Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son - Chapter 95: Chapter 95
You are reading Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son, Chapter 95: Chapter 95. Read more chapters of Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son.
Finn's face was deadly serious. "Ms. Hinton, you've misunderstood. The truck driver has been found, and he's confessed. He revealed who ordered the hit on you. Mr. Madden thought it would be best if you heard it yourself."
Turned out, Quinn had ordered Finn to dig on this case. My stomach dropped. "Who is it?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
He glanced at me but didn't answer, keeping his tone deliberately vague. "You'll find out soon enough."
The more he avoided it, the more unease churned in my stomach.
When Finn led me into the basement, my heart stopped. There, kneeling on the cold floor with his hands tied, was Elijah. My adoptive father.
I froze, unable to process what I was seeing. The man who raised me, who I'd called my father for so many years, the person who ordered someone to kill me, was Elijah Hinton.
Quinn was sitting off to the side, his expression colder than I had ever seen. His piercing gaze was locked on Elijah.
The moment Elijah saw me, his face paled even more. His voice trembled as he stammered, "Natalia ..."
His voice only made the ice in my chest spread further. I finally forced myself to speak, my voice low and unsteady. "Are you sure it's him?"
Finn handed me a tablet without a word. On the screen were a video of the truck driver's confession and a recording of their phone conversation.
The recording started, and a voice I knew all too well filled the air. "If you kill her, I'll transfer 150 thousand dollars to you after it's done," Elijah said coldly.
"You can disappear from Enschester with that money. If you're caught, claim it was an accident, and I'll send 300 thousand to your family."
Each word hit me like a blow. I stared at the screen, my body cold and numb, goosebumps spreading down my arms.
Finn shot Elijah a disgusted look and said, his voice low but sharp, "You thought you could pin this on someone else and walk away clean. But you forgot one thing: loyalty bought with money is fragile.
"You offered him 300 thousand dollars to take the fall, but someone else offered 650 thousand dollars to bring you down."
Elijah's face went pale, panic flickering across his features.
He glanced at Finn, then at Quinn, who had remained eerily silent, and finally turned to me. Without hesitation, he begged, "Natalia, I can't go to jail! You've already caused your mother's death. Do you want to ruin me too?"
The cellar's steady air conditioning couldn't keep me from feeling a chill that cut straight to my bones.
"I didn't cause her death," I said firmly, my voice sharp and ice-cold. I stared him down, the weight of my anger pressing on my chest. "And you did all this—plotted to kill me—for that?"
It hit me like a punch to the gut. Elijah believed I was responsible for Jenna's death and thought this was his way of getting revenge. How twisted. How unbelievably stupid.
Elijah faltered, his lips trembling as if searching for a defense, but no words came. His silence was louder than any confession.
Quinn finally broke his silence, his voice calm but razor-sharp. "One hundred and fifty thousand dollars," he said, his eyes narrowing. "That's all the Hinton Group is worth now, isn't it? Barely enough to keep the lights on.
"So tell me, Elijah—what would make a spineless coward like you risk everything on some half-baked revenge scheme? Unless..."
He let the word linger, his gaze pinning Elijah like a predator cornering its prey. "There's something bigger in it for you."
Elijah stiffened, his entire body going rigid as if Quinn's words struck a nerve. I stared at him, confused, not fully understanding what Quinn was getting at.
Without missing a beat, Quinn gave Finn a look. Then, Finn nodded and turned to me. "Elijah took out a massive accident insurance policy under your name," he explained, his tone measured but grim.
"If you died in a car accident, he would be the sole heir to the payout—15 million dollars."
The number echoed in my head like a gong. My blood ran cold. Elijah didn't just want me gone, he had put a price on my head.
Turned out, Quinn had ordered Finn to dig on this case. My stomach dropped. "Who is it?" I asked, barely above a whisper.
He glanced at me but didn't answer, keeping his tone deliberately vague. "You'll find out soon enough."
The more he avoided it, the more unease churned in my stomach.
When Finn led me into the basement, my heart stopped. There, kneeling on the cold floor with his hands tied, was Elijah. My adoptive father.
I froze, unable to process what I was seeing. The man who raised me, who I'd called my father for so many years, the person who ordered someone to kill me, was Elijah Hinton.
Quinn was sitting off to the side, his expression colder than I had ever seen. His piercing gaze was locked on Elijah.
The moment Elijah saw me, his face paled even more. His voice trembled as he stammered, "Natalia ..."
His voice only made the ice in my chest spread further. I finally forced myself to speak, my voice low and unsteady. "Are you sure it's him?"
Finn handed me a tablet without a word. On the screen were a video of the truck driver's confession and a recording of their phone conversation.
The recording started, and a voice I knew all too well filled the air. "If you kill her, I'll transfer 150 thousand dollars to you after it's done," Elijah said coldly.
"You can disappear from Enschester with that money. If you're caught, claim it was an accident, and I'll send 300 thousand to your family."
Each word hit me like a blow. I stared at the screen, my body cold and numb, goosebumps spreading down my arms.
Finn shot Elijah a disgusted look and said, his voice low but sharp, "You thought you could pin this on someone else and walk away clean. But you forgot one thing: loyalty bought with money is fragile.
"You offered him 300 thousand dollars to take the fall, but someone else offered 650 thousand dollars to bring you down."
Elijah's face went pale, panic flickering across his features.
He glanced at Finn, then at Quinn, who had remained eerily silent, and finally turned to me. Without hesitation, he begged, "Natalia, I can't go to jail! You've already caused your mother's death. Do you want to ruin me too?"
The cellar's steady air conditioning couldn't keep me from feeling a chill that cut straight to my bones.
"I didn't cause her death," I said firmly, my voice sharp and ice-cold. I stared him down, the weight of my anger pressing on my chest. "And you did all this—plotted to kill me—for that?"
It hit me like a punch to the gut. Elijah believed I was responsible for Jenna's death and thought this was his way of getting revenge. How twisted. How unbelievably stupid.
Elijah faltered, his lips trembling as if searching for a defense, but no words came. His silence was louder than any confession.
Quinn finally broke his silence, his voice calm but razor-sharp. "One hundred and fifty thousand dollars," he said, his eyes narrowing. "That's all the Hinton Group is worth now, isn't it? Barely enough to keep the lights on.
"So tell me, Elijah—what would make a spineless coward like you risk everything on some half-baked revenge scheme? Unless..."
He let the word linger, his gaze pinning Elijah like a predator cornering its prey. "There's something bigger in it for you."
Elijah stiffened, his entire body going rigid as if Quinn's words struck a nerve. I stared at him, confused, not fully understanding what Quinn was getting at.
Without missing a beat, Quinn gave Finn a look. Then, Finn nodded and turned to me. "Elijah took out a massive accident insurance policy under your name," he explained, his tone measured but grim.
"If you died in a car accident, he would be the sole heir to the payout—15 million dollars."
The number echoed in my head like a gong. My blood ran cold. Elijah didn't just want me gone, he had put a price on my head.
End of Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son Chapter 95. Continue reading Chapter 96 or return to Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son book page.