Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption-Chapter 192: Do you love this family?

~Jessica’s Mansion~

Jessica was deep in concentration, her expression was serious, her brows slightly furrowed in thought as she carefully sketched out her latest designs in the quiet of her design room.

The pencil dancing across the paper of her sketchbook as she adjusted lines and shapes, refining every little and fine detail meticulously.

A soft knock broke the silence, as it echoed gently through the room. Jessica didn’t look up. She paused briefly but continued working, her voice calm but slightly impatient. "Yes? What’s the problem?"

She assumed it was one of the maids. Her guess was right. A gentle voice spoke from the other side of the door, "Ma’am, Mr. Damon is here to see you."

Jessica’s hand stilled. Her pencil hovered above the paper. Her brows knit together in confusion. "Damon? Where is he?" Her voice contemplative.

"Downstairs, ma’am," came the quiet reply.

Jessica blinked and looked toward the door, her mind racing. "Downstairs? Isn’t he supposed to be at the Allen house?" she muttered under her breath. "I will be there shortly." She said.

She sighed and leaned back in her chair, dropping the pencil on the table. Picking up her phone, she dialed Davis’s number. It rang a few times, and he answered. His sonorus voice filtering through the speaker "Missing me already." He smirked.

She quicky gave a shallow reason of calling before ending the call. She had only wanted to check in on him because of Damon’s presence.

She wanted to check if it had anything to with him but sensing he was in the mood for a joke and casual chat, she ended the call after a few words.

After ending the call she locked her phone, rose from her chair and made her way to the sitting room.

When she entered the living room, she found Damon sitting tensely on the couch, his back straight, his expression uneasy. The moment their eyes met, he gave a curt nod in greeting. Jessica returned the gesture as she moved closer and sat on the opposite couch.

"What’s going on? Why are you here?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Her heart pounded a little faster. Something wasn’t right. She always feared for the Old Man’s safety, especially leaving him alone with Alfred, even though the butler was trustworthy. But still, Desmond’s recent restlessness worried her.

A maid stepped in quietly and placed a tray with two glasses of freshly squeezed juice on the table between them, then silently retreated.

Damon took a deep breath and finally spoke. "The Old Man was in his study when Desmond came. They had a brief argument, and... he collapsed. He’s being rushed to the hospital now. Alfred went with him."

Jessica’s eyes widened. "They argued? About what?"

Damon shrugged slightly. "Not sure. You know Elder Allen doesn’t speak much. Whatever happened must have really upset him."

Jessica leaned forward, her voice quieter now, but firm. "And how has his health been lately?"

"Honestly, not great. He’s been weaker than usual," Damon admitted.

Jessica’s chest tightened. She had been purposely keeping her distance from Elder Allen to protect him. Her encrypted messages were her only way of staying in touch, of ensuring he was okay.

she had purposefully sent it as not to let him worry but it seems he still worried. It broke her heart that he was still worrying about her and Davis when her own family didn’t care if she was alive or dead but had only thought of ways to get some benefits from her presumed death.

She blinked away the burn behind her eyes. Bitterness welled up in her chest. How could someone who wasn’t even related to her by blood care so deeply, when her biological family was too busy chasing power and money to care?

"And your colleague?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"She’s still at the Allen house, watching Desmond. Even though the Old Man was taken to the hospital, Desmond stayed behind."

Jessica’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. "You mean to tell me that while Elder Allen is in critical condition, being rushed to the hospital, Desmond is just lounging at home?"

Damon nodded, his face tight with quiet rage. Jessica’s fingers clenched into fists. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. "What a heartless man," she whispered.

But then a fleeting though crossed her mind. "Desmond can’t stay at home without a purpose, what is he trying to achieve? What had they argued on?" She muttered as she tries to analyze the situation objectively.

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~Allen family house~

Desmond stood in the driveway, his expression blank as paramedics lifted the unconscious Elder Allen into the ambulance.

The old man’s face was pale, his breathing shallow and with a sense of urgency, an oxygen mask was attached to him immediately. The siren began to wail, growing louder as the vehicle pulled away, but Desmond didn’t flinch.

He simply watched with a cold, unreadable look. "Maybe letting him die will be better," he muttered to himself. "He keeps standing in my way."

He turned slowly and walked back into the mansion. He moved with no urgency, his steps light, almost careless. While several thoughts swirled through his mind.

He walked back to the Elder’s study. In the chaos, Alfred hadn’t closed the door. It was wide open. Desmond paused in front of it briefly, a strange mixture of emotion passing over his face as memories flooded him.

He remembered coming into this study as a boy. The study had changed a little over the years, but the layout and decorations remained largely the same. Elder Allen had always been sentimental. He had insisted the study stay true to its original design.

Desmond quietly stepped inside. Not actually sure what he wanted from there.

"Do you love this family?" a voice from the past echoed in his mind. A scene he remembered quiet well, he was just three years then. He had answered then without hesitation. "Yes. It is nice."

That memory stung now. He couldn’t help contemplating if he had answered correctly at that time.

His eyes flickered around the room, as another memory surfaced.

"Desmond, you did well signing that contract at such a young age. You’ll do great things one day," the Elder had said back then.

He had smiled proudly then, receiving a reward for his hard work—a small share in the Allen family.

But it hadn’t mattered. Because his brother had to be in charge, he had to take the lead while he assisted.

Years went by, and while he worked tirelessly, he was never given a major role. Then Davis arrived. Within a year, Davis was given eighty percent decision-making power. By the second year, full authority.

He couldn’t believe he had been left behind with no rights, no power. A mocking smile played on his lips.

Even when he was finally made Vice President, it was Davis who had appointed him. That fact had burned him deeply. He was Davis’s uncle, yet he had to accept a position under him. It had always felt wrong.

A bitter smile curved Desmond’s lips as he walked to the large desk. "I didn’t think that after all these years, I’d still be at the mercy of someone else. No one appreciates my sacrifices." freēnovelkiss.com

His voice was soft, but laced with venom.

He looked around the room again. "Aren’t we all the Allen family? Why must we be treated so differently? Why must he be the prince while I’m treated like the outsider?"

He slammed his hand down on the desk. "No. I won’t accept this fate. If I can’t rise in this family, then I’ll tear it all down."

His eyes scanned the study.

"I need to find the share transfer documents. I know he kept them here." He murmured

He began searching furiously—pulling open drawers, checking shelves, flipping through files. But there was nothing. He couldn’t help but wonder the possible cases. "Either the documents had been moved, or hidden too well." He thought as he continued to search.

Frustrated, he paused and looked around. He tried to remember any secret compartments or hidden drawers the Elder might have used. He tapped along the bookshelf, behind frames, under the table—but nothing. He paused to take a breathe and calm his anxious nerve.

Then, the silence was shattered. The shrill ring of a phone pierced the air.

Desmond’s breath caught. His eyes flicked to the phone, and his face drained of color when he saw the caller ID. He hesitated for a moment, then slowly answered.

A cold voice spoke from the other end. "Can we meet up?"

Desmond’s hand trembled slightly as he held the phone to his ear. He swallowed the lump in his throat and replied, "Where?"

There was a pause."I will text you the location and time. Don’t disappoint me." The voice smirked and the call ended.

Desmond took a deep breathe as the call ended. His cold gaze stared out the window, watching the clouds gather in the distance.

"No more waiting. I will take what should have been mine. Even if I have to destroy everything along the way." He muttered to himself.