Chapter 221 Confinement

North drove Olive away in the Ferrari. Elvis watched the sports car disappear, acknowledging North's anger but expecting her reaction. He groaned in pain and closed his eyes.

Secretary Andrew rushed to his side. “CEO, let's return to the hospital. Your injury requires treatment. Your grandmother has hired a professional medical team.” Elvis's severe injuries greatly worried his grandmother, prompting her to hire the team; the doctors had forbidden him from going out today.

“Don’t tell Olive about my injury,” Elvis said, his deep eyes fixed on Andrew. “Don’t let anyone tell her. Do you understand?”

Andrew nodded quickly. “Yes, CEO. Let’s go.”

Elvis entered his luxury car. His phone rang—Pamela. He'd already fulfilled her third request. He swiftly rejected the call and blacklisted her number.

“CEO, should we have someone…dispose of Monica and Pamela?” Andrew asked quietly.

Elvis turned, gazing out the window.

The Hart Family

Pamela, unable to reach Elvis after he blocked her number, angrily threw her phone on the sofa. Monica approached, smiling excitedly. “Pamela, good news! I just learned Elvis and Olive went to the Civil Affairs Bureau for a divorce.”

Pamela leaped up, surprised. “Really? They divorced?”

Monica nodded. “It’s true. They have the certificate. Pamela, you gave Elvis your virginity; if you keep trying, you’ll definitely become his wife.”

Pamela felt a pang of unhappiness at Monica’s mention of Elvis’s virginity. He hadn't actually touched her. He'd pinned her to the bed, mistaking her for Olive, but had abruptly left for the bathroom. The powerful aphrodisiac incense she'd used had failed; Elvis's self-control was unbreakable. Her plan had completely failed, leaving self-harm as her only option. Yet, learning of the divorce, she felt her actions had been worthwhile. She convinced herself that persistent effort would make her Elvis's wife.

While mother and daughter celebrated, Patrick descended the stairs, preparing to leave.

“Dad, where are you going?” Pamela asked.

“I’m going to the hospital,” Patrick replied. “Olive called; my father’s awake.”

Pamela and Monica froze, exchanging questioning glances. They had poisoned the old man; he should be dead.

“Dad, really? Grandpa’s awake?” Pamela asked, frightened.

“Yes. I’m heading there now. Want to come? He’s at Blueberry Hospital,” Patrick offered.

Pamela quickly refused. “I can’t today. Dad, you go check on him. Mom’s still in confinement; I’ll stay with her.”

“Okay,” Patrick said, disappearing.

Immediately, Monica slumped onto the sofa, nervously looking at Pamela. “Pamela, what’s going on? How can the old man be awake? We pushed him down the stairs years ago, and poisoned him! How…?”

Pamela knew the extent of their evil deeds. With Elvis and Olive divorced, she was close to marrying Elvis; nothing could stand in her way.

“Mom, don’t panic. Something’s strange. I’ll secretly go to the hospital to confirm Dad’s news,” Pamela reassured calmly.

“Okay,” Monica replied, trusting Pamela’s judgment.

Pamela rushed to the hospital, disguised in a cap and sunglasses, fearing recognition by Olive or her father. A nurse directed her to Mr. Hart’s ward.

Peeking into the ward, she heard Olive and Patrick’s surprised voices. “Grandpa, you’re awake! We missed you so much,” Olive exclaimed happily. An old, gruff voice, Mr. Hart’s, responded, “Shh! It’s okay, don’t cry.”

Looking through the small window, Pamela saw the elderly man holding Olive and Patrick’s hands. Her heart sank; the old man was truly awake.

Patrick returned home and told Monica his discovery. Monica panicked. “Pamela, what do we do now? It’s over. We’ll be convicted of intentional homicide!”

Pamela’s face hardened. “Mom, why panic? We’ve already done it. We’ll do what we did before. Grandpa’s probably not fully conscious yet. We still have time. Tonight, you sneak into the ward and give him another dose of poison.”

Monica stared, shocked. “Pamela, you want me to go?!”

Pamela held Monica’s hand. “Mom, you can do this. Or, don’t you want to? If you go, Grandpa will be dead, and no one will know the truth about eleven years ago. Mom, when I become Mrs. Augustine, our lives will be wonderful.”

Monica hesitated, then ruthlessness filled her eyes. She nodded. “Okay, I’ll go. Hopefully, this will end all our troubles.”

Night fell, the hospital quietened, and Monica arrived, disguised as a nurse, wearing a mask. She pushed open the old man’s ward door and entered.