Chapter 392

The hospital room door swung open, and Wesley knew Charles had left. Despite his injuries, he dragged himself to Dahlia's room, pushing the door open with a face as pale as a ghost.

He locked the door behind him, his voice urgent, "Where's Sandy? Is she okay? Is she in pain?"

Wesley didn't even ask about Dahlia's condition; his mind was solely on Sandy.

Dahlia gave him a glance, staying silent. She was wary of the possibility that he might be recording their conversation.

Catching on, Wesley pulled at his hospital gown. "See? I didn't bring anything with me. I'm not recording. Happy now?"

The movement sent a sharp jolt of pain through him, and he broke out in a cold sweat.

"Wesley, what are you doing? That's not what I meant. You're overthinking this," Dahlia said, pretending to care.

"She's okay for now. No need to worry. Charles promised he'd look after Sandy and me. He won't ignore Sandy's condition."

Deep down, Dahlia wished Wesley would just disappear, but she couldn't show it. Until she got her hands on the evidence he had, she had to play nice.

the hook," Wesley's voice was cold

about? Sandy's my daughter. Do you think

Sandy. It wasn't on purpose. She's a part of me; how

unless you've raised a kid. Sometimes they push you to the edge, and you snap. Every time I did, I regretted

her words ridiculous. "Enough! Save your excuses. Just make sure Sandy stays

Charles around, Sandy will be fine.

If he had the power, he wouldn't have let Dahlia twist his

hospital room and climbed into her car. She started the engine and

red, and tears blurred her vision. Wesley's sudden betrayal was a tough pill to swallow, and Dahlia had

barely keeping it together.

belongs to

thought, she almost rear-ended another car, snapping

and a cold

to drive, she pulled

there, head on the steering wheel, she was wrapped in a heavy, oppressive mood, motionless for a long

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