Chapter 69
Author: Mel Hope
last update2025-08-15 22:58:21
While the security went to get the footage, he moved down the hospital corridor.

Upon reaching Florence's ward, his eyes immediately fell on her fragile frame lying on the hospital bed.

Florence no longer looked like the vibrant woman he remembered.

Instead, she was pale and her once warm skin now drained of color.

The machines around her hummed and beeped in a steady rhythm with the wires running into her veins.

Antonio froze for a moment and his throat burned with a mixture of anger and despair.

How had she withered away like this in such a short time?

Only a few days ago, Florence had been full of energy—so much so that she even stepped in while he was trying to stabilize Matilda’s condition.

Now, she looked like a shadow—so frail that even the weight of a blanket seemed too heavy for her body.

The doctors were moving quickly around her with their faces tensed and their hands adjusting equipment, checking her pulse, and changing IV bags.

Antonio sat silentl
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  • Chapter 265

    The room was thick with dread.Every breath carried the stench of fear, medicine, and desperation. Marianne’s trembling form lay in the center of it all—half-conscious, half-lost in her suffering—as the family, servants, and attendants crowded around her bed. Her once vibrant face was pale, lips cracked, eyelids fluttering as though trapped between sleep and death. The sound of her labored breathing filled the silence, each wheeze pulling at the hearts of those around her.There was something about the smell of the herbs that unsettled everyone; it was at once natural and dangerous.Gently, Antonio scooped a small portion of the herbs with his thumb and forefinger, dropping them into the cup of water. The mixture began to swirl slowly, faint clouds blooming within the liquid as he stirred it with his finger. Cynthia’s heart raced faster as the water changed color—pale and cloudy, releasing a faint fragrance that tingled in the air.When he was done, Antonio turned toward the bed.

  • Chapter 264

    The house was in complete disarray when Antonio and Cynthia stepped through the door. Shouts echoed through the wide hallway, women were crying, and men stood arguing in corners while servants rushed back and forth, unsure of what to do.The air was heavy with panic — it smelled of fear, sickness, and confusion all tangled into one unbearable stench.Cynthia’s heart pounded as she scanned the faces around the room, most of whom were her relatives or neighbors who had gathered after hearing that her mother’s condition had worsened. The moment she entered, several of them rushed toward her, speaking all at once, asking questions, blaming one another, and crowding her until she could hardly breathe.“Please!” she shouted, raising her hands. “Everyone, calm down! Please, just give us space!”Her voice, though trembling, carried a tone of authority that silenced the chaos for a brief second. “Let us attend to her. I’m begging you — please step aside. Just let us help her!”There was he

  • Chapter 263

    Cynthia’s breath caught. Then, before anyone could react, she lunged forward and snatched the foil-wrapped bundle from Matilda’s trembling hands.She held it close to her chest, her fingers gripping it so tightly that the shiny metal crinkled beneath her palms. For a moment, she simply stood there.“Matilda…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You have no idea what this means to me. To us.”Matilda gave a faint, weary smile. “I think I do, dear sister. I only pray it’s not too late.”Tears stung Cynthia’s eyes. She wanted to hug Matilda, to pour out every ounce of gratitude she felt, but there was no time. Every minute that passed felt like a thief stealing another breath from her mother.“Thank you,” Cynthia breathed. “Thank you so much.”She turned sharply toward the maid who had been standing quietly by the door, watching the scene unfold. The girl looked young—maybe in her early twenties—her eyes wide with concern and confusion.“Listen to me,” Cynthia said, firmly. “Matilda

  • Chapter 262

    Cynthia leaned forward, curious. Antonio stayed silent but alert, his sharp gaze fixed on Matilda. The air in the room seemed to thicken with mystery and anticipation, as though something long buried was about to come to light.Matilda’s wrinkled fingers trembled slightly as she worked on the last knot of the old cloth bundle. The sound of the unraveling string echoed faintly in the quiet room. When the final knot came undone, a glimmer of light caught Cynthia’s eyes. It was foil—bright, shiny, and reflective, catching every streak of sunlight that filtered through the window.Matilda unwrapped it slowly, carefully, as if handling something sacred. Inside the foil were several small, dried herbs, each meticulously packed and pressed together. The faint scent of earth and age rose from them, sharp yet strangely soothing, as if time itself lingered in the aroma.Cynthia frowned, her brows knitting in confusion. “What is this?” she asked softly, her voice breaking the hush.Matilda di

  • Chapter 261

    The tension in the room deepened the moment Cynthia’s trembling words left her lips. Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried the weight of desperation. Her hands were clasped together tightly, knuckles pale, her eyes searching Matilda’s face for even the faintest glimmer of confirmation.“Antonio said you have the solution to my mother’s illness,” she repeated, this time more shakily. “Please, Matilda… please tell me is it true you have the solution to my mother’s illness?"Matilda’s eyelids fluttered weakly as she turned her head toward Antonio. Her brow furrowed, deep lines cutting across her forehead with her expression caught between disbelief and confusion. “What… what did she just say?” she asked softly as though the words themselves had no meaning yet.Antonio’s gaze met hers. “You heard her right,” he said quietly. “You have the answer, Matilda.”For a heartbeat, time itself seemed to pause. The faint hum of the overhead fluorescent light became the only sou

  • Chapter 260

    Cynthia watched in breathless anticipation as Antonio leaned over Matilda. Every motion he made was slow, deliberate, and filled with an eerie calm that contrasted sharply with the chaos that had overtaken the ward only moments before. He reached into his small brown satchel, and drew out a faded pouch tied with a fraying cord. The scent that escaped when he loosened it was unlike anything Cynthia had ever smelled—earthy and sharp, like rain-soaked soil mingled with iron and something faintly sweet. Inside were crushed herbs and dried leaves, glinting faintly under the harsh fluorescent light. Their color shifted between green and bronze, giving off a faint metallic sheen that caught the eye.The nurses hesitated nearby, exchanging uncertain looks. None of them recognized what Antonio was doing, yet none dared to interrupt. His presence had a quiet authority that demanded obedience without a single word.Antonio took a small portion of the crushed herbs and mixed them carefully i

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