Entangled With My Rival CEO

Chapter 118

Outside Reynold's hospital ward room, a tangible sense of unease hung over the small group of family members.

"I have to go now... There are other matters I must attend to," Harriet calmly stated, her voice unwavering despite the gravity of the situation.

She approached Alexander and offered him a reassuring pat on the back, her touch conveying a blend of affection and concern.

"I'll join you, Mom. I need to pick up some things for Clary and the kids," Sophia swiftly chimed in, her determination apparent in both her words and actions.

Harriet nodded in agreement, acknowledging Sophia's choice.

Together, they began to walk away, slowly retreating from the hospital room, leaving Alexander, Isabel, and Charles standing side by side in the corridor.

As Harriet and Sophia walked away, a heavy atmosphere of concern and uncertainty lingered in the corridor.

Alexander's gaze remained fixed on the closed hospital room door, determination etched across his face.

Isabel, the youngest among them, turned her attention to Charles, who stood with his hands in his pockets, a stoic expression on his face.

Her eyes held a mixture of worry and curiosity as she addressed him.

"Charles...do you really think Red Saint is behind all of this?" She began, her voice soft and tinged with uncertainty. "Do you believe he's... still alive?"

Charles took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before responding in a hushed tone.

"We have no choice but to keep investigating. If Aunt Clarissa is correct, and Red Saint was the one who called her that night...if he's responsible for Uncle Rey's accident, then we need to be prepared." His voice carried a somber determination as he looked directly at Isabel, his demeanor unusually serious.

Isabel, with a hesitant tone, asked, "Prepared for what?"

Charles replied with unwavering determination, "For war."

His words hung heavily in the air, sending shivers down the spines of Alexander and Isabel.

They exchanged uneasy glances before Alexander broke the ominous silence by walking into the hospital room.

Inside the room, the sight of Jennifer, Juliana, and Daniel waiting anxiously filled him with a sense of responsibility.

They rushed to hug him as he entered, seeking comfort and reassurance.

Alexander embraced the kids warmly, returning their affection with a blend of love and resolve.

"Hey, kiddos," he greeted them with a gentle smile. "I'm here now, and we're going to make sure everything's okay."

Jennifer, Juliana, and Daniel nodded, their young faces a mix of hope and concern. Juliana expressed their collective sentiment, "We want Dad to wake up, Alexander."

Daniel echoed her thoughts, "Yeah, we don't like seeing him like this."

Alexander knelt down to their eye level, placing his hands reassuringly on their shoulders.

"Don't worry, your Dad is a fighter, and he's going to make it through," he assured them, then glanced at his aunt, who was still lost in thought by her comatose husband's side, and a melancholic smile touched his lips.

Several hours later, Alexander, Charles, and Isabel exited the hospital.

They approached Alexander's car, where he assumed the driver's seat, Charles occupied the front passenger seat, and Isabel took her place in the back.

Once everyone had settled in, Alexander initiated the car's engine and steered it away from the hospital parking lot.

The air inside the car carried a somber weight, laden with their anxieties and the unresolved enigma surrounding Red Saint.

The journey unfolded in an atmosphere heavy with silence, where even the softest sighs or shallow breaths seemed amplified.

The collective weight of their concerns bore down upon them, stretching each mile on the road to an interminable distance.

Charles, occupying the front passenger seat, chose to disrupt the silence.

He cleared his throat, his expression betraying a seriousness that contrasted with the quiet tension in the car.

"So, how was Paris?" Charles inquired, his voice maintaining a carefully neutral tone. "Any progress with Camilla?"

Alexander's grip on the steering wheel tightened imperceptibly, and he paused for a moment before responding, his words deliberate.

"No," he replied, opting to conceal the truth.

Given the tumultuous circumstances surrounding Red Saint's potential survival, Reynold's precarious condition, and the upheaval that had engulfed their lives, it seemed prudent to keep his reconciliation with Camilla hidden, at least for now.

Alexander's gaze remained fixed on the road, the passing scenery becoming a blur as he navigated through traffic.

Isabel's voice, coming from the back seat, probed further, tinged with her own sense of disappointment.

"So, it's truly over between you two?" Her words carried a hint of sadness.

Alexander's eyes remained fixed on the road, his demeanor composed as he answered, "...Yes."

Although his response was steady, a subtle hesitation lingered in his voice, a reflection of the unease he felt about deceiving his family, especially on matters as personal as his relationship with Camilla.

Charles's gaze remained trained on Alexander, unyielding and filled with curiosity.

Alexander knew his cousin well enough to sense the skepticism concealed beneath the calm exterior.

"So, she's really engaged to that musician?" Charles probed further, seeking clarity.

"Yeah," Alexander replied, attempting to infuse a sense of resignation into his voice. "She's indeed engaged to him."

Isabel, seated in the back, kept her thoughts to herself, pondering the implications of Alexander's words.

Her hopes for a different outcome had been dashed; it appeared that her brother's relationship with Camilla had indeed come to an end.

Within the confines of the car, the tension was palpable, leaving Alexander acutely aware of the discomfort that hung in the air.

Eager to shift the conversation away from his personal life, he broke the silence by asking, "Were either of you present when they brought Uncle Rey in?"

His question was brief but intended to redirect their focus.

He glanced at Charles, whose expression had taken on a distant and contemplative quality.

Alexander's inquiry seemed to send him into deep thought.

•~•~•~•~•~

Flashback

•~•~•~•~•~

On that fateful night of Reynold's unfortunate car accident, Charles sat inside an 18-wheeler truck parked opposite a 2021 black Cherokee Latitude LUX model jeep, both vehicles idling on the roadside.

The car's headlights were still on, indicating that the person inside was engrossed in a phone call.

Charles's expression was hard and unwavering as he stared at the man in the jeep.

His right hand rested on the car's gear shift, his furrowed brows betraying the anger coursing through him.

He couldn't help but reflect on an incident from two years prior.

At that time, Charles had been at his mother Sophia's house, visiting and enjoying some quality mother-son time.

They had been in the kitchen, sharing laughter and bonding over cooking.

However, their joy was interrupted when one of the household staff informed them of his Aunt Clarissa's arrival.

Sophia had abruptly left the kitchen, promising to return and continue their culinary adventure.

Charles had been left to knead the cookie dough by himself, not at all bothered by his mother's desire to attend to her beloved younger sister.

As time passed without Sophia's return, Charles decided to check on them himself, using it as an opportunity to greet his aunt.

When he reached the sitting room, he sensed an atmosphere heavy with tension, evident from the look on his mother's face - a look he despised.

It was a look of sadness, depression, and dejection.

He overheard Sophia's words as she spoke with Clarissa, her voice strained with emotion.

"After everything I did for him... I brought myself down to his level, stopped my career, my life."

"I even went against my own mother's wishes and married him, yet he still treated me like I was nothing... like I was some trash."

As Sophia's words hung in the air, her voice growing increasingly strained, Charles couldn't help but recall the painful memories of her past, marked by abuse and betrayal at the hands of his father.

As Charles witnessed his mother's pain, a surge of emotions welled up within him, emotions he had been struggling to contain.

He couldn't bear to see Sophia in such distress, and her suffering tore at his heart.

His gaze shifted to Clarissa, who appeared nonchalant, sipping her juice before placing the glass on the table and letting out a contented sigh.

"Well, at least I'm lucky I didn't get such an asshole for a husband... My Reynold is the best man any woman can wish for," she remarked, her tone seemingly oblivious to her sister's agony.

"I mean, I don't even do a quarter of what you did for Robert, and he still worships the ground that I walk on."

"And even when I do very questionable things, My Rey would NEVER lay a finger on me."

Charles couldn't help but wonder about Clarissa's intentions as she spoke these words.

Was she trying to flaunt the perfection of her marriage compared to his mother's troubled one?

Or was she indirectly highlighting that Sophia had been unlucky in her choice of husband? The ambiguity of her words left Charles pondering.

Sophia responded with a forced chuckle, though her eyes betrayed her unease.

"Ah, so lucky you are, Clary... But thank God I'm finally getting myself free from my scumbag of a husband... I just can't wait for this divorce to be finally finalized once and for all."

Upon hearing this, Charles wasted no time and presented himself to them, he didn't hesitate and immediately put on a fake, welcoming smile as his eyes met Clarissa's.

"Oh, Charles... I didn't know you were here," she acknowledged with surprise, her tone polite, and Charles maintained his smiling facade.

"I was in the kitchen... thought I'd come to say hello to you," he explained casually.

Clarissa seemed to grasp the situation and shifted the conversation. "Oh... So you came to spend some time with your mom..."

She glanced at Sophia, who had regained her composure and was genuinely smiling now.

"Yeah, I did... Uhm... Would you care for some cookies, Aunt?" Charles asked suddenly, seemingly out of the blue.

He clasped his hands together, waiting for Clarissa's response. An undetectable sinister glint gleamed in his eyes as he focused on her.

Ever since that day, he had wanted nothing more than to strip away every ounce of happiness, to take away everything that brought joy to Clarissa's life, especially Reynold.

He wanted to tear them apart so that she would be as broken as his mother, if not more so, once he was finished punishing her for the sins she committed against his poor mother that day.

Knowing how much his aunt loved her husband but also wasn't willing to let go of some of her negative traits, he planned to use that against her marriage with Reynold, particularly a secret he overheard her sharing with his mother years ago about cheating on him with his best friend.

He had managed to get his hands on the sex tape featuring Reynold's best friend, Noah, who had been attempting to blackmail Clarissa into engaging in the illicit affair again.

However, she vehemently refused.

Charles had then sent the tape directly to Reynold on their wedding anniversary, hoping it would be a devastating blow to their marriage.

Yet, Reynold continued to maintain the illusion that everything was okay in their relationship.

Charles' vendetta against Clarissa and Reynold had taken a dark and dangerous turn.

He had resorted to extreme measures, using other people to try to break them apart.

Two of the women he had manipulated in his twisted game ended up losing their lives, one at his own hands and the other as a result of his sinister orders.

Despite Charles's relentless efforts to break them apart, Clarissa and Reynold managed to overcome the obstacles and reconciled.

Their love proved resilient, defying all odds.

With his schemes failing to tear them apart, Charles accepted that if they were truly committed to honoring their wedding vows, most especially the phrase "till death do us part," then he was prepared to fulfill that particular vow, even if it meant resorting to extreme measures.