Chapter 121

Margaret Hill and her daughter found themselves surrounded by bodyguards, with no possible escape route.

"Talk!" Harrison Whitmore barked, his gaze sharp as a blade.

Margaret trembled violently, her face streaked with tears and snot. Before she could attempt an excuse, a bodyguard's palm struck her cheek with brutal force.

Slap!

The crisp sound of the slap echoed through the hallway.

"I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!" Margaret sobbed, clutching her stinging face. "It was Sophia Lowell! She paid us—"

Harrison smirked coldly and pulled out his phone, dialing Ethan Sullivan's number.

"Send them to the police station," came Ethan's icy voice on the other end.

Meanwhile, outside the hospital operating room, the five Langley brothers and Ethan stood in tense silence, the air thick with dread.

When Nathaniel Langley pushed open the OR doors, all eyes locked onto him.

"How is she?" Victoria Langley rushed forward, her voice trembling.

"The dosage wasn't lethal. We've pumped her stomach," Nathaniel said, removing his surgical mask, his eyes darkening. "It was a new type of sedative."

Ethan's fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Inside the VIP ward, Evelyn Laurent lay motionless, her face as pale as parchment.

Victoria gently stroked her daughter's cheek, tears streaming uncontrollably.

"Sophia Lowell again!" she hissed through gritted teeth.

Ethan stood rigid by the doorway, his gaze fixed on Evelyn. He pulled out his phone and fired off several rapid messages.

"We've traced it," Nathaniel murmured. "It's linked to the traitor from the research institute."

Ethan's expression turned glacial, the air around him dropping several degrees.

At the far end of the hallway, nurses quickly diverted their path, unnerved by the terrifying aura radiating from him.

Outside the hospital, the Langley motorcade caused a stir among passersby, though no one dared approach for answers.

Inside the ward, the steady beep of the heart monitor filled the silence.

Evelyn's eyelashes fluttered faintly—she was waking.

Ethan moved toward her instinctively but halted three steps from the bed.

He drew a sharp breath and turned toward the window instead.

Beyond the glass, storm clouds gathered, heralding the tempest to come.