"Miss, you're back.
Did you speak with that gentleman?" As soon as she saw her young mistress entering the room, Emma hurried over to inquire: "If you two don't talk, the issue will never be resolved.
Miss, now is not the time to be cross. What if... he is in dire need of you?"
It was a rare occurrence for Emma to speak in Matthew's favor.
The little girl's attitude today was quite unusual.
Flora still remembered that just a few days ago, Emma had seen Matthew as an enemy and had absolutely refused to let him near her young mistress.
Something must have happened, somewhere beneath the surface.
Flora thought so.
Feeling Flora's piercing gaze, Emma quickly looked away, changing the subject: "Miss, I've completed the task you assigned me.
That man said he would take care of the issue, there's nothing to worry about, he asked you to be at ease.
You should stop worrying..."
"Emma." Flora interrupted her: "Are you hiding something from me?"
"No, not at all! Why would there be anything?" Emma hurriedly replied, her demeanor only solidifying Flora's suspicion of her keeping something secret.
Flora's expression hardened: "Tell me the truth!"
Emma sighed, hesitated a little, then said: "I'm not entirely sure myself.
Miss, it's just my gut feeling." The gut feeling of someone who's well-acquainted with the seedy underbelly: "Something big seems to have happened or is about to happen in our world.
I just get this feeling.
Lately, Matthew has been going out a lot and he looks exhausted when he comes back.
And... it's been a while since I've heard from my master."
Emma's master, who was also Flora's biological father.
She slightly bowed her head, her thoughts flashing quickly.
Some significant event had happened, shaking the underworld, plus Matthew's extraordinarily peculiar behavior.
Could this be related to that map? That significant map was the reason Matthew was so angry, after discovering she had handed it to Ethelbert?
What on earth was that map?
"Emma, find a way to contact your master.
Tell him..." She paused for a few seconds, then, as if making a resolution, she gazed deeply into Emma's eyes and said: "Tell him, regardless of what happens, he absolutely must not harm Matthew.
If he touches Matthew, I won't forgive him.
For over twenty years he has neglected this daughter of his, I don't want to have to despise him." Her intuition told her that her father, Matthew, Ethelbert, and the other forces in the underworld were being swept into some sort of chaotic whirlpool.
Her father might not be able to ensure Matthew's safety.
But at the very least, she had to warn him, so he wouldn't harm Matthew.
Emma frowned slightly, quickly trying to explain on behalf of her master: "Miss, don't say that, the master loves you very much, it's just that due to some inevitable reasons, he cannot show up.
If he didn't love and care about you, he wouldn't have sent me here."
"Stop, Emma.
What I need from him is not merely protection." She wanted to be like countless other girls, knowing who her father was, what he looked like, growing up in the arms of both her parents.
Not waiting for over twenty years, only to receive a bodyguard from him.
The clock ticked away gradually.
Night fell, casting a shadow over everything in the world.
Matthew jolted awake, glancing around the dimly lit room, reached out to turn on the light.
The room lit up in an instant.
He reclined back into the chair, closing his eyes tightly.
On the desk, in the beautiful white photo frame, was a picture of a cheerful family of four.
He didn't know when that scene would repeat itself.
Or maybe someone like him didn't deserve happiness, as a woman had told him many years ago..
"Boss! There's trouble! Boss, come quickly!" The man outside spoke hastily, disregarding manners.
A sense of dread surged within Matthew.
He pushed off his chair and bolted outside, not even knowing what had happened.
"It seems she was attacked out of the blue.
When we found her, she was unconscious in a pool of blood, and there was... no one around." It was difficult to utter these words, with Flora lying there, her white dress soaked with blood, several stab wounds on her chest and stomach, it was an appalling sight.
And there was no one around her, no traces of hostility, no clues about her assailant.
"How could... this happen?" Matthew's voice faltered: "Check the cameras! We must find that person."
His subordinate shook his head: "Boss, it's no use, we've checked the cameras, but the only one that could have captured that area has been tampered with.
And if the person who attacked her is skilled enough, they would have managed to avoid the other cameras around the mansion."
Nobody could have expected Flora to be attacked within this mansion, just a few tens of meters away from Matthew, surrounded by numerous cameras and bodyguards.
Matthew's brow furrowed: "Where is her bodyguard?" He remembered that the young bodyguard was always by Flora's side, how could she possibly...
However, it was undeniable that the assailant had eluded Emma's vigilant gaze. The young girl received the news no earlier than Matthew, hurrying to the scene just as he had also just arrived.
"Miss!" Emma's voice boomed in panic as she dashed to Flora's side, shaking fingers placed under her nose to check for breath: "Miss, don't frighten me... I was only gone for a moment, how could you..." Her voice was shaky and tremulous.
Beyond the fear of being reprimanded by her mistress, she was terrified of the ever-smiling gentle lady drifting away from this world.
And she, the biggest culprit, had failed in her duty to protect her.
Matthew's perennially impassive face became even more frosty.
In his jet-black eyes, usually devoid of emotion, swirled a torrent of anxiety, confusion, and worry.
His legs felt as heavy as lead, laboriously inching closer to Flora step by step.
He couldn't believe that the person lying there was truly her.
Her lips pale, skin ghastly, stark against the glaring red of fresh blood, a sight that stung his eyes.
His thick eyelashes quivered slightly.
As if sensing his presence, the woman lying on the ground cracked open her eyes, saw through a veil of tears, the silhouette of the man who had just approached.
Her fingers twitched as if she wanted to grasp his hand, but she had no strength left.
"Flora... Can you open your eyes and look at me? Try a little, I will take you to the hospital right away... I haven't yet taken you and the kids back to that beach, nor have the little ones visited the amusement park..." Their encounters had been few and far between, the gaping fissures in their relationship growing steadily. He was struggling, not knowing what to do.
Yesterday, he had thought that they would continue tormenting each other for the rest of their lives.
But today, seeing her motionless in a pool of blood, he just wished for her to be healthy and safe.
Just as long as she was healthy and safe, anything else was fine.
In the face of life and death, all other matters lost their significance.
The doctor, clad in a white coat, half his face covered by a mask, cold eyes, spoke to Matthew in a business-like manner: "You are the patient's relative, right? The patient has many wounds caused by sharp weapons, and has lost a lot of blood.
She is lucky to have pulled through the critical stage, and her life is no longer in immediate danger.
However, the baby in her womb is gone.
In the future, she will need careful nursing. It is best to hire a professional and experienced carer."
"Doctor, can I see her?" Matthew, who had always been aloof and superior, was now just an ordinary man worried for the woman he loved.
Before the doctor could answer, Emma, standing next to them, shook her head vehemently: "Absolutely not!" She stared intently at Matthew, detesting his always impassive face: "The miss never found happiness beside you. All she received was hurt and danger.
You have no right to visit her! The child is gone, your child is gone... that's your retribution! Retribution... for not trusting..."
At first, she was angry and stern, but as she continued, she could not contain her emotions and finally broke down in tears.
If she could go back in time, she would surely slap her past self awake.
To stop her from advising the miss to pay more attention to Matthew.
Perhaps the miss would have been sad, but that's better than being in the hospital, losing the child in her womb.
"Relatives, please calm down. The patient's emotions cannot fluctuate too much.
You should wait outside, you can visit once you've calmed down." The doctor glanced at the man who had only asked one question, gave a slight nod: "You can go in, but remember not to upset the patient.
Her health is very weak right now."
Matthew solemnly nodded, made the smallest gesture possible, pushed open the door of the patient's room.
The doctor watched his tall, but lonely and sorrowful silhouette, his eyes complex, and let out a sigh.
In the ward filled with the smell of disinfectant, the furnishings were simple, just a bed and a bedside table next to it.
Flora was lying on the bed, her eyes wide open staring blankly at the ceiling, her hands on her belly.
Hearing a noise at the door, she slowly turned her gaze from the ceiling to the entrance.
It was Matthew.
Her brown eyes lit up for a moment, then quickly returned to their usual gloominess.
Her lips moved slightly, but in the end, she could not say anything.
The look in her eyes, full of despair and sorrow, tore at his heart.
He clenched his lips, walked slowly to her bedside.
"Flora, I'm sorry." He stared at her intently, only opening his mouth after a long while: "I'm sorry, for not protecting you well, and for not... trusting you.
But when I saw you lying next to another man with my own eyes, I couldn't keep calm." Unable to stay calm, he had erupted in rage, hurting her, hurting himself.
And indirectly causing irreparable consequences.
The unborn child, who had not yet taken form, was gone. Surely, she would hate him, right?
Flora said nothing, just quietly looking at him, listening to him.
He didn't need her to say anything.
"Having gone through this, you must detest me tremendously.
I don't expect you to understand my feelings, just... I promise you, from now on, it won't be like this anymore.
I'll learn to trust you, and I'll listen to your explanations." He was filled with self-reproach, believing that all of this was because he stubbornly trusted only what he saw, refusing to hear her explanations.
If he had trusted her just a bit more, just a bit, none of this would have happened..