Night Carved Paths Into Silence by Zyrel Ash ` 318
Owen immediately came forward, his face etched with lingering
worry and urgency:
“How is she?
What did Mrs. Miller tell you?
Did she say what exactly happened?
How could she have just fainted like that?”
Roderick’s expression had mostly returned to calm, but a cold,
unthawable ice remained deep in his eyes.
He took a step forward, slightly shielding Madeleine, and
answered in a steady voice:
“Dad, don’t worry too much. Mrs. Miller just said she suddenly
felt dizzy and nauseous and couldn’t stand steady. She can’t
really explain what happened, it was probably just a sudden
spell.
The doctor also said it was a sudden episode.”
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Madeleine quickly nodded in agreement, trying to make her
expression look natural:
“That’s right, Dad. Mrs. Miller needs to rest right now. We
shouldn’t make her relive those scary moments.
Let’s wait until she’s feeling better to ask for details.”
Owen looked at the two of them, his brow still furrowed.
After years in the business world, his intuition was sharp. He
could sense his son and daughter–in–law were hiding
something, a subtle evasiveness in their words.
But seeing their equally worried and tired faces, and
considering that Mrs. Miller did need to rest, he didn’t press them further and just let out a heavy sigh.
“Sigh… As long as she’s okay, that’s all that matters.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking exceptionally tired
and old.
“Dad, you’ve had a long day too. I’ll stay here. You should go lie
down in the lounge for a bit.”
Roderick urged.
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Owen shook his head. “I’ll just stay here. It’ll give me peace of
mind.”
Roderick knew his father’s temper and didn’t insist. He turned
to Madeleine instead:
“Maddie, you should go home and rest. Pick up Kevin from
Rebecca’s on your way. Dad and I will be here, so don’t worry.”
Madeleine was indeed exhausted, both mentally and physically.
Her mind was a mess, and she needed space to process the
shocking information and her fear.
She nodded. “Okay, then… Dad, Roderick, I’m leaving now. Call
me anytime if anything happens.”
“Be careful on your way.”
Owen added.
Roderick naturally put his arm around Madeleine’s shoulder. “I‘||
walk you downstairs.”
They walked to the elevator in silence, not a word exchanged.
It wasn’t until they were downstairs and at the hospital entrance
that the evening breeze brought a touch of coolness.
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Madeleine finally couldn’t help but stop and look up at Roderick,
her eyes filled with unease and confusion:
“Roderick, what you said to Mrs. Miller inside… about leaving it
to you. What are you going to do?
Do you… Do you already have a plan?”
Roderick looked down at her. In the darkness, his features were
sharp, his eyes deep and unreadable.
He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair, tousled by
the wind, behind her ear. His touch was still gentle.
“Maddie,” his voice was low and steady, “don’t think about these things anymore, and don’t ask.”
Madeleine grabbed his wrist anxiously. “But…”
“No buts.”
Roderick cut her off, his gaze calm but carrying a powerful,
reassuring strength.
“You just need to know that I’ve got this. Take care of yourself, take care of Kevin, and live your life like before. That’s enough.”
He leaned down slightly, pressing a soft yet firm kiss on her
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forehead.
“Leave the rest to me.”
He repeated, each word landing with weight, “Trust me.”
Madeleine looked at the unwavering determination and deep
protectiveness in his eyes. It was as if the kiss and his words
had temporarily pushed away all her anxiety and doubts.
She knew she wouldn’t get anything more out of him by asking.
When Roderick decided she shouldn’t be involved in something,
she could never pry his lips open.
She finally nodded, her voice a little hoarse, “Okay, but you… you
have to be careful.”
“Mm.”
Roderick patted her back gently. “Go on, the driver’s waiting.
Text me when you get home.”
Watching Madeleine get into the car as it slowly pulled away
from the hospital and merged into traffic, the tenderness on
Roderick’s face vanished completely, leaving only an icy
sharpness and a hint of bloodthirsty ruthlessness.
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He took out his phone and dialed a number again.
“Mr. Livingston.”
On the other end of the line, Gerry’s voice was grave, ready for
orders.
“What are Edward’s recent movements?”
As Roderick’s senior special assistant, Gerry had already started
investigating the moment he found a connection to Edward.
He had just received an update.
d has been busy with the project in the south district.
Ve–billion–dollar investment has put a strain on the Carroll Group’s finances, and they’re very sensitive about their cash flow right now. Also, I found out he’s attending a private, high- end salon tomorrow afternoon. Ostensibly for art appreciation, but it’s actually a chance for him to meet with several key
bankers to pave the way for the next phase of project financing. The salon is at The Dynasty Club. Security is tight, it’s invitation-
only, and no media allowed.”
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