Cyril, who had just been completely composed, suddenly became tense and excited. He grabbed his assistant’s arm and peppered him with questions. “Where is she? Where’s Freda? Tell me right now!”
“A mountain village in the Southwest.” The assistant felt like throwing up from being shaken so violently.
Cyril’s face lit up with joy as he headed for the exit. Several shareholders tried to block his way.
Cyril actually threw a punch, knocking down the closest person. Only Freda mattered to him now–everything else was irrelevant.
Cyril pushed through the Prescott Corporation building and frantically drove toward the airport.
He sped the entire way, and while running a yellow light at an intersection, he was hit by a truck that was also trying to beat the light. His Maybach was crushed and deformed, with the seat trapping his leg.
He desperately tried to unbuckle his seatbelt and pull his leg free, but the harder he struggled, the more stuck he became.
Within minutes, his leg had swollen up, blood soaking through his pants.
Fortunately, rescue workers arrived quickly and pulled him from the wreckage.
Before they could get him onto the stretcher, he was already struggling to get down and limping forward.
“Get the hell away from me! I gotta find my wife!” Cyril glared at the paramedics chasing after him.
“Sir, your leg needs immediate treatment, or you risk amputation.” The paramedics tried to reason with him.
Cyril ignored them and kept walking forward. His only thought was getting to Freda.
This past year and a half without Freda had been pure hell–he’d barely eaten, barely slept, barely functioned like a human being.
“Baby, I’m coming for you,” Cyril whispered.
The next second, he collapsed.
He tried several times to get back up but couldn’t find the strength, finally allowing himself to be taken to the hospital.
Cyril refused to cooperate with treatment. He just wanted to get discharged and go find Freda.
“Let me out! I need to find my wife!”
“Get away from me!”
“Don’t touch me!”
Chapter 18
Cyril kept trying to get out of bed, falling each time, only to be lifted back onto the bed again.
When his mother arrived, she found Cyril acting completely unhinged. Her face was grim as she demanded that the doctors sedate him and force treatment.
Cyril was strapped to the bed, glaring viciously at his mother, all traces of his former composure gone.
“Let me go find Freda! What gives you the right to have them tie me down?”
“Mom, you couldn’t even keep Dad around–are you trying to make Freda lose me too?”
Cyril had lost all reason, speaking without thinking, hitting his mother’s most painful spot. “Let me go find Freda!”
Slap!
His mother struck him hard across the face, her eyes red as she looked at him. “Cyril, I am so ashamed of you right now. Nobody’s stopping you from going after Freda–you’re doing this to yourself.”
“You caused all of this mess. If you could’ve just kept your head on straight and not crashed your car, you wouldn’t be stuck in this hospital. Your legs are fucked up right now–are you planning to crawl to her?”
His mother was shaking with rage and couldn’t help but slap him again. “If I’d known you’d turn out like this, I would’ve stopped Freda from marrying you in the first place! Think about what you’ve done–I’m washing my hands of you!”
She turned and left, slamming the hospital room door behind her.
Cyril sat there stunned, only now realizing he’d hurt his mother too.
From that day on, Cyril cooperated fully with his treatment. His legs healed better than expected.
Soon he was able to walk around.
The moment he was discharged, he set out to find Freda,
汽
