Chapter 3

Indeed, Alistair was dying. He had been diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer back in prison.

He had less than half a year left. The reason he had worked so hard to get proof that he was gainfully employed wasn't really to get Corey out of the orphanage—it was so he could just see Corey one last time.

Also, he wanted to earn as much money as possible for Corey before he died.

When Alistair returned to the club, he accepted every filthy, exhausting job the manager tossed his way. He took it all without complaint.

It was as if he didn't know what it meant to be tired. When it was time to eat, he never fought over food. When the pain in his stomach became unbearable, he just swallowed a cheap painkiller. When people made things difficult for him, he only lowered his head and silently endured their complaints.

Even the manager started feeling guilty about piling it on him.

So, when Alistair once again asked the manager to issue him a letter proving that he was a proper employee, the manager, feeling sorry for him, said, "Alistair, stop thinking about your brother. Without the boss' green light, I wouldn't dare sign anything for you."

Hearing that, Alistair didn't argue. He simply turned around and walked away, his shoulders slumping with disappointment.

He wanted to go to the stairwell and be alone for a while. But as soon as he pushed open the emergency door, he was caught off guard by the sight of Jonah half-naked, wrapped around Geri. She was petite and clung to him like a vine.

Jonah's movements were unbelievably gentle, his long fingers roaming all over her body in an eager caress. He said, "Geri, I want that new Ferrari, the one that was just released. But they only have it in Merania."

"It'll be parked in front of you tomorrow," Geri said.

Jonah shuddered all over with pleasure. "Do you think anyone will catch us here?"

Geri's gaze slid down the stairs and landed on Alistair, making a chill run down his spine. "If anyone sees us, I'll gouge their eyes out."

Alistair felt stabbed by her gaze. He flinched and spun around in a panic, but then he heard Geri's voice behind him. "Stop right there."

He froze, his heart leaping into his throat. He was terrified that she'd thought up some new way to torment him.

She said icily, "Go buy two boxes of condoms and bring them to the Celestial Room."

Alistair heaved a breath of relief.

When he delivered the condoms, Geri and Jonah still hadn't changed locations. He set the items down and left as fast as he could.

He had no idea how much time had passed before the manager came to him. "Go to the Celestial Room and clean it up. Make sure it's spotless."

Alistair put down the half-eaten slice of bread in his hand.

Inside the private room, the aftermath of the earlier chaos was impossible to miss. Lingerie, toys, and other suggestive items lay scattered everywhere, making his face burn and his heart pound.

In the few years he and Geri had dated, the most intimate thing they'd ever done was kiss. So the traces scattered around the room left him both embarrassed and miserable. He shook it off and started cleaning.

There weren't only toys and lingerie in the room. Jonah's expensive watch was also there. Alistair carefully gathered up the watch. Just then, Geri spoke out of nowhere. "Do you regret it?"

"Huh?" Alistair jumped, almost slipping. As he stumbled, she caught his arm.

He immediately jerked away from her touch and hastily pushed his hair out of his face. "W-What?"

"Do you regret it? All of this was supposed to be yours." Geri took in every inch of his disheveled state.

Alistair kept his head down, staring at his toes. Regret… what? Did he regret going to the hospital to see her that day? Did he regret talking with Margaret on the stairwell?

Geri's voice was cool and detached as she said, "If you hadn't done what you did back then, our kid would probably be walking by now."

Back in the day, Geri's father, Stuart Winslow, had agreed to let them date, but Margaret had never approved of Alistair. Everyone claimed that Alistair had gone after Margaret on purpose to get revenge, that he had taken advantage of being under the age of criminal responsibility to hurt Margaret in cold blood.

"You're the one who ruined me, Alistair. You ruined us," Geri hissed.

Alistair said nothing. He just squatted down and continued cleaning.

Geri didn't get angry when he didn't respond. She just sat on the couch, lit a slim cigarette, and watched him cough from the smoke, completely unfazed. "You know, you don't have to work this hard. You just want a letter to prove that you're employed, right? I'll sign it for you if you beg me."

Alistair's thoughts drifted. The smell of smoke stirred the pain in his stomach and dragged up memories too heavy to bear.

It wasn't like he'd never begged.

Back when George had been thrown into prison on false charges, Alistair had knelt outside the Winslow family's gates for three days and three nights. He'd humbly admitted to a crime he never committed, prostrated himself, and lowered himself into the dirt.

But none of it earned him even the slightest hint of mercy from Geri. George, a man who had saved countless lives, had still gotten his reputation destroyed before dying in prison.

Seeing how Alistair was struggling to breathe, Geri finally stubbed out the cigarette.

She assumed he wouldn't get down on his knees. It didn't matter, anyway. She had only wanted to get on his nerves. But just as she stood up to leave, she suddenly felt a tug on her pants.

She looked down in surprise and saw that at some point, Alistair had dropped to his knees at her feet. His tall frame was hunched over, his posture humble to the point of humiliation.

He said, "Ms. Winslow, I'm begging you. Please let me see Corey, even if it's just once."

His stomach hurt so much. He was dying. He really couldn't hold on any longer.