jamison was taken aback. “She’s really lost it? She’s not faking?”

Thad sighed. “Doesn’t look like it. Micah was her only child, and she’s always been fiercely protective. Now, after losing him, it’s no wonder she broke down.”

Both brothers fell silent, the weight in the air almost crushing.

If Carla was officially diagnosed with a mental illness, she’d likely avoid prison. But for a family, having someone truly lose their mind – there was no comfort in that kind of reprieve. It was a tragedy in its own right.

Jamison’s thoughts churned with conflict and sorrow.

His phone rang again. He ended the call with Thad and answered the new one.

“Dr. Ludwig, there’s a woman with a child making a scene outside the ICU. The kid keeps calling Farley Shepherd ‘Dad’… Should we call security?”

Jamison understood at once.

It was the woman and child Farley had kept hidden overseas.

“Call security. If they cause any more trouble, involve the police,” Jamison said coldly, not interested in seeing them at all.

“Understood.”

At that moment, outside the ICU, a young, beautiful woman clung to a boy of about ten, both of them sobbing hysterically – cursing out Carla, cursing the hospital.

Farley’s own parents were gone, but he still had siblings – brothers, sisters, nephews, nieces. As word spread, they arrived at the hospital one after another, unable to accept the news. To them, Farley’s death was a grave injustice – they clamored for the killer to pay with their life.

But the truth was, Farley’s death was anything but unjust.

He had come to the hospital late at night, intentions far from innocent.

His divorce with Carla had dragged on and on. The mistress on the side was growing impatient. The two schemed together – planning to use Micah’s death to push Carla over the edge.

Emma, the mistress, had calculated everything. If Micah died, her own son would become Farley’s sole heir. No one could challenge her boy for the inheritance.

After all, if things got ugly, Carla – with her status and influence – would be a formidable enemy, one Emma could never hope to defeat.

Farley resented Carla deeply. And with Micah wasting away in a coma from HIV, Farley had already written his son off.

He craved revenge, wanted to hurt Carla one last time. So he waited until Carla was gone, then slipped into Micah’s hospital room.

He deliberately pinched off the oxygen supply, leaned in, and whispered his final goodbye.

“Micah, don’t blame your old man… If you want to blame anyone, blame your mother. She coddled you, turned you soft, made you a nobody…”

“I know you’re suffering. Living like this isn’t what you’d want. I’m setting you free – soon, there’ll be no more pain…”

As he spoke, Micah remained unconscious, but a single tear slid from the corner of his eye.

Oxygen deprivation triggered acute heart failure. The alarms sounded; doctors and nurses rushed in.

By then, things had already spiraled beyond control. The only hope was to immediately start ECMO.

Carla wasn’t at the hospital. As Micah’s biological father and legal guardian, Farley was the one to sign the notice of critical condition.

He barely hesitated before making his decision.

“Stop all treatment. Let him go.” Those were his exact words.