Chapter 5

As Cameron spoke, he erupted into a fit of violent coughing.

Lexie stepped out of the examination room right as the scene unfolded.

She rushed over in an instant, shielding Cameron behind her while snapping viciously at Hendrick, "What did you do to Cameron? He's sick! Why are you picking on him?"

Watching her react with such an intense surge of emotion, Hendrick let out a self-deprecating laugh.

So it turned out even the most rational person could lose control in a heartbeat.

All because of a few coughs from Cameron.

She hadn't even bothered to ask what actually happened before instinctively branding him as the perpetrator.

This was his wife, the woman he used to cherish with every fiber of his being.

A suffocating pain gripped his heart, making it hard to breathe.

Cameron was still coughing weakly. "Don't be mad, Lexie. Hendrick didn't do anything. He just made a few comments after noticing the ring on my finger. Please don't blame him over this."

Lexie's face darkened even further. "The surgery date is already set. None of your petty little schemes behind my back will work. I won't let anything jeopardize Cameron's operation."

She assumed Hendrick was trying to back out of the heart donation and was deliberately worsening Cameron's condition out of spite.

Yet Hendrick didn't bother to offer a single word of explanation.

There was no point anyway. Lexie would never listen to a single word he said.

He simply turned around in silence, walked back to his room, and shut the door.

The only companion he had left was his sketchbook.

He loved drawing and fashion design. For years, his absolute biggest dream had been to see his own creations walk down a fashion week runway.

Fortunately, he had received an invitation for next year's showcase. Unfortunately, he probably wouldn't survive long enough to see next year.

So he wanted to finish the designs before his surgery, treating it as one final wish checked off his list.

As he drafted and refined the lines, the medication began to kick in, leaving him feeling drowsy.

Hendrick placed the sketchbook on the nightstand beside his bed and drifted into a heavy sleep.

When he woke up, he heard a faint rustling sound near his ear. Opening his eyes, he saw a young boy scribbling all over his design sketches with a pencil.

The finalized drafts had been utterly ruined.

Hendrick bolted upright, grabbed the boy's wrist, and barked, "What do you think you're doing?"

Startled, the boy snapped his head up.

His face shared a striking resemblance to Cameron. It was Cameron's son, Blake.

"You're a bad guy! You made my dad feel sick, so I'm punishing you for him! Bad guy!" Blake burst into a loud, piercing scream that sounded like fingernails dragging across glass.

Seeing all his hard work destroyed, Hendrick saw red. He couldn't care less that he was dealing with a child. "Who gave you permission to touch my sketchbook? Didn't your parents ever teach you not to touch things that don't belong to you?"

Blake burst into even louder tears, screaming, "Help! The bad guy is trying to beat me up! Help! Aunt Lexie, help! Grandpa, help!"

Within moments, Adrian and Lexie burst into the room together and shoved Hendrick back violently.

They used so much force that Hendrick slammed heavily against the wooden headboard. A sharp, piercing pain throbbed in his scalp as his vision briefly went black.

Seeing Blake covered in tears with a red mark on his wrist, Nina rushed over and threw two hard punches into Hendrick's ribs. "Useless Dad! Why did you hurt Blake?"

Blake sobbed uncontrollably, sniffling with an aggrieved look on his face. "I just saw Uncle Hendrick sleeping and wanted to put a blanket over him. I don't know what I did wrong, but he tried to hit me. I was so scared. I almost got beaten to death."

Adrian flew into a towering rage at those words. "Hendrick, have you lost your mind completely? How dare you lay a hand on a child!"

Hendrick remained silent.

He lowered his head and touched his hairline, feeling a sticky, wet smear of blood.

Adrian didn't notice a thing. He continued his furious tirade, "Is this the manners I taught you? Why would you lay a hand on a child?"

Hendrick's face turned deathly pale. He tilted his head up. "If I told you I didn't touch him, would you believe me? Would any of you?"