<h4>Chapter 543: Tearing Open the Wound</h4>


    Among all the spections, this was the only one that seemed realistic. Because even if Victoria had been pushed off the building, James had never once revealed any ws over the years.


    So, it was impossible. James had made his preparations, but he had never been cruel enough to demand a divorce from Victoria!


    Eric extended his well-defined fingers, trembling as he flipped through the photos one by one. Each photo captured a different angle.


    Even James and Grace, with their panicked expressions and disheveled clothes, along with himself wailing in agony, had all been photographed.


    Once again, Eric saw himself as a child.


    The wound was ripped open, raw and bleeding—it hurt so much!


    He was a grown man now, yet that childhood experience had be a defining moment in his life.


    That blood-red dusk—Eric would never forget the sheer helplessness and terror he had felt. In the photos, he started off confused, then eventually burst into uncontroble sobs, his face contorted beyond recognition.


    These photos were drenched in sorrow, making Eric’s heartbeat nearlye to a stop...


    As if the tragedy was unfolding before his eyes once again!


    Cold sweat broke out on Eric’s forehead, his heart twisted in pain, and his temples throbbed violently, as if something in his mind was reying the nightmare over and over again—relentlessly tearing open his scars.


    With a furious roar, he swept the photos off the table, scattering them onto the floor.


    His entire body felt weak. He slumped into his chair, leaning against the backrest, and picked up his phone to dial John’s number.


    "John, get over here... right now."


    John was startled. What had happened to Eric? Why did his voice sound so frail and exhausted?


    "Understood, Mr. Nelson. I’ll be there right away!"


    John had just returned from his honeymoon in Country Y only a day ago. He had nned to take another three days off before returning to work.


    But the moment he received Eric’s call, he ignored his wife’sints, hastily dressed, and rushed to thepany.


    When he arrived and pushed open the office door, a thick, choking smell of smoke filled the air, making him freeze for a moment.


    Eric rarely smoked.


    He only did so when he was in an extremely bad mood, deeply frustrated.


    Having worked with Eric for so many years, John had only seen him smoke twice—once when E broke up with him, and the second time when she went to find Elias alone.


    During that period, Eric had been like apletely different person—cigarette in hand at all times, reeking of strong, acrid smoke.


    "Mr. Nelson, what happened?" John asked softly, his gaze shifting to the photos scattered on the floor.


    His expression darkened instantly.


    He hadn’t seen the people in these photos before, but he could vaguely guess who they were.


    Kneeling down, his hand trembled slightly as he picked up one of the photos. In it, a seven-year-old Eric was clinging to Victoria’s lifeless body, wailing in grief.


    John’s heart filled with a bitter sorrow. Who had sent these photos to Eric?


    Logically speaking, after Victoria jumped, James had immediately called emergency services. The medical staff arrived quickly, and no one should have had the time or reason to take such photos.


    The only possibility was that the person who took them was either a reporter or someone who had deliberately kept these photos all these years.


    Grace had been with James at the time, and if it had been him, Eric wouldn’t have let hime near.


    "Find out... who the hell took these pictures!"


    Eric’s breath was heavy, his eyes cold as ice.


    His sharp, handsome features wereced with chilling hostility, his entire presence exuding a stormy fury.


    There was a murderous glint in his eyes. "That bastard must have a death wish!"


    Whoever had taken these photos was probably nning to leak them.


    Back then, Eric had been only seven years old—too young to understand the news.


    Besides, the trauma of Victoria’s death had already been enough to push him into bing a withdrawn, autistic child.


    "Have these photos ever been published?"


    "Alright, boss, I’ll check right away."


    "And... check if these photos have ever been published," Eric said harshly, his eyes shing with malice.


    John nodded, gathering the photos before quickly leaving Eric’s office to find his brothers and use special means to track down the bastard who sent the photos.


    Eric, however, remained seated in his office until his secretary walked in with some urgent documents, snapping him back to reality.


    He opened the files, but after just a few nces, he couldn’t continue.


    It felt like his heart was being pierced by countless needles, the fine pain causing his face to turn pale, cold sweat dripping down his brow.


    What should he do?


    How had he be like this?


    So much time had passed, yet upon seeing those cruel photos, Eric was once again confronted by the tragedy. He suddenly hated himself for not being able to protect his mother properly!


    The sky seemed to darken, and he couldn’t see a shred of light.


    He didn’t know how long he sat there.


    Then, E called him. She had received a call from John, which prompted her to reach out to Eric.


    Eric’s mood was off, so John, worried, secretly called E.


    "Eric, when are youing home? How about we go pick up our son together?" E’s voice was gentle, and for the first time, Eric’s thoughts began to return to his body.


    He gasped lightly, wiping his sweat, and casually replied, "You go ahead and pick him up... I need to wait here for a bit before heading home."


    Eric was worried that if E saw him in this state, she’d be deeply concerned. So he needed to get his emotions in check before returning home.


    "Are you really okay? Eric, John told me everything. If you’re feeling bad, juste home, okay? Don’t think too much..."


    Eric felt a twinge of annoyance, silently cursing John for meddling.


    He insisted that he was fine, and E, helpless, went to pick up their son alone.


    Eric sat back down in his chair, cold sweat forming in his palms.


    It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be honest with E, but she was pregnant now, and he didn’t want to burden her with too much stress.


    Clearly, his emotional state was being influenced by his past struggles with autism and depression.


    The photos, however, had plunged him back into hell, causing his heart to break all over again.


    He couldn’t forget how Victoria, the woman who had loved him most, had once tenderly given him the world, only to leave him so suddenly!


    He couldn’t ept it.


    At five o’clock in the afternoon, E arrived at the entrance of Little Prince Kindergarten to wait for their son.


    Elias and Dorian came out together, and E noticed that Ms. Taylor was no longer teaching at the school. E knew that Taylor had some kind of rtionship with Lin.


    But what kind of rtionship it was, she didn’t want to ask further. After all, anyone who had interacted with Isaac or provided him with information had been secretly handled by Eric.


    "Mommy, why didn’t Daddye to pick me up?"


    "Yeah, where’s Daddy?"


    Usually, E and Eric would pick them up together, but sometimes he was busy with work. Still, the kids really missed their dad.


    "Daddy’s busy. He’ll probably be home by the time we get there," E forced a smile.


    Just then, a little boy ran over but was stopped by two bodyguards.


    "Big sister, it’s me!" The little boy was beaming with excitement, his eyes sparkling with a warm, golden light.


    E suddenly remembered this boy—he was the one who had mistaken her for a modelst time.


    To be honest, after Brandon’s incident, E didn’t have much fondness for boys who liked to draw. But since she didn’t know this boy, she didn’t feel any dislike either.


    She gave a simple nod. "I remember you. Is there something you need?"