The Ex-Wife's Redemption: A Love Reborn Chapter 127

I stared at the hospital security footage, my heart racing. The mysterious figure had slipped something into Mrs. Davis's water cup.

Later that night, the elderly woman had woken up thirsty and drained the entire contaminated cup. No wonder we couldn't find anything unusual in her system—the evidence was long gone!

After downloading a copy of the video, I headed to the billing department and paid off Mrs. Davis's remaining hospital fees.

Then I returned to her room, determined not to leave her side again. I planned to wait until morning and send the footage to Betty, hoping she could help identify the person in the recording.

I settled into the chair beside Mrs. Davis's bed, my body heavy with exhaustion. Despite my best efforts to stay awake, sleep overtook me within minutes.

In my dreams, I returned to that small county town from years ago.

On that hillside covered with wildflowers, Sam held my hand as we walked in the sunshine. His extraordinarily handsome face was filled with smiles, his eyes looking at me with nothing but love.

"Sophia," he said, his voice as warm as the sun on my skin, "once you graduate, let's get married."

His words flowed like a gentle stream of memories.

"The only reason I joined the military was to make something of myself, to make you proud."

His expression grew more serious, eyes intense with emotion.

"If someday I'm no longer in this world, promise you'll live well and take care of my grandmother for me, okay?"

His smile returned, bright and reassuring.

"You're the kindest, most beautiful girl in the world. You deserve happiness."

Gradually, Sam's face began to merge with Henry's.

Their nearly identical features overlapped until I couldn't tell them apart. But the smile disappeared, replaced by a cold, hostile glare.

"Sophia!" the merged face snarled, teeth clenched in rage. "Is this your lover? I'll kill you!"

Those beautiful hands that had once held mine with such tenderness now reached for my slender neck.

I jolted awake with a gasp, clutching my throat, my chest heaving as I struggled to catch my breath.

The nightmare felt so real I could still feel the phantom pressure around my neck.

By morning, Richard had kept a vigil at his father's bedside all night. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his face sagged with fatigue. To his immense relief, William had finally regained consciousness.

William struggled to sit up, taking in his son's haggard appearance with a mixture of concern and irritation.

"Enough of this," he said, his voice weak but commanding. "You're not a young man anymore. What are you doing staying up all night? Go home and rest!"

Despite his father's orders, Richard remained steadfast, too worried about William's condition to leave.

"Dad, I can't possibly leave you like this," he insisted. "I need to keep an eye on you."

William's face hardened with determination. "Listen to me. Go home and get some proper sleep. Then head to the office and carefully examine the company shares. Find out exactly how many are in that ungrateful son's hands, and figure out how to get them back. Everything should go to Sophia."

The memory of the previous night's disaster reignited William's anger.

A birthday celebration ruined because his grandson had the audacity to bring his mistress to a family gathering! The Harding name had been thoroughly disgraced.

Richard seemed to grasp his father's intentions. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded. "Alright, I'll go home first. Should I take Billy with me?"

"No," William replied firmly. "After all the chaos last night, Sophia must be exhausted. I'll take care of the child myself." His eyes sparkled with affection at the mention of his great-grandson—the child he treasured above all else.

"Besides," he added with a vengeful gleam, "I'm waiting to see that little bastard get what's coming to him!"

After leaving the hospital, Richard didn't head home to rest as his father had instructed.

Instead, he went straight to Grace's residence at the Harding estate. He learned from the servants that Grace had been confined to the reflection room on Henry's orders, while Catherine had gone out and hadn't returned all night.

The gray-haired Richard frowned, changing his plans. He headed toward Maple Grove instead. As he entered the main building, he noticed the servants whispering among themselves, their faces anxious and troubled.

Richard walked somewhat slowly, his breathing slightly labored from fatigue.

He had no idea what had transpired between Sophia and Henry, only assuming they'd both be in the second-floor bedroom.

Married couples always fought; making up afterward was normal. Since Sophia hadn't returned to the hospital or called either him or William last night, he presumed things had been resolved.

The moment Richard stepped through the main entrance, the servants fell silent, ducking their heads as if afraid to meet his gaze. After a brief whispered exchange, they all seemed to shrink into themselves, not daring to speak.

Richard sensed something was wrong. He stopped and stood before one of the servants, looking down at her with authoritative eyes. "What are you all talking about?"

One of the more timid servants approached, pointing toward the second floor. "Sir," she hesitated, "there are some things we simply cannot say aloud. Perhaps you should go upstairs and see for yourself."

Richard climbed to the second floor, his mind racing with possibilities. Had Sophia and Henry gotten into another argument? He pushed open the bedroom door and froze at the threshold.

Bed on the bed lay two figures. A slender, pale arm curved around Henry's neck. The arm was delicate, smooth as jade, and belonged to the last person Richard wanted to see.

He stood paralyzed by the sight, unable to believe his eyes.

Henry and Isabella were sleeping together in the bed!

Richard remained silent for a moment, making sure he wasn't mistaken. He bellowed, "Henry! You worthless dog!" His face contorted with rage. "I'll cut you to pieces for this!"

He grabbed a pillow from the nearby sofa and charged toward his still-sleeping son. "You little shit! Are you deliberately trying to provoke me?" he shouted. "Pulling a stunt like this in our home—are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

Isabella woke first, startled by the commotion. When she saw Richard standing beside the bed, looking murderous, she quickly pulled the covers tightly around herself, shrinking into the corner of the bed and beginning to whimper softly.

She wiped away tears that weren't really there, secretly delighted. Now the entire Harding family would know she'd been "in bed" with Henry. Would Sophia still want him after this?

Henry awoke groggily, disoriented by his father's shouting. "Dad," he mumbled, "what's got you so worked up? What did I do?"

After lying down last night, he'd experienced a sharp pain in his chest and then lost consciousness.

"Would I be hitting you if you were sleeping alone in your bed?" Richard snapped.

Only then did Henry notice the figure huddled in the corner of the bed, softly crying. At first, he assumed it was Sophia. "I'm sleeping with my own wife," he protested defensively. "Holding my own wife while I sleep—what law does that break?"

Richard's brow furrowed deeply with fury. "Open your damn eyes and look properly! Is that your wife?"

Henry followed his father's pointing finger and realized with a shock that the person wrapped in the bedsheets wasn't Sophia at all! Afraid he might be mistaken, he circled the bed, stopping in front of Isabella. His intense gaze fixed on her face.

"Isabella? How is it you?"