Chapter 181: I can’t be mistaken.
Lugard.
We signed the formal medical documents the very moment the doctor returned with the paperwork in hand. Once the ink was set, he immediately instructed all of us to clear the corridor, explaining that his team needed to move fast and transfer Theresa directly into the operating room.
I turned and walked away, my feet moving automatically as I sank deeper and deeper into the dark, tangled web of my own thoughts.
My mind spun in frantic circles trying to uncover the truth, but I genuinely couldn’t picture who the culprit could possibly be.
Who had the access, the audacity, and the absolute cruelty to poison her under our roof?
All I could do was cling to a desperate prayer that Theresa would come out of this horrific procedure safe and alive. I had already been forced to endure six long, agonizing years of my life completely devoid of her presence. I couldn’t do it again—living without her now was a dark, hollow existence I simply would not survive.
I moved swiftly, heading toward the far end of the quiet hallway, when a sudden movement near the turn made my eyes narrow.
At first, I tried to brush it off, thinking my exhausted mind was merely playing tricks on me. But as I locked my gaze onto the figure, I knew I couldn’t be mistaken.
I held a deep, burning hatred for this man, a resentment so profound that I had permanently imprinted every single detail of his face and stature into my memory.
I had memorized his exact frame for one specific reason: to ensure he would never be able to creep anywhere near Theresa without me knowing.
It was him—Michael.
A cold surge of suspicion washed over me.
What on earth was he doing prowling around a hospital corridor at a time like this?
Driven by pure instinct, I immediately went after him without giving it a second thought. The man seemed to be everywhere around Theresa lately, popping up in the shadows like a persistent ghost, and the whole pattern felt deeply, dangerously odd. Just the other day, if my brothers and I hadn’t intervened and shown up at the exact right second, he would have successfully forced her into his car and whisked her away.
What exactly did he want from her?
The question circled relentlessly through my mind, refusing to settle no matter how many times I turned it over. My eyes remained fixed on him, searching every movement for some clue that might reveal what he was truly after.
What was his twisted angle in all of this?
There had to be one. I refused to believe he was acting without an ulterior motive. Every step he took only deepened my suspicion, making it harder to dismiss the nagging questions crowding my thoughts.
Or was he pathetically trying to play the tragic hero here?
Was he harbouring some delusional fantasy of ensuring Maria finally opened her eyes to find him standing faithfully by her side?
The mere thought was so absurd it almost made me scoff. It was beyond ridiculous, impossible to take seriously, yet it lingered stubbornly in the back of my mind all the same.
Silently pushing those thoughts aside for the moment, I continued trailing after him without making a sound. I maintained a careful distance, matching his pace with steady, measured steps, making certain not to lose sight of him as he moved through the vast, echoing hallways stretching endlessly ahead.
And surprisingly, Michael suddenly began to pick up his speed. His deliberate, quickened strides suggested that he possessed a sharp instinct—it was as though he could somehow sense my eyes locked onto his back and knew he was being followed.
Recognizing his attempt to create distance, my chest tightened. He suddenly cut sharp to the right and ducked around a tight corner.
The moment he vanished from my direct line of sight, I broke into a full sprint, my heavy footsteps echoing off the walls as I rushed to ensure my gaze remained glued to him before he could slip away entirely.
But when I reached the end of the hall and whipped around the turn—taking the exact same path he had just taken only seconds prior—he was completely gone. Michael was nowhere to be seen, having vanished into thin air like a shadow dissolving into the light.
The most intensely annoying part of the whole situation was the layout itself. Right there in the center of the corridor, the singular hallway branched off into three distinct, separate paths.
Which path could he have possibly taken in those few split seconds?
Overwhelmed by a surge of raw frustration and mounting annoyance, I lashed out, kicking my leg violently against the hard wall with enough force to send a jolt of pain up my foot. A dark, dangerous growl ripped through my chest as I struggled to contain the rising tempers flaring within me.
’Arrrrghhhhh!’ I screamed inwardly, the silent roar echoing violently through the hollow chambers of my mind.
Who exactly was that elusive bastard, and what kind of twisted game was he playing?
With no visible clues left to follow and no logical way to know which corridor he had ducked into, I was left with no other choice. Disgusted, I reluctantly turned around on my heel to head straight back toward the direction I had originally come from.
I clenched my fists so tightly that my knuckles turned stark white, the bone-deep tension vibrating up my arms as one single name kept relentlessly ringing in my head like an unforgiving bell.
’Michael!’
I made a dark, absolute promise to myself right then and there: I would surely find out what he was up to. I would dig up whatever secrets he was hiding in the shadows, expose him completely for the snake he was, and make him pay dearly if he had even the slightest hand in bringing any harm to Theresa.
That was right. Above all the suspicion, the rivalry, and the rage, my primary duty was singular: I needed to ensure Theresa’s absolute safety.
With that powerful, grounding thought guiding my mind, I hastened my footsteps into a brisk, urgent pace and rushed back down the hallway toward her room.