Five Years Up I Reveal I'm The Richest He Kneels And Begs novel Chapter 95

Chapter 7

The medical staff arrived swiftly, stopping the bleeding and bandaging my wounds with practiced

efficiency.

Benjamin was livid. “Emily, you’re beyond saving!”

He waited until the doctors finished treating me before hurling those words at me and storming

out.

Nathaniel poured a glass of water and held it to my lips. “Take a sip. Your lips are cracked and

bleeding.”

I stared at him coldly, unmoving, silent.

He sighed. “Everyone stands with Isabella–even your own brother. I heard Benjamin used to dote on you. Have you ever considered why you ended up completely alone?”

My response was flat. “I have. Three years ago, I shouldn’t have saved you. Shouldn’t have brought you home. Shouldn’t have treated you like family.”

The brief relief on Nathaniel’s face hardened into icy severity.

That night, after I fell asleep, he slipped into the bathroom to take a call.

The hospital room was quiet enough that I caught fragments of the conversation.

“The men who did this–have they been dealt with?”

“Yes, Mr. Hawthorne! I apologize–I never expected them to smear that filth on Emily’s phone!

They’ve been… permanently neutered.”

A satisfied hum.

“Mr. Hawthorne, we investigated. Emily wasn’t lying. Isabella did provoke her first–smashed her mother’s ashes, then dared her to break her arm to see how you’d retaliate…”

A pause. Then, carefully, “You… misjudged her.”

The truth had always been this easy to uncover.

So, Nathaniel–what would he do now?

His answer came, low and unshaken. “The person I love has every right to do as she pleases. As for everyone else…”

He didn’t finish.

He didn’t need to.

Everyone else–even if Isabella killed them, he’d cover for her.

And I?

I was everyone else.

That was his stance. If Isabella ended me one day, he’d probably praise her for “knowing how to

protect herself.”

Hah.

I shut my eyes tightly.

All those years of trust–wasted.

When Nathaniel returned, he gently tucked the blankets around me.

The gesture was tender.

My heart no longer stirred.

At dawn, I woke Siri.

“Call Alexander.”

The dial tone rang out.

Nathaniel, returning with breakfast, froze mid–step as realization struck. “That day… you could’ve used voice command to call for help.”

I met his gaze. “And then what?”

Silence.

“Then let you force me, yet again, to apologize to the woman who desecrated Catherine’s ashes?

I’d rather die.”

He flinched as if struck.

The ER doctor’s words haunted him, “Five minutes later, and not even a god could’ve saved her.”

That warning clung to him like a nightmare–even now, he barely dared to blink.

His fists clenched, then slowly uncurled.

The call connected on the final ring.

“Alexander,” I said, voice steady. “Find me a new bodyguard.”