Between Ruin And Resolve My Ex-Husband's Regret novel Chapter 471

Chapter 471 The Only Explanation That Made…

Hailey offered a satisfied smile. “Go on. Get some rest.”

She gave a small wave, casually dismissing the driver.

Relieved, he didn’t hesitate–slipping behind the wheel and pulling away from the villa, tires crunching softly against the

gravel.

Hailey stood still, eyes following the car until it vanished into the horizon. The moment it was gone, her smile fell like a

mask dropping. In its place—ice. Cold. Calculated. Unforgiving. She wouldn’t let Sadie steal what belonged to her. Not now.

Not ever.

At Riverside Villa, the morning air was still. Briley emerged, half–awake, lazily slinging her bag over one shoulder as she

prepared to leave.

Coyle was sitting on the leather sofa, flipping through a stack of glossy photographs. Elegant smiles, poised stances–young women from Jazmah’s most influential families. Each was a potential match for his son, Sutton, in his grand plan to secure the future of his family.

Then–A scream tore through the quiet.

“Ahhh!”

Coyle’s brow creased, irritation surfacing.

What was this?

He grabbed his cane and got up to check what was happening.

His voice echoed down the hall, sharp and disapproving. “What now, Briley? Why the hell are you screaming at this hour?”

Briley stumbled back inside, face drained of color, her finger trembling as she pointed toward the door.

“Dad… outside… there’s someone–covered in blood–it’s awful! I think it’s a vagrant or something!”

A vagrant? Here?

Coyle’s frown deepened. He made his way to the entrance, cane tapping steadily across the floor.

And then he saw it–A figure sprawled at the villa’s threshold, crumpled and soaked in grime and blood. His hair was matted, clothes torn, face barely recognizable.

“Help… please, help me…”

Coyle leaned in, taking a closer look.

His breath caught. It wasn’t a vagrant. It was Sutton. His son.

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<Chapter 471 The Only Explanation That Made Sense

“Sutton!”

Coyle’s roar echoed through the villa as he rushed forward, barking orders for someone to bring his son to the nearest

hospital.

Briley was pale as a ghost, barely registering the chaos around her.

At the hospital, the antiseptic scent did nothing to mask the dread thickening in Coyle’s chest. The doctor emerged at last,

his expression grim.

“Mr. Wall,” he said gently, “I’m very sorry. We did everything we could. Your son has sustained multiple injuries—five

broken ribs, a crushed femur. His left leg… we had no choice. It had to be amputated.”

The doctor hesitated, then added, more quietly, “There’s more. His reproductive organs were… deliberately targeted. I’m

afraid this will impact the rest of his life in ways we can’t yet fully measure.”

Coyle staggered as if struck, his face draining of color.

His heir–his only son–was destroyed.

It felt like the sky had cracked open and come crashing down.

Briley rushed to his side, catching his arm.

“Dad! Are you alright?”

But Coyle couldn’t answer. Words abandoned him. His lungs refused to draw breath.

There was only the crushing weight of devastation pressing on his chest.

Hours blurred into a sleepless night. At dawn, Sutton finally stirred.

His eyes fluttered open–and then he saw it.

“My leg… What–where’s my leg?” His voice rose into a raw, animal scream. “No–no! It’s gone! They took my leg! They’ll pay for this! I’ll make them pay!”

Coyle stood at his son’s bedside, trembling, tears silently streaking his weathered face.

“Sutton… don’t be afraid,” he choked out, gripping his son’s hand. “I’m here. And I swear–I’ll make them pay for every drop of blood.”

Sutton clutched his father’s arm, desperation turning into fury. “Revenge, Dad! You have to get revenge for me! It was Noah!” Sutton’s voice cracked with rage and disbelief. “That bastard–he’s not dead! He’s alive! He’s Patrick! Patrick Noel is Noah! He did this to me! He’s the one who ruined me!”

The words slammed into Coyle like a punch to the chest.

Patrick… was Noah?

His blood ran cold. His mind raced.

“Shut your mouth!” Coyle barked. “You’re delirious–how could Patrick possibly be Noah? Have you completely lost your senses?”

Coyle tried to hide the shock within him.

If it was true…

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If Nosh had survived.

And if he knew what they did three years ago.

Then his entire family was already living on borrowed time.

Rage boiled in Coyle’s throat. He nearly choked on it.

Meanwhile, Sutton clung to his father like a man drowning, voice rising into a manic plea.

“I swear it’s true, Dad! I saw his face! I know it was him! He carne after me he made me like this!” Tears streamed doors

Sutton’s face, raw and uncontrollable.

“You have to believe me! You have to get revenge for me!”

Coyle stared at his son, his expression unreadable.

He wanted to dismiss it. Call it trauma–fueled nonsense.

But Sutton’s eyes–wild, glassy, desperate- weren’t the eyes of a liar.

Something inside Coyle twisted.

If Noah was still alive… Then who was in the urn?