Her fifth daughter died, so she deleted his bloodline. novel Chapter 170

Chapter 23

Sloane’s hands and feet were tied, and she couldn’t move an inch. She shut her eyes in despair.

But just then. Declan dragged himself over to her, inch by inch, across the grimy floor. Somehow, he’d found a discarded

gas mask in the corner, and with the last of his strength, he put it on her.

“Declan… if you do this, you’ll die…”

Her trembling hands tried to push him away, but even she didn’t realize-she was crying.

One of her tears fell onto his fingers. He wiped it away gently and let out a weak chuckle. “But you’ll live.”

Sometimes, humans are creatures of such maddening contradictions.

Love and hatred can coexist. Disgust and longing can share the same breath.

Even years later, Sloane would never quite understand what that tear meant-or who it was for.

Toxic gas began to flood the air, thick and suffocating. Declan collapsed by her side without another sound. Her own consciousness started slipping. She reached out to shake him, whispering, pleading for him to hang on just a little longer.

And then-faint but unmistakable-the sound of sirens blared outside the warehouse.

Sloane didn’t know how long she had slept. When she finally opened her eyes, she was in a hospital bed.

She tried to move her fingers. As she saw Devlin, she sat up in a panic.

“Don’t be scared.” Devlin said quickly, reaching out to steady her. “It’s over. You’re safe now. He’s alive, too. He inhaled too much toxic gas. There’s significant organ damage. He’ll live-but with permanent complications.”

For the first time since it happened, Sloane truly felt what it meant to survive.

She murmured, “That day…”

Devlin sighed. “I was the one who called the police. I couldn’t reach you. Your phone was off. I had to pull some strings and we traced your location just in time.”

Sloane remained in the hospital for a week. On the day of her discharge, Declan had just regained consciousness in the

ICU.

She went to see him.

A bouquet of white bellflowers sat quietly by his bedside. Sloane looked at it for a moment before speaking. “Your body still needs time. When you’re stable, Devlin’s people will arrange for your return to Riverstone.”

“Will I… see you again?” His voice was hoarse-like every word scraped against his throat.

Chapter 23

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Sloane didn’t answer directly. “I’ll be living overseas for the foreseeable future. Unless there’s an emergency… I don’t plan

on coming back.”

And with that, she turned and walked away.

Declan lay motionless in bed, his vision blurred by unshed tears, watching her disappear out the door.

Two years later, Vivienne’s trial was finally held in Riverstone.

The case dragged on for years, not just because of the complexity, but because the Blake family-once the wealthiest in

the city-was deeply entangled in it.

But by then, their empire had already crumbled. Tied to murder, financial crimes, and abuse, the Blakes fell hard and

fast-right into bankruptcy.

As for Vivienne, she was convicted of multiple charges-intent to kill, torture, kidnapping-and sentenced to life behind

bars.

That day. Sloane returned to Riverstone just to witness the sentencing in person.

After the court session, with everything finally behind her, she stepped outside, answering a phone call as she walked

down the stairs.

Devlin’s car was parked at the curb.

“Over here,” he called, walking up with a warm smile.

He took her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I stood in line for three hours, but I got it-the apple rose pastry you’ve been wanting to try.”

Sloane nudged him toward the car. “Alright, enough. If we don’t hurry, we’re going to miss our flight.”

They walked down the courthouse steps together, shoulders touching, figures bathed in the golden glow of the setting

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