Chapter 9
Lena froze, panic flickering in her eyes before she quickly masked it with indignation.
“Ethan!” She pouted. “How could you even think that? If I harmed a single hair on her head, may I die a horrible death!”
Her vehement oath melted Ethan’s suspicions into guilt.
He released her hand and pressed a finger to her lips. “Alright, alright, I was wrong. Wendy left, so I’m a little upset. Once I find her, I’ll teach her a lesson!”
Lena’s eyes darted before she soothed, “Ethan, as a woman, I understand hér. She’s just playing hard to get, making you worry. The less you chase her, the sooner she’ll crawl back. If you go looking for her, she’ll just hide longer. It’s all a game!”
Ethan cast his eyes downward, thinking there was some truth to it.
Wendy might seem docile, but she had a stubborn streak.
Besides, their son was still in his private hospital. How far could she run?
Once life outside wore her down, she’d return obediently.
The thought eased his frustration somewhat.
Seizing his softened expression, Lena pressed closer, her hand wandering again. “Ethan, I want you!”
Ethan leaned back, pútting distance between them. “You just got back from abroad. You should rest.”
With that, he turned and strode to his study, slamming the door behind him.
Lena smashed a pillow in rage. “That bitch Wendy! I should’ve killed her quietly!”
For days, Ethan buried himself in work, barely returning home.
Each time he nearly asked his bodyguards if they’d found Wendy, he stopped himself.
He tried to numb his mind with endless tasks, but the more he suppressed his unease, the stronger it grew.
Frustrated, he snapped his laptop shut, his gaze landing on a photo on his desk.
It was from their son’s birth–him holding the newborn, Wendy smiling weakly against his shoulder.
The warmth of the image stabbed at his heart.
His son’s peacefui face suddenly gave him focus.
Wendy might leave, but she’d never abandon their son.
If he guarded the hospital, she’d have to return.
Clutching this lifeline, Ethan rallied.
He called his driver to take him to the hospital, detouring to buy his son’s favorite Gundam model.
But when he arrived, the doctor delivered a blow–his son wasn’t there.
A foreboding dread gripped him.
Trembling, he ordered his bodyguards to trace his son’s last whereabouts.
Learning the boy had been transferred to a children’s hospital, he exhaled in relief.
“To St. Christopher Children’s Hospital!”
Wendy, let’s see you run now!
He hurried over with full joy, but the doctor’s words almost instantly made him feel utterly disheartened.
What? My son is dead?”
