Chapter 297: Why didn’t you send her home?
Davis slowly walked down the stairs after a refreshing bath. Dressed in a dark, crisp shirt and black pants, his hair damp and pushed back, his eyes closed and the tension in his shoulder palpable.
Now that Jessica was finally asleep, he could fully face the situation that had been waiting for him downstairs.
His sharp eyes scanned the living room from the top of the stairs. The house staff had long vanished, having wisely removed themselves from the unsettling presence and gruesome sight of the men tied up below.
Standing nearby was Ethan, alongside another guard whom Davis presumed Ethan had summoned.
Davis’ expression was cold and detached, void of emotion, as he descended the staircase—an action he had believed was impossible just a year ago. With several doctors declaring his situation beyond remedy, he has lost the hope and the will to walk again.
Yet, It was almost ironic: his first steps on this staircase back into action were not for his own decision, but to settle a score for the wife he was forced to marry as a crippled man. She had gradually become a presence, he couldn’t live without.
Each step he took down the stairs carried the weight of a reckoning and a score to settle. His appearance spelled doom for the intruders.
Jessica had been attacked not on the street, but in the one place that should have been safest. That alone made his blood boil, his fist clenched by his side.
If there was ever a moment to be reminded of his failures, this was it.
"Has my home really become so vulnerable that enemies can walk in without fear?" he thought bitterly.
He couldn’t deny it. Things had spiraled out of control—because he had let them. He had accepted defeat when he should have fought. He had stepped back when he should have stood tall.