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Chapter_204
Yvette’s expression darkened as she answered the call. Bonnie’s voice was instantly familiar.
“Yve, it’s Bonnie. Mr. Chambers is in trouble—he’s in the ICU at Seacrity Hospital.”
Yvette’s face hardened, her eyes narrowing with cold fury. Bruce and Sienna, sitting in the car, couldn’t help but feel the shift in the atmosphere. Yvette’s calm was chilling, and it sent a shiver down their spines.
“Got it.” Yvette’s voice was quiet, but it carried an undeniable weight.
Without saying another word, Yvette ended the call, gripping her phone tightly. She lifted her head, her gaze turning sharp, her eyes glinting with a storm brewing beneath the surface.
“Stop the car,” she instructed Bruce, her voice devoid of emotion.
Bruce reacted instantly, slamming on the brakes and pulling the car over to the side of the road. Sienna, her face pale with concern, unbuckled her seatbelt.
“What’s wrong, Yve?” Sienna asked, her voice tense.
Yvette’s response was quick and decisive. She opened the driver’s side door and stepped out, her movements swift and deliberate.
“We’re heading back. You two get out. I’m going to the airport.”
Sienna’s eyes widened in alarm, sensing the seriousness of the situation. Without hesitation, she hurried to exit the car, knowing that whatever was happening, it was bigger than just a simple hospital visit.
Bruce, still processing what had just happened, looked over at Yvette. She was eerily calm, her expression impassive as she prepared to leave.
“Yve, Mr. Chavez has a private jet at Mysonna Airport. Let me accompany you, and we’ll fly back immediately,” Bruce suggested, his voice steady but laced with urgency.
Yvette nodded in acknowledgment. “Okay.”
Without wasting another moment, Yvette slid into the driver’s seat, her hands steady on the wheel. She gave Bruce a brief look before speaking.
“Sit tight.”
Bruce did as he was told, fastening his seatbelt with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. He wondered just how fast Yvette could drive, but he didn’t dare question her.
As if to prove his point, Yvette shifted gears, and the car shot forward with the force of a speeding bullet. The road seemed to blur as they tore down the streets, the engine roaring with power and precision.
In just under thirty minutes, they reached the airport. Yvette was the first to step out, her long legs taking purposeful strides. Her face remained stoic, her eyes scanning the surroundings. Bruce, shaky from the ride, followed close behind, his legs almost unsteady from the sheer intensity of the drive.
Yvette had chosen the most dangerous route possible, and Bruce had gripped the safety handle the entire way. He could hardly believe that someone could navigate such treacherous roads with such casual ease. But Yvette was no ordinary driver. She was something beyond remarkable.
Bruce handled the airport formalities quickly, ensuring there were no delays. He watched as Yvette boarded the private jet, her expression still unreadable. The plane’s engines roared to life, and it soared into the sky, leaving Bruce on the tarmac with lingering questions. He had to know more.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Jeremiah’s number. The call connected almost instantly.
“Mr. Chavez,” Bruce began respectfully, “right after taking a call, Yvette decided to head back. She’s already on your private jet and has just taken off. Something big is happening.”
Jeremiah, standing on the platform of the training grounds, surveyed the soldiers below with a cold, calculating gaze. His voice was sharp as he answered. “I understand.”
Bruce continued, his voice cautious. “Mr. Chavez, it seems like Yvette knows someone from the Goodman family. Should we involve the intel team?”
Jeremiah’s eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a firm line. “No need,” he replied. His trust in Yvette was unwavering, and he didn’t need any extra information.
Bruce paused, processing the situation. “Got it,” he said before ending the call.
Meanwhile, Andrew, now working as a librarian in Seacrity, had been adjusting to his new life. He had settled into a routine, but the phone call he received today was anything but ordinary. When he saw Jeremiah’s name on the screen, he was stunned. It was the first time the man had reached out to him.
“Wrong number?” Andrew wondered, a bitter edge creeping into his thoughts. After all, Jeremiah had distanced himself ever since Yvette left.
He answered the phone, trying to mask his surprise. “Hello, Mr. Chavez. Did you dial the wrong number? This is Andrew, not Yvette.”
Jeremiah’s voice was calm but purposeful. “No mistake. I was looking for you.”
Andrew’s heart raced. The excitement was palpable, but he also felt a pang of resentment. He had fallen from a position of some importance, and now it seemed like Mr. Chavez was only reaching out because of Yvette.
“Oh my! Has Mr. Chavez finally rediscovered his humanity?” Andrew thought to himself. He quickly pushed his feelings aside.
“Mr. Chavez, you finally remembered me,” he said, trying to mask the bitterness. “I’ve been stuck in Seacrity for so long. I’m growing moss here.”
Jeremiah’s response was quick and direct. “Did something happen to the Chambers family?”
Andrew froze. He had been out of the loop recently. Bonnie had midterms, and he hadn’t been keeping up with family affairs. But the urgency in Jeremiah’s voice made it clear something serious was happening.
“I’m not sure, Mr. Chavez,” Andrew admitted, “but give me a moment. I’ll check it out.”
Andrew hung up and immediately contacted someone he knew in Seacrity. Within minutes, the shocking news came through: Zachary had been in a car accident. He was in the ICU, and his injuries were severe. Worse, there were signs of sabotage—someone had deliberately tampered with the car’s brakes. Had the driver not acted swiftly, Zachary might not have made it to the hospital.
Andrew was stunned by the revelation. He called Jeremiah back without hesitation, his voice grim.
“Mr. Chavez, there’s trouble with the Chambers family,” Andrew said. “Yve’s dad was in a car accident this morning and is now in Seacrity Hospital. His injuries are serious. The hospital could only stabilize him briefly. They can’t perform the surgery he needs. The situation looks bad. There are signs of sabotage—the brakes were tampered with. If the driver hadn’t reacted quickly, Zachary might not have survived.”
Jeremiah’s grip on the phone tightened. His cold eyes burned with fury as he spoke.
“Where is the driver of the truck?” he demanded.
Andrew replied, his voice measured. “He’s been detained at the police station. They’re keeping him there for questioning, but with Zachary’s life still hanging in the balance, they haven’t allowed anyone near him.”
Jeremiah’s next words were delivered in a chilling tone. “Go to the police station. Don’t let anyone get near him.”
As the line went dead, Jeremiah’s mind raced. Who would dare make a move against Zachary? The storm inside him grew as he realized that whoever was behind this had just made a dangerous enemy.
At Seacrity Hospital, Lucas paced back and forth, anxiety written all over his face. He had narrowly missed being with Zachary when the accident occurred, and the guilt gnawed at him. If only he had been there.
The operating room light finally flickered off. Lucas rushed forward, barely able to keep his voice steady as he approached Dr. Anderson.
“Dr. Anderson, how is Mr. Chambers?” he asked urgently.
Dr. Anderson, the lead surgeon, removed his mask, his expression weary. He had just completed a grueling five-hour operation to stabilize Zachary.
“He’s stable… for now,” Harold said, his voice drained. “But he’s not out of danger yet. His vital signs are hanging on by a thread. This was the limit of what I could do. The next 24 hours will tell us everything.”
Lucas’s heart sank. The fight for Zachary’s life had only just begun.
