Current location: Novel nest The Crimson Rose Reclaimed Chapter 11

"The Crimson Rose Reclaimed" Chapter 11

Following that, he retrieved the absolute last of his cash, using every cent to purchase the lowest-grade, harshest liquor available, tilting his head back to flood his throat with the burning alcohol.

His vision blurred under the influence of the heavy drink as he stared around the cramped, dilapidated room. Recalling every thread of glory from his past, he closed his eyes in absolute agony, ultimately collapsing onto the floor as he lost consciousness entirely.

He lost all track of time until a subtle, rustling friction jolted him awake.

Desperately forcing his heavy eyelids open, his eyes went wide as he witnessed Stella slipping back into the room like a ghost, stealthily rummaging through the pockets of his discarded coat.

Nate was hovering closely behind her like a tiny shadow, systematically pouring out his grievances, "...Mommy Stella, that bad woman hit Daddy again today, and she even declared she isn't my mother, telling me to come find you... She is the absolute worst! Mommy Stella, you have to curse her for me..."

Stella’s entire attention was locked onto the coat before her. Hearing Nate’s relentless babbling, her brows knitted in profound irritation as she snapped in a sharp whisper.

"Enough, I heard you, stop barking!"

Yet Nate, having finally secured his "backyard anchor," refused to stop. Instead, he reached out to grasp Stella’s arm, tugging at it, "Mommy Stella, play with me! Daddy is asleep, nobody is paying attention to me..."

"Get off me! You're annoying!" Wrenched by his grip, the accumulated fury in Stella's chest exploded instantly. She violently swung her arm back, intending to wrench herself free from Nate's friction.

Yet Nate was nothing more than a small child; how could he ever withstand her physical force?

His tiny silhouette instantly lost all balance, stumbling backward with absolute violence!

A sudden, thunderous crash echoed through the space. The heavy sound shattered Shane's intoxication instantly, and he leaped to his feet.

"Nate?!"

He stumbled blindly out of the room, his eyes stretching wide in pure horror.

There lay Nate’s tiny body, curled in a broken heap at the bottom landing of the stairwell, crimson blood cascading down his pale face.

"Nate!" Driven by a soul-shattering terror, Shane charged down the stairs in three desperate strides, his hand trembling violently as he reached out to check the child's respiration.

Stella recovered her senses, a flash of intense vexation flitting through her eyes.

She instantly smoothed her features into a mask of frantic panic, throwing herself down beside Nate as her voice broke into a weeping lament, "Nate! Nate, speak to me! I am so sorry, this is all Mommy Stella's fault, I didn't mean to do it, I was just... I just accidentally..."

Shane currently possessed absolutely zero capacity to process her manipulations.

He scooped his unconscious son up in his arms, roaring at Stella with a murderous fury.

"Shut your mouth! Call a cab! Get us to the hospital!"

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They sped frantically toward the medical center, the harsh lights of the emergency room piercingly bright.

Following a comprehensive evaluation, the physician announced with an exceptionally heavy expression, "The child has sustained a severe fracture to his left leg and requires immediate surgery. The laceration on his forehead is relatively superficial, but there is an imminent risk of a mild concussion; we must keep him under close observation."

Shane felt a sudden constriction in his throat. Burying his hands in his disheveled hair, he let out a low, muffled groan of absolute agony.

Holding a wet tissue, Stella moved forward, intending to cleanse the crimson blood from Nate’s forehead, her voice dripping with artificial tenderness, "Nate, be good, don't be afraid, Mommy Stella is right here keeping you company..."

However, the exact fraction of a second before her fingers brushed against his skin, the child's eyes snapped open.

Chapter 17

The moment Nate caught sight of Stella's deceptive face, memories of the past flooded his mind. He quickly recoiled, his voice breaking into a tearful whimper.

"Ah! No! Stay away!"

Stella's hand froze mid-air, a flash of annoyance flitting through her eyes.

Yet she quickly smoothed her features into a gentle, soothing persona, "There, there, Mommy Stella won't touch you, I won't touch you... Be good, Nate, don't be afraid. It's Mommy Stella's fault..."

Staring into her cold eyes, Nate began to sob softly.

He suddenly recalled the times he had fallen sick with a fever in the past. Sienna would always stay by his side through the night, placing a cool, damp cloth over his forehead.

She would even go into the kitchen herself to simmer a bowl of warm, nourishing porridge, softly weaving bedtime stories for him until he fell fast asleep...

Sniffling back his tears, he reached out to tug at the corner of Shane's jacket, imploring, "Daddy... I... I want to see Mommy... Can you call Mommy? I want to speak to her... I miss her..."

Shane snapped back to reality, his heart aching intensely as he looked into his son's longing eyes.

He parted his lips, intending to refuse, wanting to tell him that Sienna would never come, but staring at the child's pale face, the words caught in his throat.

Rising in silence, he borrowed the phone from a nearby nurse, took a deep breath, and dialed that familiar sequence once more.

The line rang for an agonizingly long time before it was finally answered.

A detached yet unmistakable voice echoed from the receiver, "Hello, who is this?"

Shane's throat tightened, leaving him momentarily at a loss for words.

Yet Nate, drawing upon an inexplicable burst of strength on his hospital bed, choked out toward the receiver in a ragged voice, "Mommy... my leg hurts so much... I want to see you..."

An absolute, suffocating silence instantly plunged the room.

Shane clenched his fists in absolute panic, his palms slick with cold sweat.

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He quickly leaned over the bed, frantically gesturing and mouthing silent, urgent cues to Nate: "Quick, keep talking! Tell her you know you were wrong! Hurry!"

Receiving his father's silent prompt, Nate's tears cascaded even faster. He sputtered and choked into the receiver.

"Mommy, I know I was wrong. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that in the past, and I shouldn't have been so close to Mommy Stella while ignoring you..."

"But I was just a little kid, I didn't know any better. Mommy, please stop being angry with me, alright? I am your biological son, and you used to treat me with such devotion..."

"Mommy, please come see me, alright? I promise I will be obedient from now on..."

However, the other end of the line remained shrouded in a protracted silence.

After what felt like an eternity, Sienna's frigid voice drifted from the receiver.

"Are you finished speaking?"

"Shane Vance, I know full well you are listening on the other side."

"Using an injured child to manipulate my sympathy—this pathetic display of yours truly turns my stomach."

Shane's breath caught, his face instantly draining of all color.

Sienna issued a freezing warning, "Let me make this abundantly clear for the final time: do not harass me again, whether it is you or that child."

"If a next time manifests, I won't hesitate to compile every single thread of filthy history between you two into a comprehensive ledger and broadcast it to the public."

"When that happens, you and your son will become thoroughly infamous across Upper Manhattan!"

With that, she severed the line with absolute finality.

Shane stood frozen in place, his hand trembling violently as the last trace of color vanished from his features.

"Daddy... Mommy... Is Mommy refusing to come?" Deeply crushed, Nate erupted into a piercing sob once more. "Why doesn't she want me anymore? My leg hurts so much... Daddy, what are we going to do..."

Shane was already consumed by a chaotic mess of irritation, and the child's relentless wailing caused a blinding headache to tear through his mind.

He violently slammed the phone straight down onto the floor, a thunderous Crash shattering the air. The heavy sound instantly froze Nate's cries, leaving him staring at his father in absolute terror.

Chapter 18

Stella seized the distraction to stealthily slip back to the cramped room they had previously rented.

Meticulously tearing through his things, she rapidly located the spare credit card Shane had hidden, executing a series of swift online transfers to route every single cent into her personal offshore account.

Accomplishing her task, she let out a long sigh of relief, threw on designer sunglasses and a wide-brimmed hat, and slunk out of the motel like a ghost, planning to head straight for the station to flee Upper Manhattan.

However, the exact second she stepped clear of the motel, before she could even hail a cab, two towering men stepped out of the shadows, parrying her path from both sides.

"Miss Stella Lyne?" One of them flashed an official badge, his voice strictly professional. "We have received a formal criminal tip against you. Please come with us to cooperate with our investigation."

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