Chapter 5

My phone lay on the ground, the screen lighting up again and again.

Joshua kept sending message after message: "Mr. Astor, where are you? Mr. Astor Sr. is barely hanging on."

I collapsed from exhaustion, staring helplessly at the screen.

Then Lauren finally emerged from the crowd.

Desperate, I reached out to her.

"Lauren, please! Take me home. Grandpa's dying. He wants to see me one last time!"

She kicked me away; her face was cold and disdainful.

"So, you're the lunatic who picked a fight with Ethan? You deserve everything that happened to you. And now you're cursing your own family to die?"

I wiped the blood from my face and stared at her in disbelief.

"Lauren, look at me! I'm Charles Astor!"

Her brow twitched at my desperate cries. But in the end, she still chose Ethan.

"Charles, we're just friends. I'm not responsible for your lies!"

Ethan pulled her into his arms with a smug smile.

"See? Even my wife admits it. You're nothing but her friend. You've been throwing yourself at her and trying to play the homewrecker!"

My phone buzzed again.

With what little strength I had left, I answered the video call.

Grandpa was lying in bed. The moment he saw me, he visibly relaxed.

My voice was hoarse, but I forced myself to sound calm. "Grand, wait for me. I'm coming home."

His breathing steadied for a moment.

Then Ethan snatched the phone from my hand with a grin and turned the camera toward himself.

"Well, well, old geezer. Is this idiot your grandson?

"I'll make sure you watch your worthless grandson get beaten senseless."

Lauren held the phone up while Ethan grabbed a baton and walked toward me.

The first blow struck my back. I crumpled instantly.

Ethan grinned at the camera.

"Well, old geezer? Does it hurt watching your grandson get beaten?"

He raised the baton again and had his fun.

"You homewrecker. You really thought you could get away with this?"

Before Ethan could land his third blow, Lauren caught his arm. She glanced my way, a hint of concern flashing across her face.

"Enough, Ethan. The old man couldn't take it. He just died."

Despite lying helplessly on the ground, I heard every word.

The monitor's shrill alarm tore through my ears.

At that moment, the pain in my chest was far worse than any physical pain I felt.

Tears streamed down my face.

I was devastated by the realization that the final image Grandpa had of me was of me being held down and beaten like an animal.

My eyes burned with fury as I stared them down.

"Lauren. Ethan. I'll make you pay for this."

Ethan only laughed, clearly not taking me seriously.

"Really? And how exactly are you going to make me pay for it? Talk me to death?"

He raised the baton again.

"You know what? One last hit. Maybe that'll finally shut you up."

But the blow never came.

A senior director of Nova Group, Henry Collins, suddenly strode over with his cane.

His voice thundered through the room. "Enough! Who gave you the right to lay a hand on him?"