Chapter 792

But Carla seemed like a completely different person now—her eyes were wide and innocent, her expression vacant—yet she insisted on handing her little basket of flowers to Ivy. “Flowers… they’re pretty. You’re pretty too…”

Ivy, usually so sharp and quick-witted, was left utterly bewildered.

Seeing her son and daughter-in-law so tense and on guard, Adela Ludwig, already seated at the table, frowned in annoyance. “Your sister’s just giving you flowers—what are you hiding for? She isn’t going to hurt anyone now.”

Jamison instinctively wanted to argue with his mother, but Ivy quickly tugged his arm, signaling him not to rile up the old lady.

Stepping out from behind her husband, Ivy accepted the small flower basket from Carla. “Thank you, Carla.”

Carla smiled with the innocence of a child, her face open and slow. Then, at Adela’s invitation, she turned and took her place beside the older woman.

Holding the little basket, Ivy could barely contain her shock.

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined this day would come—Carla, who always bristled with hostility, was now offering her a handmade floral arrangement, and with a smile no less.

She and Jamison exchanged glances, both of them still stunned.

It had been a long time since the Ludwig Mansion felt so peaceful.

Ever since Jamison and Ivy got together, every visit home had ended in tension and arguments—especially back when Micah was around. The atmosphere then was nothing short of hellish.

No one could have guessed that, after such a final separation, all those bitter days would finally be over.

Even Carla, who once hated Ivy with every fiber of her being, seemed to have let go of her pain and was now friendly—almost forgetful of the past.

Adela watched this scene with quiet relief, though her feelings toward Ivy remained complicated.

She still couldn’t shake the belief that her grandson’s death was, in some way, Ivy’s fault.

But now, she couldn’t bring herself to care about anything except her daughter’s well-being. As long as Carla was safe and sound, that was all she could ask for.

During dinner, the conversation turned to plans for New Year’s Eve. Danny suggested that everyone return to the Ludwig Mansion to celebrate together, then head off to their own lives a few days later.

Jamison had no objections. He glanced at Ivy, who nodded her agreement.

After all, she’d spent the last three years in captivity, forced to celebrate the holidays away from home. She’d dreamed of a warm family reunion, but reality had been far from it.

Now, the old home that once shattered had somehow become whole again—a new sense of belonging had gently taken its place.

Late that night, as they drove home, Ivy was still mulling over dinner. “What do you think happened to your sister? How could she suddenly forget everything and be so nice to me… Do you think she’ll ever remember?”

Jamison shook his head, troubled. “I have no idea. I’ll ask a psychiatrist tomorrow and see if they can explain what’s going on with her—”

He didn’t get to finish. Suddenly, the roar of motorcycle engines shattered the quiet; the explosive noise was even more menacing in the dead of night.

Everyone in the car jumped at the sound and turned to look. Four or five motorcycles tore past, their riders whooping and hollering. One of them, grinning wildly, took a hand off the handlebars just long enough to flip them the finger as he sped by.

Ivy’s heart skipped a beat, a chill racing down her spine.

Seeing that defiant gesture, her first thought went to the man who’d sworn revenge for Emma. She glanced anxiously at Jamison. “What if that’s him? What if he’s found us?”

Jamison instinctively reached to shield her, his face hardening as he scanned the street. For safety, he ordered the bodyguard, “Pull over. Now.”

By the time the car rolled to a stop, the bikers had already vanished into the night.

Jamison was about to get out to investigate, but Ivy clung to his arm. “Don’t go out there. It could be dangerous…”

He hesitated, not wanting to worry her, then changed his mind. “Copy the dashcam footage. Find out who those bikers were, and have Boyd run their plates as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Dr. Ludwig.”

Once the bodyguards confirmed the area was clear, they pulled back onto the road.

But just two blocks later, as they waited at a red light, the same pack of bikers came roaring out of nowhere, engines screaming as they circled Jamison’s Mercedes.

The bodyguard in the passenger seat reacted instantly, flinging open the door to tackle the nearest biker. But the gang was faster; at the first sign of trouble, they slammed the throttle and shot through the red light, disappearing into the night.

Brazen didn’t even begin to cover it.

If Jamison and Ivy hadn’t been in the car, the bodyguards would have given chase without a second thought.

Once the light turned green, they continued home, finally arriving safely.

Still, Ivy couldn’t shake her nerves. Turning it over in her mind, she said, “If Hawley was among them, and he managed to track our car, that means he’s been following me for a while—probably since you picked me up from work.”

The realization that her enemy was hunting her, stalking her like prey, strangely brought her a sense of clarity. “Jamison, I have an idea. We can use this to draw him out…”