Madly Yours (Nora Reed) novel Chapter 409

Meanwhile, Silas stood completely alone outside the operating room, his face contorting into an unrecognizable mask of rage.

His fists were clenched so tightly his nails dug painfully into his palms.

His child was dead.

He was permanently robbed of his lineage.

And the architect behind his utter ruin was none other than his beloved younger brother!

Taking a ragged breath, Silas pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolled to a hidden contact, and pressed call.

"Hello, Uncle Lawrence..."

Lawrence's smooth, slightly raspy voice echoed through the receiver. "Silas, what is it? What can I do for you?"

Silas forced the words through gritted teeth. "Uncle, Ginger lost the baby."

There was a beat of dead silence on the line.

"What happened?"

"It happened right outside Cloudwater Estate. Hudson's people must have done something to her." Silas kept his voice low, but the seething hatred was unmistakable.

Lawrence sighed softly, breaking into a minor coughing fit. "Hudson really is determined to slaughter everyone in his path..."

"Uncle, I am begging for your help." Pure, unadulterated vengeance boiled in Silas's eyes. "As long as you help me destroy him, I will do absolutely anything you ask."

"So, you've finally come around?"

"I have."

"Good." Lawrence's tone remained perfectly even. After another brief coughing spell, he spoke slowly. "Then I'll help you, just this once."

...

Holland. Inside a private hospital.

Standing before the floor-to-ceiling windows of his VIP suite, Lawrence stared blankly out at the foreign city streets, coughing violently for several minutes before finally catching his breath.

His sickly, pale reflection stared back at him in the glass.

During the assassination attempt just a few days ago, a blade had punctured his lung. It had nearly cost him his life.

Several days had passed, and Hugo had mostly recovered from his wounds, though a few stubborn bruises remained on his face.

He and Harvey had returned the day Lawrence was attacked. Both men had been brutally injured but had still fought like demons to drag Lawrence away from the assassins' blades.

Lawrence smirked faintly. He picked up his cup, taking a slow sip of herbal tea to soothe his burning lungs, before glancing up. "Help him? Of course I'll help him. It's not often Silas begs for my assistance. As his uncle, I have to show my support."

Hugo frowned heavily. "But given our current position..."

He trailed off, not daring to finish the thought.

But Lawrence knew exactly what he meant.

His carefully cultivated network in San Francisco had been completely decimated by Hudson. Even his core business projects had been seized.

And that wasn't all. Even his privately funded mercenaries in Holland had scattered to the winds. Barely a handful of loyal men remained.

Calling him a fallen king would be an understatement.

"What's the rush?"

Lawrence coughed lightly, lifting his teacup for another slow, unbothered sip. "Silas hates Hudson enough to chew his own arm off right now. That makes him the perfect weapon."