Five Years Wasted Now They Beg Her Back novel Chapter 404

“Aah!” Alistair Hart screamed and scrambled into the corner. “Stay away! Lauren Hawke, stay away from me!”

“If you hadn’t done anything to wrong her, why would Mom come looking for you?”

Damien couldn’t be bothered to watch the old man’s act. He pulled up a chair for Grace to sit.

“Alistair Hart, I hear you’re dying.” A smirk played on Damien’s lips. “Perfect. You can clear things up before you go. Saves you the trouble of trying to plead your case when you’re finally standing before your Maker.”

Dorian looked on, a storm of conflicting emotions inside him.

“Grace, Dad is already in this state, you…”

“Shut up.” Damien shot him a cold glare. “This isn’t your place to speak. Five hundred thousand dollars for hush money, Dorian. Are you trying to get your own tongue cut out?”

The color drained from Dorian’s face. He staggered back a few steps, staring at Damien in disbelief. They… they knew?

Hearing this, Alistair Hart also froze, then began to cough violently, spitting up a mouthful of blood.

“Grace…”

Realizing his end was near, Alistair Hart struggled to grab Grace’s hand.

Quick as a flash, Damien kicked his hand away.

“If you have something to say, say it. Don’t touch her.”

Alistair Hart’s hand froze in mid-air, his face a pathetic mask of tears and raw, unfiltered misery.

“Oh, Grace… I’m so sorry… I’m even sorrier for what I did to your mother…”

“I’m a bastard… I was terrible to you. I was such a fool…”

Grace watched him without a flicker of emotion.

If he had shown even a shred of compassion when her blood was being drawn, or when she had knelt in the rain begging him, she might have been moved.

But now, it was too late.

“Dad, spare me the useless words,” Grace interrupted coolly. “I only came here today to ask you one thing. How did Mom really die?”

“The real diary… not the fakes I created…”

“Where is it?” A sharp, electric jolt shot through Grace, her breath hitching as the possibility finally felt real.

“The attic of the old house… under the third floorboard…”

Alistair Hart’s voice grew fainter, his gaze losing focus.

He stared at a point in the empty space before him, as if he could see the Lauren Hawke of all those years ago.

“Grace… your brother Dorian… he’s so much like I was when I was young…”

“Indecisive… and greedy… wanting both reputation and profit…”

“Don’t trust him… Don’t trust anyone…”

After saying this, a murky gurgle escaped Alistair Hart’s throat. His head lolled to the side, and he stopped breathing.