Felicia left the Walsh residence immediately after her confrontation. Yet, as she walked away, her mind was a turmoil. Perhaps her parents were right; she was cold, ungrateful, and incapable of familial love or loyalty. Even with Clive dying, she’d rejected his request without hesitation, even announcing her intention to open her own medical center. Her words must have felt like daggers.

But Clive’s words had wounded her deeply as well. Hidden beneath a veneer of family concern lay an attempt to manipulate her into becoming a pawn for the Walshes and Harmony Medical Center.

Frustrated, Felicia shook her head. Lost in thought, she failed to notice two men in black suits approaching silently. Before she could react, a hand clamped over her face. She struggled, trying to scream.

Instinct took over. Her fingers flew to her pocket, where she kept a vial of homemade poison powder. She was about to use it, but her captors were prepared. They instantly incapacitated her with an electroshock. Her body went limp, collapsing into waiting hands.

Just before darkness consumed her, Felicia glimpsed Arnold’s face. His lips were thin as he spoke softly. "That bastard!" she thought. Rage burned, but the weight of unconsciousness was irresistible, and everything went black.

Arnold effortlessly lifted her into his car. The vehicle sped through the night, heading towards the Lawson residence.

Inside, Matthew was painting, discarding sheet after sheet of unsatisfactory work. His dissatisfaction vanished the moment he heard the car and saw Arnold carrying Felicia. "Go on," he said simply.

Arnold nodded and took Felicia to his room. Unconscious, she appeared serene. Her delicate features, long lashes, and soft, red lips were breathtaking. He recalled their first encounter: seeing her drive past his family's villa. Even now, he couldn't deny the lasting impression she'd made.

Meanwhile, a sleek Maybach sat outside Felicia's apartment building. Its taillights glowed in the darkness. Inside, someone had been waiting for over half an hour.

Stephan sat in the backseat, eyes closed. "Is Felicia still not back?" he asked.

"No, sir," replied Morgan, his driver, checking his watch. "Her phone isn't connecting either. Do you think something might have happened?"

Stephan's eyes snapped open. "Find out where she is and ensure she's safe. If anything has gone wrong..." His voice dropped, hardening. If anything happened to Felicia, he would find whoever dared to touch what was his.