CHAPTER 18: CHAPTER 18: IT WASN’T MADAM’S DOING...

"The old man from the Linton Family had a severe heart attack and was taken to the hospital, and she went with him," Ethan Carter said.

Upon hearing this, Old Mrs. Grant’s gaze slightly focused.

"The fact that you could marry her is all thanks to the old man’s illness."

"I know what to do."

Evan Grant turned and walked out of the study.

Old Mrs. Grant understood her grandson’s nature.

She closed her eyes, "Evan!"

Evan Grant stopped in his tracks and looked back at her, "Grandma, is there anything else?"

Mrs. Grant’s hand tightened around the edge of the table.

"I was the one who had the staff at the Aldoria villa dismissed, and I was the one who had Stella kicked out of the hospital."

Inside, Evan Grant felt a storm surge, unconsciously clenching his fingers,

Old Mrs. Grant continued, "Those mother and daughter are restless and don’t deserve the good food and drink of the Grant Family. If you wrong your wife for this woman again, don’t blame me for not tolerating her."

Evan Grant forcefully suppressed all the fluctuations, "I understand, Grandma."

Ethan Carter was also stunned.

All this wasn’t done by Mrs. Grant; they had all wronged her...

Downstairs in the living room, Stella was holding onto her mother’s hand, constantly looking upstairs.

Seeing Evan Grant coming downstairs, her expression was complex, as if awaiting a verdict on her fate.

"After paying respects to your father tomorrow, I’ll have someone send you back to Aldoria."

Evan Grant walked past her without stopping.

Stella felt disappointed inside but did not show it.

She called out to his back, "Thank you, brother, for getting the old lady’s approval so I could have the chance to spend time with mom."

Even though her last name had changed to Grant, the old lady did not acknowledge her as a granddaughter brought into the family, and Stella wasn’t qualified to call the old lady "Grandma."

Lily Windsor, upon hearing that her daughter was still going to be sent away, immediately began to cry.

At this moment, George Grant just happened to return from outside.

Seeing Evan Grant still at the old house, he was a bit surprised.

"You haven’t... I heard you were looking for me early on. I was at a friend’s house looking at antiques, and he insisted I stay for dinner before leaving."

Evan Grant knew he was making excuses to avoid him.

Approaching George Grant, he asked in a low voice, "Is Isaac Grant back?"

George Grant immediately denied it, "Your grandfather sent him to such a distant country before he passed away, even revoked his Harlan citizenship, and listed him as a persona non grata. How could he come back? Smuggle in? Impossible."

Seeing Evan Grant not speaking, he added, "Cortexa Group has expanded too quickly these years, affecting others. It’s normal for some to be dissatisfied and act out in revenge. Why must you suspect him?"

Evan Grant’s eyes were cold, "I hope you remember why he was sent abroad."

George Grant’s eyelid twitched.

Ethan Carter caught up with Evan Grant.

"The GL8 driving record shows Mrs. Grant was at that cake shop that exploded, then somehow her route became erratic. Everything in the GL8 was washed away by sea water. Although the left car door had traces of being hit, the monitors at the incident site strangely malfunctioned..."

"Do you believe what my father said?"

Ethan Carter certainly didn’t believe it.

"But Young Master Isaac is an adult now; whatever he does, Master George probably wouldn’t know either."

Evan Grant got into the car, his eyes misty, making it hard to discern his thoughts.

"Without any leads, just keep following our rhythm."

Ethan Carter started the car, "But if we do this, Mrs. Grant’s misunderstanding of you will only deepen."

Gazing out the window, Evan Grant suddenly felt the weight of the burden on his shoulders.

After a while, he murmured, "She’s my woman, she will understand me."

At the hospital.

Grandfather’s condition had temporarily stabilized and he was admitted to the intensive care unit.

The duty doctor pulled up his medical records, his expression not light-hearted at all.

"The patient’s heart failure is severe. If he doesn’t get a heart transplant, he won’t last a month. But considering his physical condition, there’s an 80% chance he won’t make it through surgery."

This was no different from a death sentence.

Juliana Jacobs felt her heart being twisted.

"The imported medication he’s currently taking isn’t effective anymore?"

The doctor nodded, "He’s developed resistance to it."

Juliana’s nose started to sting.

Rosalind Linton also became anxious.

"Please, doctor, find another way to save my dad. He’s never really enjoyed life, and it’s only been a few years of good days. Let us fulfill our filial duties a little longer."

The doctor tapped his mouse, thinking for a moment.

"There is a newly approved Heart Supplement Needle, which has shown good results in clinical trials. But it requires monthly injections to extend the patient’s life. Moreover, this medication is in high demand, with only one biological laboratory in the country able to produce it, so you must apply first. Once you get a spot, you must pay before production."

"How much is it per injection?" Rosalind Linton asked.

"1.2 million."

Rosalind nearly fainted.

She grasped Juliana’s hand.

"What do you want to do? If you divorce Evan Grant, who will sustain your grandfather’s life? Our family is definitely going to have to move—where do you plan for us to stay? Even the compensation for relocation is only five thousand, not enough to cover this hospitalization..."

Juliana, her body not yet recovered, was barely holding on, and reality dealt her another heavy blow.

In her marriage with Evan Grant, she was utterly powerless, either meekly obeying her husband like a docile cat or breaking herself into pieces when she resisted.

A flood of emotions surged into her heart, making it difficult for her to cope.

Before Rosalind could finish, with a "thump," Juliana collapsed to the ground...

As Juliana regained consciousness, she heard Dr. Caleb Shaw’s stern reprimand.

"I’ll tell you one last time: if you keep tormenting your wife’s body like this, even if you dig Walton out of his grave, he would only shake his head and bury himself again!"

She opened her eyes, meeting Caleb Shaw’s gaze.

Caleb, holding a drip rate controller, was stunned.

The sunlight from outside made the hospital room especially bright, so bright that some people’s secrets were nearly exposed.

Caleb snapped back to reality, avoiding meeting her eyes directly, taking two steps back, and speaking somewhat hesitantly.

"The patient... must also be careful, follow the doctor’s advice, to... make a quick recovery."

"Do doctors really tell patients everything that matters?"

Juliana sat up, her words laced with thorns.

Caleb was momentarily speechless, feeling as if she already knew everything.

About to probe further, Juliana spoke again, "Dr. Shaw, rest assured, no one understands the meaning of survival better than I do. I won’t die."

She had come to understand that avoiding problems was not a solution. If there were issues in her marriage with Evan Grant, she needed to resolve it before she could start a new life.

When it came to dying, it surely shouldn’t be her who dies!

Seeing Caleb at a loss for words, Evan Grant approached the bedside, saying, "Caleb, please step outside."

Upon hearing this, Juliana immediately frowned, watching him with vigilance.

She even subconsciously shifted to the other side of the bed when he sat down next to her.

Evan Grant’s gaze froze for a moment, dispelling any thought of having a heart-to-heart with her.

"You’ve just gotten over a fever and are drenched in sweat. Do you want to change clothes?" he asked.

Like hell I do.

Juliana hugged her knees, shaking her head.

Seeing her small and fearful demeanor, the tender words Evan had prepared for her stuck in his throat, unable to come out.

"Here is the Nine Boiling Soup you like, and it’s still warm. Do you want to drink some now?"

Can I pour it on your face?

Juliana closed her eyes and continued to shake her head.

Evan Grant couldn’t find any more topics to talk about.

The room grew so quiet that even the air seemed to stop.

"Juliana..."

Under her silent provocation, waves of regret washed over Evan Grant.

He pressed her shoulders with both hands, pleading in a low voice, "Let’s stop fighting, shall we?"