Chapter 543 Stop Him

The piercing squeal of rubber against pavement split the air when the UberEats scooter skidded sideways and slammed into Wade.

The blow rocked his body. His knees almost buckled as he threw his arms up over the back of his head, fighting to keep himself upright.

The delivery man leapt off his scooter, fury blazing in his eyes.

“Are you out of your damn mind?” he shouted, his voice cracking with outrage. “You almost got yourself killed! My order’s ruined, my scooter’s trashed, and you’re paying me back. Every last cent!”

Wade looked down at his palm, skin torn and bleeding where he’d hit the ground. He didn’t argue. He yanked his wallet from his pocket, pulled out a thick bundle of bills – over six thousand dollars – and shoved it into the man’s hand before taking off toward Russell without another word.

The delivery man froze in place, staring at the money like he couldn’t believe what he was holding. That was far too much.

The commotion pulled Russell’s attention.

He had been seconds away from stepping through the front doors of Tilda’s apartment building, but the sight of Wade, bruised, limping, and rushing toward him, made him stop in his tracks.

“Wade?” Russell’s voice was sharp with shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Dad…” Wade’s breath trembled. "I’m sorry. I followed you. I couldn’t just let you come here on your own. I was scared for you.”

His chest heaved as his words tumbled out.

“Please, Dad. Come back with me. Don’t go to Tilda. Don’t tell her about Mom. Tilda already hates us, and if you push this, she’ll only hate us more. She’ll turn it on Mom too.”

Pain colored every syllable, yet Wade still reached for his father’s arm, clutching it as though he could physically drag him back. He couldn’t stand to watch his father humble himself this way.

Russell’s eyes hardened with resolve.

“I know, Wade. I know all of that,” he said, his voice steady, though a tremor of emotion pressed against it. “But I have to see Tilda. This isn’t about me. This is your mother’s wish. She may not realize it, but she told me herself.”

His voice broke with conviction. “If Tilda were to come see her, if she spoke even one word to her, I believe Blair would open her eyes again.”

“What…”

Wade stood still, stunned. He had never imagined this came from Blair herself.

He searched Russell’s face and saw the unwavering determination there. His grip loosened, and his hand fell back at his side.

“Dad… when you went into Mom’s ICU room, is that what she asked of you? Is that why you’re here?”

“Yes,” Russell answered heavily. “Blair’s been burying her longing for Tilda all these years. She never let us see it, but it’s been there, cutting into her heart like glass."

"I thought she had forced herself to bury it, even if she couldn’t forget. I thought she could keep living without Tilda."

“But I was wrong. The moment she lost consciousness, she whispered an apology to me. That was when I knew. As her husband, this is the one thing I can still do for her.”

Silence.

Wade shut his eyes.

When he opened them again, resolve shone in his gaze.

“I get it. If this is what Mom wants, then let me stay with you, Dad.”

Both men understood what they were walking into.

Tilda had never shown an ounce of pity for the Jensons. If she had, they wouldn’t have carried their suffering this long.

She wouldn’t forgive. She wouldn’t return. She wouldn’t bend.

But for Blair, they would try anyway.

Together, Russell and Wade approached the security office at the building’s entrance.

The guards stiffened immediately. Even without knowing who they were, they could sense these weren’t ordinary visitors. This was the wealthiest part of Slosa, and the guards were used to recognizing power when they saw it.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” one of the guards greeted politely. “What business brings you here? Entry requires a resident’s keycard.”

Russell stepped forward. “I need to ask about a resident named Tilda. Did she use her card to leave today?”

The guard’s face darkened with caution. “I’m sorry, sir. We can’t share information about the residents’ movements. That’s private.”

Ever since Tilda’s rise to fame, strangers had shown up almost every day, desperate to pry into her life. The guards had turned countless people away.

“I’m her father,” Russell said, his voice hoarse with pleading. “Please. Help me reach her. Tell her I’m here. Tell her this is about something more important than my life, and I need to see her face to face.”

The guard froze, eyes widening as recognition swept across his face.

“You’re…”

The stories rushed back. No wonder the man looked familiar. He recognized the guy the moment he spoke.

This was Russell Jenson, chairman of Jenson Group.

Tilda’s father.

The man whose public fallout with his daughter had once been the scandal of Slosa.

And now he was standing here, humbled and begging.

The guard hesitated, torn, then finally gave a slow nod.

“If you really are her father… I don’t know what happened between you and your daughter, but I’ll try to reach her. I can’t promise she’ll respond, but I’ll try.”

The guard would rather not get into trouble over this. If Tilda tried to rain her wrath on them, he would bear the brunt of it.

Russell’s shoulders eased with relief. “Thank you. I won’t forget this. If you ever need me, I’ll be there.”

The scene shifts to Tilda’s apartment.