Eighteen Again: The CEO's Wife Was A Delinquent
Chapter 251: Strings of Fate
Before they can wheel Cassidy off, Adrian catches a glimpse of her face - pale, and deathly so, her wild red hair framing it like a funeral wreath.
Everything in him seems to get crushed into smithereens in that moment. In his worst nightmares, he may have run - may have sought to take her into his arms and breath life into her. To bring her back, his heart would have begged and begged that they take his life instead.
Soon, Cassidy disappears into an ambulance, leaving him numb and frozen. Asher sends him a solemn gaze as the doors slam shut behind them.
Something in Adrian feels inadequate, then - more so than he had ever felt, when there was anger flaring in Asher's eyes. The defeat in his face is more devastating somehow, and there is no blame in it anymore.
It's all his fault, surely.
Everything had been his responsibility, but he had failed to carry it. He felt as he had before, staring at himself in the mirror - a seventeen-year-old carrying the weight of the most horrendous, darkest crimes, and he wonders if his scars are punishments. That's because he's not a victim - he's a perpetrator himself.
He is at fault.
He is to blame.
'Does it show on my face?' Adrian wondered.
He looks towards Edward who is helping Charles tend to Seven's injuries. Next to them is Aira - and there is relief in each of their faces as though they believe that the battle is already over.
'They are wrong,' Adrian thought, his mind recalling the state of Cassidy's life.
They are wrong because the worst is yet to come.
Some commotion occurs, then. He turns to see a half-conscious Dylan getting dragged. The policemen trailed behind him with all of his weapons in their hands - daggers, knives and all sorts of blades. He sees the perplexed looks on their faces as though they had never seen such murder weapons before.
Adrian supposes they haven't.
The syndicate likes doing things the archaic way - the barbaric way. Firstly, because they can, and secondly, because there are no bullets to trace, therefore no evidence to give away who did it. Police these days are so used to gunshots and poison. Sometimes, the old is just better.
"Sir, tell us what happened," some outside voice said, and Adrian turned, his mind clearing for just a moment.
He feels rather than sees Asher shift next to him like some bodyguard of sorts. He hopes he's reassured now. The outside voice goes on, "They told me you would know."
"It was a heist," Adrian answered, realizing that it was a policeman.
"A heist? This looks more like a terrorist attack to me. They tried to-"
"I know what they tried to do, but I assure you that this was no terrorist attack. They wanted to ship humans off like products."
The policeman looks baffled for a moment.
Adrian sighs at the weight of what he knows. Sometimes, he wishes he can just erase it all from his mind - all this knowledge is a curse. Ignorance would be bliss, truly.
But then again, if Adrian had led another life - some other life, then his and Cassidy's paths never would have overlapped. Their so-called strings of fate never would have tangled up. They'd been woven together - been knotted for them to behold for the rest of their lives.
Adrian can't imagine some other life, then. There's no world if Cassidy is not in it.
"What do you mean by products?" the policeman asked, and he smiled tightly.
Some other headspace took over. He felt not like Adrian then, but rather the heir to a throne of ashes - the boy Grisham Donovan had tried to raise him to be.
"The criminal syndicate tried to restart their human trafficking business among other things..." he began to say.
"Tonight is their guarantee of failure."
Adrian talks with the policeman long into the night - along with a detective and his partner, a jittery forensic scientist. The latter of whom has been following the syndicate's case quite avidly as well, though of course, he had not gotten so far. At some point, Asher and Aira took their leave, followed by Seven and Charles. He bids them well - tells them that he will catch up with them.
They're going to the hospital to be with Cassiy.
Adrian wants to be with her, too.
But it's better for him to finish the job now. So, he gives the police all the information they need. He notices that the details they think they're soaking from him are all bits and pieces useful for building up a court case. At the observation, he smiles meekly - some dangerous edge lying beneath the surface.
There will be no court case.
None for Grisham. None for Dylan.
In Adrian's mind, their punishment has already been made.
---
Adrian recognizes the car long before anyone else can.
The policemen are lingering, though he has no care at all for what they are doing. In the long run, their efforts will be futile.
Dylan is recuperating in the police car, his hands shackled. He is guarded by the majority of the guards in the area. All the other corpses have been collected as well, placed in body wraps. Those who're still alive are being wheeled off to the station for interrogation purposes.
Such would have been Dylan's fate too if Adrian hadn't put his foot down and demanded that he stay.
"Adrian!"
Now, it is his turn to be collected. Irish steps out of the car while Anthony and Bryan clamber out from the backseat.
"Thank goodness, Adrian!"
Irish rushes over before proceeding to inspect Adrian's face frantically.
Ever since this whole mess started, she's been acting more and more like a big sister. What she said to their grandfather earlier was all true - she's really, really trying her best.
"I'm glad to see you're fine. Where are Asher and the others?" she asked, worried.
"At the hospital..." he answered grimly.
"But it's not Asher. It's Cassidy."
"What?! Why?!"
"Stabbed. But she might have a chance. You three have to go to the hospital."
Adrian is taken aback to hear how pained his voice is. He looks wearily at Irish's hesitant expression.
"Someone needs to keep Asher in check," he then added wryly.
"And you?"
"I'll be with Edward. We'll wrap things up over here."
Adrian pauses then smiles at the three of them genuinely. With evident gratitude, he goes on to say, "Thank you for your help tonight, everyone."
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