Filed to story: Returning to Her Not-So-Poor Family
That’s it?
Then Sean’s earlier freak-out was way over the top!
Seeing the tiny cut on Ophelia’s forehead, Sean still couldn’t shake his worry and decided to bring her back to Reflections Villa.”Yes, Ophelia’s resting at my place. She’ll be home tomorrow morning. Thank you. You should get some rest too, goodnight.” Mirabella hung up the phone after talking to Ophelia’s mother and turned to Sean, who was standing nearby.
On the phone, she hadn’t mentioned to the Almonds the danger Ophelia had faced. She simply said that the two hadn’t seen each other in ages and that she wanted to invite Ophelia to stay over at the Collins’ for the night. Ophelia’s mother had agreed, as warm and gracious as always.
Sean let out a sigh of relief, “Thanks, sis.”
He had brought Ophelia back for a few reasons:
First, he wasn’t sure if Ophelia had other injuries that needed Mirabella’s attention.
Second, he wasn’t well-acquainted with Ophelia, and he had no idea how to explain the cut on her forehead to the Almonds without causing them worry.
Third, he feared that there might be more mercenaries after Ophelia, so bringing her home was the safest option.
“You’re very considerate,” Mirabella saw through his excuses.
The Almonds knew about her re-connection with her birth family and hadn’t thought twice about Ophelia’s visit to the Collins’.
Mirabella’s gaze then fell on the figure on the couch, whispering, “Let’s get her to the guest room. I’ll find her some clean clothes, and we can check for other injuries, and treat the cut on her forehead.”
At least they were sure that the gas was just a regular sleep agent, which did no harm.
“I’ll do it,” said Sean, stepping forward to gently lift Ophelia up.Kenneth and Louisa exchanged knowing looks, and even the brothers couldn’t hide their meaningful grins.
Sean carried Ophelia into the guest room and gently laid her on the bed before turning to his sister, “Thanks for this.”
“She’s my friend; it’s no trouble,” Mirabella replied; catching the lingering concern in Sean’s eyes, she teased, “Something else on your mind, Sean?”
“Just wait here, I’ll grab the first-aid kit for you.”
“I have my own.”
“Then, should I fetch some hot water for you?”
“No need.”
“Alright, I’ll go tell the kitchen to whip up some late-night snacks, you must be exhausted too.” Sean glanced at Ophelia once more before adding his offer.
“Don’t worry, Sean. Once I’ve checked her out, I’ll let you know how she is. On top of that,” Mirabella assured him with a steady gaze and a gentle smile, “My touch is light; you can trust me.”
“I have no doubt about your skills, sis.” With that, Sean finally stepped out, closing the door behind him.
Sean recalled the moment when he had held Ophelia in his arms before getting into the car, she murmured in hazy sleep, “Flowers in the car.”
It was only later that he found two potted plants in her car.
In his urgent flurry to carry her inside earlier, he hadn’t managed to grab the potted plants. Now, as he brought them in, Sean was perplexed. Was his Ophelia a secret gardening enthusiast?
Even on the brink of exhaustion, she was thinking about the plants in the car?
What kind of plants were these, which possessed such allure that Ophelia remembered them in her last moments of consciousness?
They looked somewhat familiar.
The soil was half-spilled—could they die? How should he revive them?
Pondering this, Sean called upon the most experienced gardener in the household to see if the plants could be transferred to the garden or if they required special soil.
The gardener looked at the pots in his hands with a hint of surprise. “Aren’t those the plants that Miss Bella dug up from the garden for Miss Almond to take home? I clearly placed them in Miss Almond’s car. How did they end up with you? Did Miss Almond leave without them?”
“Our family’s plants??” Sean was taken aback.
“Yes, those are from our garden. Miss Bella herself asked me to fetch these pots. I watched her fill them with soil from the garden and transplant the plants.”It dawned on Sean that it wasn’t the plants that mattered to Ophelia, but the deep bond she shared with Bella.
“You may go now.”
“Yes, Sean,” said the gardener, confused by the inquiry.
Once alone, Sean went out to the garden, where he dug up some fresh soil and carefully repotted the bedraggled yet significant plants.
Meanwhile, Mirabella sent him a message, assuring him that Ophelia was fine apart from a minor cut on her forehead. Everything else was in good order.
Sean’s heart, which had been heavy with worry, finally settled. “I’ve had the kitchen prepare some late-
night snacks. Come down and eat something; you’ve had a long day too.”
“I still have things to attend to. You go ahead,” she replied.
Mirabella descended the stairs while messaging Sean, and joined Clark for a trip to the basement.
The dimly lit basement were filled with the stench of blood, with over a dozen battered assassins giving off an apocalyptic vibe.
Mirabella approached them with an icy voice, “Ready to talk now?”
“We’ve told you everything we know.” One assassin, barely clinging to life, weakly pleaded, “What else do you want us to say?”
“Where did the mysterious scent on your bodies come from?” Mirabella demanded coldly. “Erik doesn’t have the smarts to concoct something like that.”
Understanding pharmaceuticals was one thing, but creating a drug so potent was another.Another assassin confessed, “It’s one of our boss’s treasured secrets. We’ve only used it once before under special circumstances. We don’t know where it comes from.”
They only knew it was a prized possession of Erik’s, and was rare in quantity.
“Do you have an antidote?”
“Yes, but we used it all up tonight.”
“We were resolved to rescue our boss at all costs.”
“We just didn’t expect a total defeat.”
Mirabella was about to probe further when a weak and exhausted cough faintly broke the silence.
The assassins thought they had misheard.
Then the feeble and weary cough echoed again, and to their shock, they recognized it as their boss’s voice.
Their boss wasn’t dead?
He was still alive?!
At that moment, a bodyguard hurried over to Mirabella and whispered a few words in her ear.
A spark lit up in Mirabella’s eyes as she turned to Clark and said, “Clark, keep an eye on them; I’ll be right back.”
Clark nodded in understanding.
A dozen hitmen held their breath, secretly wondering if it was their boss who had come into consciousness, prompting Mirabella to check on him.
Word had it that Mirabella was one hell of a doc.
If their boss wasn’t dead, then there was hope for them yet.
As long as they could save their boss from the confinement, with his cunning and resourcefulness, he was sure to navigate them all out of this mess.
They had been in dire straits before. It was their boss who had carved a path to survival for them!
With that in mind, they exchanged knowing glances.
After a while, Mirabella returned.
Clark asked in a low voice, “How’s it looking?”
“He’s out again.”
The hitmen overheard and were certain it was their boss. Thank goodness he was unconscious.
Otherwise, with Mirabella using his life as leverage, the moment the boss spilled the beans about who was calling the shots, they’d all become expendable.”Why grill these guys when we can just wait for him to come to and ask him properly?” Though Clark’s voice was subdued, some of the hitmen overheard him.
“Just afraid he won’t talk,” Mirabella said, her eyes reflecting a mix of helplessness and gravity.
Clark’s gaze fell on the hitmen, “With so many lives at stake, he’ll talk.”
Hearing this, the hitmen realized that the strategy was to use their lives to coerce their boss into revealing the puppet master’s identity.
No, they couldn’t just sit around waiting to die.
They had to save their boss and get out!
Even if they couldn’t save him, they had to make a break for it first, and then figure out a way to call in reinforcements!
