Chapter 77
Julian was truly furious.
He couldn’t understand what on earth Caitlin was playing at. Was she seriously trying to prove how important she was to him by showing up late on purpose? As if that would work.
If only she knew.
In Julian’s eyes, Caitlin was nothing more than a pile of garbage.
If it weren’t for his need to gain complete control over Apex Game Studios, he wouldn’t even spare her a glance. The very sight of her disgusted him.
Dalton’s expression was complicated when he heard Julian’s outburst. He weighed his words carefully before speaking. “Julian, I think Caitlin really isn’t the same person she used to be p>
Julian’s attempt to threaten Caitlin this way probably wasn’t going to have the effect he wanted.
There’s a saying: “When a woman has no man in her heart, she’s unstoppable.” And right now, that was exactly Caitlin.
“Not the same Caitlin? Who else could she be?” Julian shot Dalton a look of disdain. “You give her too much credit. What do you expect, that backwater nobody to somehow reinvent herself? No matter what mask she puts on, she’s still rotten to the core p>
Dalton met Julian’s gaze. “Julian, calm down and think about it. If Caitlin actually wanted to get back together with you, she wouldn’t have skipped out on today’s meeting p>
With the way Caitlin used to be, if she still loved Julian, she would have dropped everything and come running the moment he called. There wouldn’t have been any waiting-certainly not until now.
“She’ll come.” Julian narrowed his eyes at Dalton, his voice icy. “Your job is to pass along my message. Tell her to quit playing games with me-I’m sick of it! Enough is enough. She gets one last chance p>
With that, Julian spun on his heel and strode out. The Sylvester Group had just decided to team up with Apex Game Studios, dealing a heavy blow to The Chandler Group. He had a mountain of issues waiting for him at the office. He certainly didn’t have time to waste waiting around for Caitlin.
The Capital.
Gonzales Manor.
In the solemn, candlelit chapel, the silver-haired Keira Fairchild Gonzales knelt on a prayer cushion, hands clasped in earnest supplication. “Lord, please have mercy and help me find my poor daughter-in-law and granddaughter. Show me compassion-let this old woman’s dream of holding her grandchild come true.” When she finished, Keira bowed her head to the floor, her movements reverent and desperate.
She looked up at the statue of the Virgin, her eyes rimmed red and her forehead swollen from countless prostrations. “All my life I’ve lived in faith, never once strayed from Your path. Why, then, must I suffer such punishment? At my age, I should be surrounded by family, enjoying the laughter of children. Instead, my son has lain in a coma for nineteen years, my daughter-in-law vanished without a trace, and I don’t even know if my poor granddaughter is alive or dead p>
“If I have done wrong in some past life, punish me, Lord. Flay me, cast me into the depths of hell I can bear it. But why must my innocent grandchild suffer? Why must she be left to wander the world alone, enduring such hardship p>
“What did that child ever do to deserve this? What did she do p>
By the end, Keira’s face was streaked with tears, her voice barely more than a hoarse whisper.
“Mother, that’s enough, please get up,” a voice called from the doorway. Amanda Gonzales hurried over and gently helped Keira to her feet. “Your health isn’t what it used to be. You’ve been kneeling here since morning-your body can’t take it p>
Nineteen years ago.
Keira’s eldest son, Stuart Gonzales, had taken his wife Carey and their three- month-old daughter, Freya, back to the old family estate for a memorial service. No one could have predicted the tragedy that would strike when their car skidded off a mountain road and plunged down the ravine.
Stuart and his family were thrown from the wreck.
The driver died on the spot.
After that accident, Stuart was left in a vegetative state-he’s been lying unconscious for nineteen years.
Carey and baby Freya vanished without a trace. No sign. No word. Nothing.
People said wild animals must have gotten them, that mother and child didn’t stand a chance. But Keira refused to believe it. All these years, she’d kept searching, clinging to hope.
In her heart, if she hadn’t seen their bodies, they weren’t dead. Carey and her child had to be alive somewhere.
Maybe Carey lost her memory in the crash. Maybe she was out there, raising Freya in peace.
To help find the last living bloodline of the Gonzales family, Keira had spent years supporting rural communities-donating to schools, funding charities, pouring millions into outreach every year.
“Freya, my dearest Freya, when will you finally come home to your grandmother?” Keira clung to Amanda’s hand, her grief spilling over. Freya was just a nickname, but from the moment she was born, Keira had cherished that little girl, naming her as the future heir to the Gonzales family.