Chapter 522: I've Had Enough
"Sam?" Joyce murmured.
Of course, she trusted him.
Sam might seem carefree on the surface, but he was never the kind of rich kid who just wasted his days away.
He might not be a genius, but he was definitely putting in the effort, growing and improving.
"Although Sam let the whole Callan incident slide, Callan's been following you and harassing you for days. If he couldn't deal with it himself, he sent others to do it. How much more can Sam tolerate?" Adeline said with a smile. "I heard Harrison mention it casually, and Sam's already making plans. Don't worry."
Joyce felt a sense of relief, but worry still lingered in her eyes.
"Callan is crafty and ruthless," she said. "What if Sam gets hurt again?"
It wasn't that she doubted Sam's abilities.
But when it came to cunning and cruelty, Sam could never outmatch Callan.
"Sam will be cautious," Adeline replied. "He knows exactly what Callan is like."
"True."
As they were talking, Alondra had finished her shower and emerged from the bathroom.
But her face looked unusually pale.
"Alondra, what's wrong?" Joyce asked.
"Didn't you use hot water? You look so pale."
Alondra shook her head. "I did. It's just that when I saw the bathtub, I... I got a little..."
It was an odd coincidence.
This hotel, although far more upscale than the one Alondra stayed at, had a strangely similar bathroom setup.
The bathtub was also very much like the one in that hotel.
While she was in the bath, Alondra suddenly remembered that day.
She had been in the hotel's bathroom, listening to her parents arguing outside,
trembling in fear.
When she ran out of the bathroom, she found her mom lying on the floor in a strange way.
Her dad scolded her, then sent her back to the bathroom.
Back then, Alondra thought the arguing was over.
She even accidentally fell asleep in the bathroom.
When she woke up, her dad told her that her mom was gone.
That was a day she would never forget, a day full of sorrow.
So when Alondra looked at the bathroom and the bathtub just now, it all came rushing back.
"The bathtub? What's wrong with it? Is it broken?" Joyce asked, confused.
"No... It's just, I miss my mom," Alondra said softly.
Her words made both Adeline and Joyce
pause.
They exchanged a glance but didn't press further.
Adeline called room service and ordered a cake to be delivered.
When the cake arrived, Alondra ate it while she haltingly shared what had happened that day at the hotel.
Though Alondra didn't recount everything perfectly, and kids' memories can sometimes be a little off, Adeline and Joyce understood enough to guess what must have happened.
Both of them looked serious.
Callan received a call from one of his subordinates.
"We just got word that the man you sent to follow Miss Monroe, after he followed her into a hotel, was dragged out through the back door by a few bodyguards."
Callan's brow twitched, and he almost crushed the glass in his hand.
"Useless!" he spat out coldly.
He had specifically instructed them to be careful.
With Joyce and Adeline together, there were bound to be more bodyguards.
Yet the man still got caught.
He hadn't really planned anything malicious, just a few pictures to ease his longing.
He had no way of meeting Joyce, so he'd had someone follow her, taking photos of her daily life.
Was that really such a crime?
The subordinate sensed Callan's anger and dared not speak.
Suddenly, there was a loud rush of footsteps outside Callan's room, and then the door was thrown open.
Callan's rage had found its release. He hurled the glass across the room and shouted, "Can't you knock before entering?"
The person who barged in was a maid who had nearly been hit by the glass and was visibly startled.
But she barely noticed that now, quickly saying, "Mr. Crawford, Mr. Green just collapsed. You need to come right away."
"What?" Callan's face changed immediately.
He sprang to his feet and rushed to Jamarion's study. The door was wide open, and the room was a mess.
Jamarion was lying on the sofa, his face ashen, his eyes tightly shut.
"Mr. Crawford."
Seeing Callan, the maids seemed to find their leader.
"Mr. Green, he..."
"What are you panicking for?" Callan snapped.
"Get the family doctor here, now! No, wait... get him to the hospital."
Jamarion had his own doctor, but at that moment, Callan could tell that a simple doctor wouldn't be enough.
He quickly gathered a few men and rushed Jamarion to a private hospital, one where
Jamarion had a stake. The doctors there wouldn't dare slack off.
After examining Jamarion, the doctor looked very serious.
He told Callan some technical terms that he didn't fully understand, but a few things were clear.
Jamarion might be in a coma for days. As for when exactly he would wake, that depended on his constitution.
Even when he woke up, he would be weak.
The doctor carefully told Callan that Jamarion might only have six months left.
Callan's face gave nothing away.
Once he was alone, a cold laugh escaped his lips.
"That old bone is..." Callan muttered. "finally going to die. I've had enough."
Did Callan have any feelings for Jamarion?
Maybe a little.
But more than that, he hated Jamarion.
When Callan was young, Jamarion had failed as a father, letting him suffer abuse and hardships.
Now, Jamarion was no help and was even trying to stop him from seeing Joyce.
Jamarion had finally collapsed.
No one could keep Callan down now.
And when Jamarion was gone, as his son, Callan could take over his entire empire.
By then, he would have the power to go head-to-head with Sam.
Callan grinned, a feeling of triumph washing over him.
He was on his way to find Joyce when he suddenly saw the elevator doors open.
Two middle-aged men stepped out.
Callan recognized them. They were loyal subordinates of Jamarion and had been with him for decades.
One of the men looked at Callan with a serious expression and asked, "Where are you going?"
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