Chapter 510


    Marguerite stared nkly at Frederick’s retreating figure, her lips unable to form aplete sentence


    no matter how hard she tried.


    Her chest began to heave uncontrobly as waves of emotion crashed over her.


    Head bowed, she couldn’t stop the tears that streamed down her cheeks.


    Her sobs were restrained, but they still reached Frederick’s ears.


    Perhaps, Marguerite truly loved him, but what did it matter?


    In his world, it seemed that aside from hatred, he was utterly incapable of love. He couldn’t love any


    woman, including Marguerite.


    By all means of propriety, he should beforting her now, rubbing her back or offering a shoulder,


    followed by some noble titudes about remaining friends if not lovers. Yet, his hands remained


    clenched into fists at his sides.


    He wouldn’t even afford her that final courtesy. He feared misunderstanding, feared a point of no


    return.


    If the past couldn’t be reimed, then it was time to choose an end at this juncture.


    It wasn’t long before the sound of a hospital bed’s gears broke the silence.


    Frederick turned at the noise and saw Chuck leading Manley in, with two bodyguards following,


    pushing the hospital bed Manley had previously upied.


    The little guy looked up and saw Hayes lying unconscious on the bed, immediately stumbling over in


    his oversized hospital gown, leaning over Hayes’ bedside.


    Marguerite quickly wiped away her tears, noticing Manley’s gaze on Hayes-lost and worried.


    He pondered, “What’s wrong with Little Mute? Was he asleep or in aa? He seemed so serious.”


    Manley couldn’t wait and looked urgently at Frederick, asking, “Daddy, what’s… what’s wrong with


    Hayes?”


    Frederick was pondering how to respond to Manley when Chuck, oblivious to their conversation, began


    to report:


    “Mr. Winston, we’ve set up Manley’s bed next to Hayes. Also, we’ve located the doctor who drew blood


    from Hayes today. What would you like us to do


    with him?”


    A chill settled around Frederick, his gaze turning icy, “Let him face the consequences in Yuna’s stead.”


    Chuck replied in hesitation, “Mr. Winston, do you mean to exile him to Africa, strip him of his


    citizenship, and leave him to his fate?”


    “Yes.”


    Manley was confused. Although not the brightest, and a bit slow to catch on, he understood the


    implications when Chuck mentioned a doctor drawing blood from Hayes. Could it be that Little Mute


    had drained his own blood to save him?


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    Suddenly filled with remorse, Manley shook his head incredulously at Frederick, mumbling, “How could


    this happen? Mommy promised me, she said she wouldn’t draw blood from Hayes! She promised me…


    Frederick’s brows furrowed. What was this? Yuna had arranged for Hayes’ blood to be drawn, and


    Manley knew about it?


    He was about to inquire when Teresa, who had been filling a hot water bottle in the utility room, saw


    Manley and hurried over.


    She pushed Manley aside and shielded Hayes on the bed fiercely, “It’s all your fault! Little Mute gave all


    her blood to save you! You’re nothing but trouble!”


    Manley, in a panic, burst into tears, protesting, “I’m not trouble! I’m not trouble! I told Mommy not to


    take blood from Hayes! She promised me! My mommy wouldn’t lie to me!”


    Frederick knelt down to level with Manley’s shoulders, asking softly, “Manley, tell Daddy, how did you


    know about Hayes having blood drawn? Did your mom tell you?”


    Manley shook his head instinctively, “She didn’t tell me. I overheard her talking to Grandma. She said


    she had to draw Hayes’ blood no matter what.”


    No matter what? Damn it! So this was premeditated by Yuna!


    She never cared for Hayes’ life!


    What kind of mother would do such a thing? What was she trying to achieve?