Chapter 8 I'm Just Really Concerned About You

As the car hurtled toward Elin, a figure burst from the shadows, seizing her with a swift yank to safety.

The car whisked by, vanishing into the distance as quickly as it had appeared.

"Ms. Walsh, it's not worth throwing your life away over a man," Josh Stevens, Ruben's driver and her unexpected savior, admonished with concern creasing his brow. "If something happened to you, who would look after your grandmother?"

His words sliced through the fog of Elin's despair, anchoring her back to reality. She was the only thing Paula had left in the world.

As she pondered this, a sleek car rolled up, and Josh courteously opened the back door for her. "My boss wants to meet with you. He's prepared to help you with whatever you need."

Elin offered a wry, skeptical smile. "He might offer me what I need, but at what cost?" Her voice carried a tinge of bitterness.

She was far from naive. She couldn't bring herself to believe that a man who had mistakenly slept with her would lend a hand purely out of goodwill.

She was a shadow of her former self, with her reputation in tatters and nothing to her name.

Clutching her own arms, Elin spoke softly. "Thank you for saving me, Josh, and please thank your boss as well. But I can't afford to sacrifice the little dignity I have left."

Josh acknowledged her resolve with a silent nod, handing her his business card. "Ms. Walsh, if you ever reconsider or need assistance, don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you, I'll keep that in mind," Elin responded, taking the card with a distracted air as she turned to walk away, her thoughts heavy with the weight of her choices.

Josh swiftly made his way back to Sereville and promptly conveyed Elin's urgent message to Ruben. He added with a hint of concern, "Mr. Gordon, it seems that car was specifically targeting Ms. Walsh."

Ruben's expression turned grim as shadows seemed to gather in his eyes. He issued his commands in a steely tone. "Investigate this thoroughly, and arrange for someone to discreetly watch over her."

She was in dire need of a wake-up call.

...

Elin's visit to the hospital brought a mix of emotions.

Ever since Paula had taken a turn for the worse, she had been confined to her hospital bed, tethered to machines that beeped incessantly. Recently, though, she had shown signs of recovery and was finally able to breathe without the mask.

Her spirit, though tethered by physical constraints, was visibly buoyant.

"Grandma," Elin called out, managing a fragile smile as she entered the room. "How are you feeling today?"

"Much better, dear," Paula replied. She paused, her gaze narrowing slightly as she took in Elin's sorrowful demeanor. "You've been crying. Did you visit Dean? Did he upset you?"

Elin shook her head, squeezing Paula's hand reassuringly. "No, it's not that. I'm just really concerned about you. You need to focus on getting better, Grandma."

Paula bought her story, not delving any deeper. She whispered earnestly, "Elin, you must find a way to divorce Dean. That man is a walking nightmare. Now that he owns the company, you're nothing but an obstacle he won't hesitate to eliminate."

"I understand, Grandma," Elin murmured, her voice tinged with resignation.

Unbeknownst to Paula, Elin was grappling with a much deeper anguish. She had been utterly betrayed by Dean, stripped of her inheritance, and had only recently uncovered the harrowing truth behind her parents' deaths...

In the ensuing days, Elin became a constant presence by Paula's bedside in the hospital. She covertly sabotaged the television in the room to ensure no news could reach Paula's ears and instructed the hospital staff to keep newspapers far from her grandmother's reach.

As Paula's health slowly improved, a faint smile began to return to Elin's face, bringing her a measure of solace.

But her tranquility was short-lived. That very day, Elin received a frantic call from a servant at the estate. "Ms. Walsh, there's a commotion at the house-people are everywhere, handling things rather roughly..."

The servant's voice was cut off mid-sentence, replaced by an ominous silence.

Alarmed, Elin hailed a cab and hurried to Blowte Height. Upon arrival, she was greeted by a scene of disarray. Groups of men were meticulously packing up valuable antiques and artworks, their actions both swift and reckless.

In the upper halls, some of them callously tossed aside less valued items, throwing them down to the ground floor for efficiency's sake.

Amidst the chaos, two framed photos plummeted downward, crashing to the floor.

Elin's heart lurched. She dashed forward, desperation in her stride, but it was too late-her parents' photos lay cracked on the floor.

She knelt, gathering the broken pieces in her arms, her eyes brimming with tears.

Looking up sharply, Elin fixed a steely gaze on one of the men. Her voice trembled with fury. "Aren't you scared karma's going to bite you for destroying things like that?"

The man, taken aback by her intensity, stammered, "The boss told us to clear out what's not wanted, however we see fit."

With that, he scurried away, eager to escape her wrath.

Holding the framed photos close, Elin whispered a heartfelt apology to her parents, "Dad, Mom, I'm so sorry..." She gently wiped the dirt from the photos, her tears mingling with the grime, her body shaking with sobs.

Her mind raced with bitter thoughts. "Dean, you heartless bastard-first you took their lives, now you desecrate their photos!" Her grief was a palpable, raw wound, fueled by a growing thirst for justice.