Revenge After Death

Ewan was quick and efficient. Mick soon spilled everything -he told us that Dax’s assistant was the one who’d given him the money and instructed him to lead a riot at the Lincoln Group. He refused to admit that he’d pushed me, though.

I didn’t probe too much. My goal had been to drag out the person behind Mick, anyway. It was clear to everyone that Dax was behind everything, but he’d managed

to get away every time so far.

It didn’t matter, though. I could get rid of his people one by one and replace them with my own. After all, he had Martin behind him, and their roots ran deep.

“Martin’s getting on in years, and Dax is his only son. Think about how sad Martin would be if he were to lose his only heir.” Steven had gone to collect the medical report with the nurse, so I spoke to Ewan. “I know you’re smart, Mr. Bart. I don’t care why you’ve approached Steve; I just know that we have a common enemy.”

Common enemies, to be exact–Martin and Dax.

The fact that Ewan had chosen to stand with Steven as soon as Ignatius fell was enough to tell Martin and Dax that he was ready to wage war against them.

They were as ruthless as they came, so there was no room for Ewan to lose this war

now that he’d chosen to work with Steven.

“I understand.” Ewan nodded. “I’ll do exactly as you and Mr. Lincoln have instructed.”

“Can we sneak any of our people into Dax’s life?” I asked.

Ewan faltered. “He may not be as cautious and sensitive as Martin, but he’s still strict when choosing his subordinates. I’ve thought of a few ways, but he generally doesn’t allow anyone other than his confidants near him. Besides, all the people around him have to get past Martin.”

I chuckled. It looked like Martin kept Dax on a tight leash. Still, all children had a rebellious streak somewhere. I refused to believe that Dax was an exception to the rule.

“Let’s approach this differently. We can’t keep waiting around for Martin. How about

we try doing something about Dax’s bedfellows? Men, in general, are no match for

feminine wiles,” I said.

Upon meeting Dax, I knew that all the men in the Lincoln family were perverts who

couldn’t keep it in their pants. James had been like that, and so was Dax.

They weren’t exactly the same, though. Dax thought of women as his playthings and

cared more about his career. Still, things would sometimes get out of hand when he

was having fun with his playthings.

Ewan gave me a complicated look. Then, he nodded.

I figured that if Martin lost Dax, he probably wouldn’t have any other trump cards or

bargaining chips. That way, Steven would eventually be able to gain a steady Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

foothold in the Lincoln Group.

“The doctor said that everything’s fine, Stephie. This is just a regular prenatal check,”

Steven said when he came back. He still looked as silly and innocent as always. It

was as if he was a pure white sheet.

A voice in my head kept telling me that I had to protect the sheet and keep it white.

“That’s good. Congratulations, Mr. Lincoln.” I took the report from him and, for some

reason, congratulated him.

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I was taken aback. Why did I congratulate him? Had he always wanted to be a father? Or had I promised him

something in the past?

Steven stiffened. Then, he threw his arms around me and held me tightly. His voice was hoarse as he said, “Thank you, Stephie.”

Despite his words, I couldn’t help but feel diffident. I’d forgotten about him, abandoned him, and even fallen for someone else. Did he really… not hate me at all?

At times, I felt like I wouldn’t blame Steven if it turned out that he’d really lost control and murdered me. I was the one who’d done him wrong in the first place–I’d forgotten about him and fallen in love with someone else when he was at his lowest.

I’d even gotten pregnant!

“Let’s go home.” I wanted to take him home. My chest felt stuffy.

“The doctor wants to see me,” Steven said mysteriously. He told me that the doctor had some things to tell him, so I let him go without thinking too much about it.

I sat in the corridor as I waited for him to return. Then, I saw Michael. He looked like

he was almost fully recovered, which made sense. Bad things never died, after all.

He was walking with a middle–aged man and talking about something. When he turned around the corner, he saw me and stopped, He looked like he wanted to say

something to me.