But to his surprise, the voice that came through the phone was not Geraldine’s, but a familiar woman’s angry shout: “Oliver, you bastard, what right do you have to talk about Gerrie?”
“Have you ever
investigated who kidnapped the child? You so easily suspect the person you’ve been married to for five years and known for twelve. Gerrie must have been blind to end up with someone like you. What bad luck!”
The barrage of insults left Oliver stunned, and by the time he came to his senses, the call had already been hung up.
His heavy brows furrowed tightly, and the hostility radiating from him grew stronger and stronger.
Then he remembered.
The owner of that voice was Geraldine’s best friend, Alayah.
The man loosened his tie, his breathing becoming rapid.
He strode out, dialing a number, his voice icy.
“Find out where Alayah is right now!”
In the bar, Alayah was half–drunk, stumbling as she walked out.
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But outside the bar, Oliver pinned her against the wall, his hand gripping her throat.
His gaze was as sharp as a blade. “Why do you have Gerrie’s phone? What are you two playing at?”
Alayah frowned, and seeing who it was, she sobered up considerably.
She sneered, shaking off Oliver’s hand, her face full of mockery: “I have no interest in playing games with you.”
“Oliver, just the sight of you makes me sick! Get lost!”
Every time she saw him, she was reminded of all the suffering Geraldine had endured.
Anger surged in her chest, and she didn’t even dare to imagine—if she had a knife in her hand right now, would she stab him?
But Oliver grabbed her again: “I have no interest in arguing with you here either. Tell me, where is Gerrie?”
“Gerrie?”
Alayah stopped in her tracks, staring at him with sarcasm: “So you’ve been spending all your time with your mistress and your illegitimate child, huh? Oliver, if I had known you were this fickle, I never would have agreed to let Gerrie be with you.”
“As for where Gerrie is…” She suddenly paused, noticing the excitement in Oliver’s eyes, but deliberately shook her head: “Instead of asking me, have you even looked into it yourself?”
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“Oliver, those who betray true feelings will always pay the price for what they’ve done.”
Leaving those words behind, she turned and walked away.
This time, Oliver did not stop her.
He knew he would get nothing from Alayah, and at this moment, the unease in his heart grew stronger and stronger.
Oliver contacted his assistant to investigate Geraldine’s whereabouts.
After hanging up, he sat restlessly on the sofa.
In the end, he could only drive to find Shanice.
Since Shanice was also a woman, perhaps he could get some useful
clues from her.
At one o’clock in the morning, Oliver unlocked the door with his key. Guessing that the mother and daughter were already asleep, he entered quietly.
But just as he reached the door, he heard Estelle’s childish voice acting spoiled: “Mommy, didn’t you say the bad auntie was already dead and wouldn’t bother Daddy anymore? Then why did Daddy still go on a business trip?”
Oliver’s brow furrowed, and his hand, which was about to open the door, suddenly froze.
Who was this “bad auntie” supposed to be?
The first person that came to his mind was Geraldine.
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Then Shanice’s gentle voice came: “Your daddy doesn’t know about this yet, so he has to go back and check.”
“Once your daddy finds out the bad auntie is gone, he’ll stay with Essie and Mommy forever.”
Estelle laughed happily: “Then Mommy will belong only to us!”
“But Mommy…” she asked worriedly, “Is the bad auntie really never coming back?”
Shanice laughed, her voice firm and ruthless: “Of course. She will never come back.”
Oliver’s fists clenched tightly, his breathing growing rapid.
If at first he wasn’t sure who they were talking about, now it was all
too clear.
But why?
What did they mean by Gerrie would never come back?
Oliver instinctively wanted to push open the door and question Shanice about what exactly “never coming back” meant.
But his phone vibrated in his pocket, forcing him to suppress his emotions and step outside to answer the call.
On the phone, his assistant’s voice was tense and anxious.
“Mr. Houghton, we’ve investigated Mrs. Houghton’s whereabouts and
discovered…”
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“Discovered what?”
The assistant’s voice was so nervous it trembled: “Mr. Houghton…”
“Mrs. Houghton is dead…”
In an instant, it was like a bolt from the blue.
Oliver’s body was almost paralyzed, unable to recover for a long time.
He lowered his voice and took the elevator home.
“If you dare curse Mrs. Houghton again, get out of my house.”
The assistant spoke urgently: “Mr. Houghton, I’ve already sent all the information I found to your computer. You can check for yourself— Mrs. Houghton’s identity is already listed as deceased in the country.”
Oliver’s hand holding the phone trembled uncontrollably.
Distraught, he drove home, rushed into the study, and immediately opened the folder on his computer.
Frame by frame, he looked through all the contents before him.
His sharp, deep eyes turned red, and tears slid down from the corners of his eyes.
Oliver collapsed into the chair in despair, staring at the screen, his voice hoarse: “How could this happen?”
His Gerrie–how could she be dead?
