Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness - Chapter 104: Chapter 104

But he loved Victoria so much—could he really do it?
If the three children returned to the Cavendish family, in Victoria's eyes, they would be nothing but thorns in her side.
In that environment... would they really be safe?
I asked myself repeatedly, trying to find even a slightly reasonable answer.
But ultimately, I reached only one conclusion:
No.
As long as Victoria was still there, if the children returned to the Cavendish family, they would only face endless danger.
At this moment, the only way to ensure their safety was to leave—return to England.
The horizon gradually grew light. I rubbed my tired eyes, tidied myself up briefly, and went out to buy breakfast.
The air still carried the chill of the undispersed night. My steps were somewhat light, as if floating in emptiness.
But when I pushed open the hospital room door, my heart jumped to my throat.
There was actually an uninvited guest standing in the room—Victoria.
She was bent over, standing beside sleeping Elodie's hospital bed.
I slowly approached and saw she was holding a fruit knife, gently gesturing while... holding it close to Elodie's face.
My heart lurched violently.
"Victoria..." my voice was tight, "What are you doing?"
Hearing the sound, she looked up with her usual gentle smile, saying softly: "Paisley, you're back."
The knife was still suspended over Elodie's face, less than two centimeters from her tender skin.
I barely dared to breathe.
"What do you want to do?" My voice was low and trembling, but I tried to stay calm.
Victoria looked down at the knife in her hand, then said with a half-smile: "I was just thinking, Elodie's face is so beautiful—if it had a few more scars, what would it look like?"
My fists clenched instantly, my nails almost piercing my palms, "You dare."
"See if I dare."
Looking at her vicious smile, I felt fury burning up from my bones.
"Victoria, she's just a child. How evil can you be to hurt an innocent child?"
"Innocent?" She raised her eyes, full of sarcasm, "You joined forces to harm me. Isn't it just right for your daughter to suffer a little?"
The knife in her hand slowly moved, and I almost wanted to rush forward.
"Paisley," she curved her lips, speaking leisurely, "You didn't really think that with your little evidence, you could send me to prison, did you? Too naive."
She continued waving the knife, and the image made me feel every second that Elodie's face might be covered in blood the next moment.
I gritted my back teeth, forcibly suppressing the urge to pounce, my voice low and cold: "You've done so many evil things, aren't you afraid of retribution?"
Victoria seemed to hear a joke and chuckled lightly: "Retribution? What retribution would I face? The one facing retribution now is clearly you. Your daughter almost died, you were thrown into the sea, as miserable as a dog, but what can you do? Can you avenge your daughter? No. What about Arnold? He gave up on you long ago, only having me in his heart. See clearly—from beginning to end, I'm the winner."
The smugness in her enunciation when she spoke almost suffocated me.
She always knew how to stab hard where I hurt most.
"You saw it last night too, right? Arnold came to pick me up personally. He and Olivia stood by my side. Paisley, you need to admit that no matter how hard you try, you can never beat me. Because I am Victoria—born noble, loved and protected. And you? You're just lowly, humble, only fit to be trampled under my feet."
Looking at the knife in her hand, fury burned up from my chest to my eyes, to my palms. I couldn't bear it anymore and suddenly rushed forward.