?Chapter 992:


    “Ernest, what’s the update?”


    “Linda’s out of surgery.”


    Eric froze for a beat, his jaw tightening. “I’ll head there now.”


    He ended the call but didn’t move right away—his eyes lingered on the closed door to Hadley’s room, heavy with thoughts left unsaid.


    Then, without a word, he turned and walked away.


    Behind him, Denver stared, momentarily stunned.


    Eric actually just left?


    His phone buzzed again in his pocket. He fished it out, ncing at the screen before answering with a sigh, “Yeah, Mom… I know. I’m on my way back.”


    He looked onest time toward Hadley’s door before sliding the phone away. There wasn’t much else he could do now. The doctor had made it clear—no visitors tonight. He’d just have to return in the morning. On his way out, Denver stopped at the nurse’s station and took out a card.


    “Please,” he said, offering it to the nurse, “if there’s any change in Hadley Pearson’s condition—VIP Room 9—call me right away.”


    “Absolutely,” the nurse replied with a gentle nod.


    “Thank you,” he murmured, and then turned and walked off, leaving behind a corridor steeped in silence.


    Linda had been hit by a car. Her injuries were extensive—far from minor. She hadn’t regained consciousness since the surgery.


    After being stabilized, she was transferred directly to the ICU. For Eric, it was another crushing blow—his already grim expression turned deathly pale.


    His fists clenched at his sides, trembling with barely contained rage. “Ferris!” The name escaped his lips like venom, spat with seething hatred.


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    Phillips had already briefed Ernest on the chaos that had unfolded that night. While Linda’s injuries weren’t a direct result of Ferris’ actions, there was no denying it—none of it would have happened if Ferris hadn’t orchestrated the abductions in the first ce.


    Ernest looked over at his brother. Eric’splexion was ashen, and the weight of the night still hung heavy on him. Two women—both close to him—hospitalized, broken, caught in the crossfire of someone else’s sick game.


    Guilt clung to Eric like a second skin.


    “And Hadley?” Ernest asked, breaking the silence. “How is she?”


    Eric’s eyes dimmed further. He shook his head. “Not well,” he said quietly. Just the memory of Hadley convulsing in that hospital bed, doctors scrambling to stabilize her—it twisted something in his chest.


    Ernest’s brow furrowed. Something still didn’t add up. “Do we know how the fire at Blisey Dock started?” he asked. “Has there been any word from the police?”


    Eric exhaled sharply. “Nothing. It’s still under investigation.” Then, suddenly—his entire body tensed. His expression shifted, turning stone-cold. “It was Ferris.”


    “What?” Ernest blinked, startled by the certainty in Eric’s voice. “You think he started the fire? Are you absolutely certain about this?”


    “Who else would it be?” Eric snapped. “The warehouse, the reversed locations, the timing—he nned it all! And you know what the worst part is?” He gave a low, bitterugh, eyes dark with fury. “No one understands how that bastard thinks. He’s insane. Completely insane. But to say he had nothing to do with it? No. Absolutely not.”


    Both Hadley and Linda had been kidnapped. Ferris had deliberately given him the wrong locations. And then, the warehouse where Hadley had been held caught fire.


    “It was him. It had to be him.” Eric’s fists tightened. “I’m going to find him. And this time, I’m ending it.” He turned, storming toward the exit.


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