Shattered Illusions: Love, Lies, and Redemption

Hans's face twisted with terror as his gaze darted frantically toward the hospital room door.

"Help... somebody, help..."

He screamed for help, but his voice was so faint it was almost inaudible.

That fear of death, the helplessness, the absolute despair-it was probably the same feeling Lizetta had when she begged him for mercy last night.

Remington's icy stare fixed on him, his hand gripping Hans's nape before landing a muffled punch on Hans's abdomen.

Hans's liver was severely damaged, and he had just undergone surgery. Now, the incision was bleeding profusely.

He winced in agony, his face contorting, eyes bloodshot, his expression filled with fear and begging.

"Are you going to talk or not?"

Remington didn't let go. Instead, his fingers tightened around the wound, rubbing and grinding, as blood trickled down his fingers.

As Hans's life ebbed away, his face was streaked with tears and snot.

Even in death, no one wants to die in such torment.NôvelDrama.Org © content.

His lips moved weakly, "I... I don't know who he is... I swear I don't, please..."

He was begging for a quick end.

He looked weakly towards the door. This was a hospital, after all; the police were just outside.

Even as a criminal, he shouldn't be treated this way.

But outside, it was eerily silent, with no one coming in.

Thinking of the pain Lizetta had suffered, the image of their child curled up in bruises and stiff from the cold, Remington only wished Hans's death could be slower. "Was it the West family?"

He punched Hans's wound again with force.

When Remington left the room, his demeanor was calm and collected.

He held a disinfectant wipe between his fingers, meticulously cleaning the blood off his hands with a cold command.

"Get in there and save him."

The plainclothes team leader peeked inside.

Hans lay on the floor, his hospital gown soaked red with blood, barely breathing.

He hurriedly ordered the doctors to rush in, hoist Hans onto the bed, and start the emergency procedures.

The defibrillator was used repeatedly, Hans coughing up blood, the monitor emitting a continuous beep.

Once the procedures were done, the doctor came out, declaring the patient was beyond saving.

Yet, Remington signaled Ray to escort the involved medical staff into another room to keep them under surveillance.

The plainclothes leader approached,

"Mr. Dashiell, rest assured, r

I here today. Our guve

a tight lid on it."

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But Remington merely looked at him. and said, "Of course, nothing happened. And make sure you keep a close watch on the suspect. We'll need more people on this, hemust not be allowed to die."

The team leader was stunned. Hans was already dead, what was there to watch?

But he quickly understood-Remington was creating the illusion that Hans was still alive to lure out whoever was behind this.

If they couldn't keep their cool, they'd surely come to finish the job.

"Understood," the plainclothes officer nodded.

Only then did Remington head towards the elevator, not back to Lizetta's room but up to the top floor.

Martin's room was there. His wife, Luna, had spent the last six months of her fight with cancer in this hospital.

After Luna passed and the funeral was over, Martin, unwell himself, was admitted to Luna's old room.

As Remington approached the room, the door swung open.

Stella, in a white dress, was coming out with a bouquet in her hands.

Seeing Remington, her heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively tightened her grip on the flowers, saying,

"Remington... what brings you here?

My nephew was transferred here

from a local clinic due to inadequate careol just heard about Liz's

incident; I was on my way to see

her."

Stella's voice tightened as she spoke, especially as Remington remained silent, his imposing figure casting a chilling gaze.

Feeling her heart pounding, her complexion pale, Stella believed her reaction was justified.

She bit her lip, stepping forward, "Remington, are you alright?"

The next moment, the flowers fell from her hands as Remington suddenly moved, his hand shooting out to grasp her delicate throat.