The bodyguard placed Jeffery carefully onto the backseat opposite Rita. His breathing was shallow, and blood seeped through his shirt, staining the seat.
“Drive,” Rita ordered, and the car zoomed away from the alleyway.
She stared at the man in front of her, her brows furrowing even tighter as she remembered her grandfather's instructions.
Ever since she had entered Oakdale City, she had felt the silver bracelet on her wrist growing increasingly hot, especially when she sat close to this man.
She adjusted the bracelet on her wrist, wincing as it grew hotter, and her grandfather's words echoed in her mind.
“Your top priority in Oakdale isn't family business, although that’s important. It is to find your fiancé.”
She had asked her grandfather for further details, like his name and where he stayed, but he never provided any useful information, only hinting that the silver bracelet would reveal the answers when she met him.
“Could it be him?” she muttered, studying Jeffery's unconscious form.
Grandpa once told him that her fiancé was the childhood friend who often came to their family estate.
That little boy would often come with his dad to visit her grandpa.
At that time, they would frequently play together in the garden of the estate.
That little boy was gentle and brave, and she really liked him.
But later, they never showed up again.
So many years have passed that she had almost forgotten what he looked like.
She looked at the injured man now, carefully searching his face for familiar traces.
The heat from her bracelet was unmistakable—it had to be him.
She was thankful they had met, sparing her the hassle of searching the city.
“Miss Stirling, do we head to the estate?” the driver asked.
“No, take us to Saint Helena Hospital. Inform the doctors to prepare for emergency surgery. He won't make it otherwise.”
“Yes, Miss Stirling.”
Rita nodded, her gaze landing back on Jeffery, her eyes showing a hint of concern. “I hope you can survive so I can get to know you better.”
However, neither Rita nor the guards noticed the silver bracelet on Jeffery's wrist, covered by his sleeve, suddenly emit a faint glow as if a trigger had been switched on.
It shone for a few seconds, then transformed into an energy sphere that dissolved into his body.
In his unconscious state, Jeffery felt like he was in pitch-black darkness.
The light made him squint his eyes. He blinked, adjusting to the extreme brightness, then rubbed his eyes.
Floating before him was a tall, majestic man who gazed at him with love and care. The aura surrounding the man made him seem godlike, and Jeffery felt the faint urge to bow before him.
“Where am I? Who...are you?” Jeffery asked.
“You've grown into a strong man, my son,” the man said with a smile of affection.
“Son? What are you talking about?”.
His heart raced as he tried to deny the possibility.
From a young age, he had been mocked and bullied by his peers for not having a father, often called a bastard.
He had no memory of his father for years.
So, when this godlike man claimed to be his father, Jeffery's thought process was turned upside down.
“My son, I don't have much time left. Listen and listen well. I am no longer on this earth! This…form is merely a spirit I left in the philosopher's stone embedded in the bracelet you wear.”
“When you and your fiancée meet and the philosopher stones in each of your respective bracelets come into contact, you will receive my supreme inheritance.”
“If you are wretched, your fiancée's family will make you wealthy beyond compare.”
“If you are a genius, compatible with alchemy, then, with my inheritance, nothing can stand in your way on Earth.”
“I am looking forward to seeing you, my son. Remember my name: I am Luka Flamel, the greatest alchemist in the universe.”
After conveying the message, the light around him began to dissipate.
“No, wait!” Jeffery moved, trying to reach him.
But it was futile. The spirit dissipated into nothingness, leaving the space in darkness once again.
Suddenly, he grabbed his head and screamed in pain as he felt a massive overload of memories infusing themselves into his psyche.
Finally, as if eons had passed, Jeffery opened his eyes, and a dazzling light shone through them, causing the space to collapse.
He squinted his eyes and woke up in the real world, grunting as he found himself sitting on a luxurious bed. The room oozed wealth and class.
When he turned, he came face to face with a peerless beauty who stole his breath.
Latest Chapter
CHAPTER 230
The phone rang once. Twice. Then the line clicked."Rita?" the voice was sharp, calm, almost distant, but beneath it, she could hear the undercurrent of exhaustion—the weight of a man who carried more than anyone should."Jeffery..." she whispered, the tension in her throat cracking her voice. "I... I saw the news—about Ronan Blake—""Rita!" his voice snapped suddenly like a whip, cutting through the static of her panic. "Why the hell are you calling me? Didn't I tell you? Stay out of this! Don't reach out! It's not safe at all! You could—""I had to know," she interrupted, tears threatening to spill. "I needed to hear it from you. I couldn't just... sit there and do nothing—"His sigh was long, a mix of frustration, fear, and helplessness. "Do you even understand what you're putting yourself through? Or what you're doing to me by calling? I told you, Rita... this isn't safe. Not for you. Not for anyone. You reach out, and suddenly, you're in the line of fire."She flinched at the raw
CHAPTER 229
Rita sat frozen at her desk, the screen glowing with images she could barely comprehend. The alley, slick with rain, cordoned off by police tape, shattered asphalt reflecting neon light—every detail was seared deeply into her mind. Ronan Blake. Suspected Armed robber. Murdered. J recognizable.Her fingers trembled, hovering over the phone. She wanted to call Jeffery, needed to hear his voice, to confirm that the man loved could never do something so monstrous. To be honest, Jeffery had killed but it had never been brutal like last night's. And it was always because Rita's life had been endangered.But... what if she was wrong? What if he had actually done it? The thought made her stomach twist into knots, bile rising like fire.She pressed her palms to her face, trying to steady her racing heart. Jeffery had warned her countless times: keep your life normal, maintain appearances. Pretend the world doesn't see you as linked to him. That advice had always been theoretical—now it was pai
CHAPTER 228
The office felt suddenly smaller, the air heavier, as the officers stepped closer to Rita's desk. Their presence carried the weight of accusation, the kind that didn't need words to make a heart pound. One of them cleared his throat, his tone careful but unyielding."Miss Stirling, we need to speak about an incident last night," he began, voice low but cutting through the quiet hum of the office. "That's the main reason we actually came here."Rita's eyebrows creased. What were they talking about? What happened last night?"A man was found dead in an alley in the East District," the officer continued. "There were blood spatters, marks everywhere. Whoever did this left the victim... unrecognizable."This doesn't have to do with Jeffery, right? Rita's hands tightened on the edge of her desk. Her voice trembled, disbelief creeping in. "Unrecognizable? What... what are you actually saying?"The second officer leaned in, his gaze sharp, unwavering. "You know Jeffery Flamel, correct?""Yes,
CHAPTER 227
Rita Stirling woke to the pale light of dawn filtering through the curtains of her penthouse, the city below still stirring in its usual rhythm. She lay for a long moment, staring at the ceiling, letting her mind wander to Jeffery. The thought of him still hiding in an unknown place, carrying the weight of suspicion for murders he hadn't committed—one perpetrated by Aadam Prescott—made her chest tighten. She had to appear normal, calmly, unshaken—her every move a shield against the scrutiny that now surrounded.Jeffery had told her this the last moment they had met. He didn't want her being arrested as well. It would really tarnish the name of the Stirling family and affect the company—something which neither of them wanted. So she had agreed to do just as he had said, till everything had been solved. And that included not reaching out to him no matter what.Her morning routine was precise, almost mechanical. Every gesture—sliding into her blazer, adjusting her cuffs, the careful appl
CHAPTER 226
Morning came slow. Not with the violent crash of storms or the roar of lightning, but in muted, hesitant whispers. Sunlight, filtered through the thick clouds, fell in sickly gold silvers across the cracked motel blinds. Dust motes floated in the beams like tiny specters. The room smelled of damp concrete and faint herbs, lingering from the previous night's alchemical work. The faint pulse of the Philosopher's Stone nearby cast its soft glow, as if marking the passage of the night Jeffery had just endured.Jeffery stirred, the weight of exhaustion still draped over him like a second storm. His body ached—the remnants of the storm, of the rooftop confrontation, of controlling the mutated men—aching in quiet, insistent protest. But his mind, though fatigued, had begun to awaken. It prowled, like a wolf stretching after sleep, circling the corners of strategy, probability, and consequence.He sat up slowly, blanket slipping from his shoulders. The cot creaked under his weight, the sound
CHAPTER 225
The rain had subsided, leaving the city slick and glimmering under the faint glow of neon signs. The streets hissed with the last whispers of storm water, gutters carrying secrets down to the sewers.Jeffery moved like a shadow over puddle-slick asphalt, each step slow, deliberate, carrying the exhaustion of a body and mind pushed to their limits.The night's chaos lingered like a phantom across his shoulders. Mutated men had fled; the threat had been defused—for now—but the weight of responsibility pressed against his chest like iron chains. He could feel every pulse of the Philosopher's Stone beneath his coat, a quiet heartbeat echoing the storm that had passed but left scars in its wake.The city smelled of wet concrete and ozone, a scent that always reminded him of beginnings and endings at the same time. He inhaled deeply, letting it fill his lungs, steadying his Qi, centering himself.Every step toward the motel was both relief and dread. Relief because he could finally rest. Dr
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