Chapter 339

Margaret’s usually immaculate hair was tangled, her eyes swollen from crying. The elegant, composed socialite Evelyn had always known was nowhere to be seen.

To Evelyn, Margaret had always been the picture of poise—graceful even when facing the humiliating truth of her husband’s affairs.

But today, the carefully constructed facade had shattered. The scandal, the public breakdown—it all stemmed from one devastating revelation: Evelyn Sinclair had secretly switched their children years ago.

The weight of that betrayal had crushed Margaret completely.

And perhaps, beneath the anger, there was something else—a quiet, gnawing guilt toward Evelyn herself.

Evelyn’s chest tightened. After a long silence, she finally spoke. "Get in. I’ll drive you."

The sun dipped low, casting long shadows across the secluded Hawthorne Estate. Finding a cab here would be nearly impossible.

Relief flickered across Margaret’s face. She hurriedly opened the back door and slipped inside, as if afraid Evelyn might change her mind.

Just as they settled, Richard stormed out of the villa.

At the sight of him, Margaret’s expression darkened. "Evelyn, please—I can’t face him right now. Let’s just go."

Neither of them had the energy to deal with Richard tonight.

Evelyn turned to Alexander, their eyes locking in silent understanding. Without a word, he started the engine and pulled away from the curb.

By the time Richard stormed out, the car was long gone, leaving nothing but dust in its wake.

When he arrived at Hawthorne Estate, the grand entrance stood barred against him.

He waited. One minute. Two. No footsteps approached.

Jaw clenched, he punched in the security code.

Error.

Again.

Error.

A third attempt.

Access denied.

The password had been changed.

Richard ripped at his tie, his knuckles turning white as he hammered on the oak door.

Silence.

Rage burned through him. The staff wouldn’t dare defy him—not unless Margaret had given the order.

"Margaret!" His voice cracked like a whip. "This is my house! You think you can lock me out after humiliating me today?"

The door swung open.

Richard stepped forward, expecting his wife’s contrite face.

Instead, a bucket of pig’s blood splashed across his designer suit.

The putrid stench assaulted Richard's senses like a physical blow, forcing bile to rise in his throat.

He staggered back, swiping at his face with disgust, only to see Oliver grinning at him, the empty metal bucket still in his hands.

Before Richard could react, Oliver slammed the bucket down over his head with a loud clang.

"Special delivery!" Oliver crowed, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "Consider it a spiritual cleanse for that rotten karma of yours!"

The metallic echo inside the bucket drowned out Richard's furious curses.

Oliver folded his arms, thoroughly pleased with himself. "You're welcome, by the way."

From beneath the bucket, Richard's muffled threats only made Oliver laugh harder.

"Maybe next time you'll think twice before showing your face around here," Oliver called over his shoulder as he walked away, leaving Richard trapped in his stinking humiliation.

The afternoon sun gleamed mockingly off the overturned bucket as Richard struggled to free himself, his dignity left in tatters on the pavement.