The Hide and Seek Game That Lasted a Lifetime novel Chapter 33

Chapter 5

Charles lowered himself to the floor before her, his gaze fixed and unyielding. The chill in his voice cut sharper than ice.

“Diana told me everything. You poured soapy water on the stairs—that’s why Evan slipped and hit his head so badly. He’s still unconscious! Vivian, you’ve been putting on a convincing performance these past few days. If you didn’t want to look after them, you could have just said so. But to go after my son? That’s a boundary you should never have crossed.”

A sharp, agonizing pain stabbed through Vivian Bennett’s chest, as if her heart itself was being squeezed.

“I didn’t…” she began, her voice trembling with desperation.

But Charles was unwilling to listen any further.

He stood abruptly, turning his back to her with a cold, unyielding edge.

“Someone take her to the isolation room. She stays there until Evan wakes up.”

The isolation room at the Foster Estate was located deep in the basement.

It was a small, two-square-meter brick cell—barely enough space to stand, let alone lie down.

“No… please, don’t!” Vivian’s sobs burst forth uncontrollably.

“Charles, it wasn’t me! I was in the backyard searching for something! You can’t just blame me for this!”

Charles hesitated for a brief moment but never glanced back.

“I only trust one thing—my son’s mother wouldn’t lie to me.”

Despair clouded Vivian’s eyes as she was dragged away. Charles climbed into the car quietly and murmured, “Drive to the hospital.”

At that very instant, two burly bodyguards stormed in, forcefully knocking her to the ground before hauling her toward the basement.

In that moment, a memory flashed through Vivian’s mind—right after their wedding, she had casually mentioned how beautiful champagne roses were. The very next day, Charles had flown in the rarest variety and had them planted all across the garden.

Tears had filled her eyes then.

“Mr. Foster… why are you so kind to me?” she had whispered.

Charles had wrapped his arms around her from behind—the safest place she had ever known.

“They’re your roses,” he had said softly. “And you… you’re mine. Be good. From now on, call me husband.”

But now, those very same roses—stained with her blood—were being trampled mercilessly by his guards.

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