Chapter 9
As dusk fell and the sky darkened, we returned to the guesthouse after a fun–filled day, only for the manager to bring us some troubling
news.
Camila went missing.
“Have you checked the surveillance footage?” I asked, my brows furrowing.
He replied, “We’ve already checked all the surveillance footage. She disappeared behind the walking path. It’s still an undeveloped hillside. Search teams are already on site.”
Frowning, I asked further, “How long has she been missing?”
“About three hours now,” he said.
A wave of frustration rose within me. I stood up and ordered, “Get some walkie–talkies and round up more people for the search. I’m going to look for her myself.”
Melissa blocked my way, scoffing, “Why waste your time? She’ll come back later.”
I couldn’t bear that an accident ruined the reputation of my venue. I still decided to look for her.
Melissa just stared at me in silence and shook her head.
Many of our male classmates who’d been hanging out with us that afternoon also immediately volunteered to join the search.
Looking at their eager faces, I couldn’t help but recall all the mockery from before. I really experienced that the higher one climbed, the nicer people suddenly became.
Behind the walking path, the so–called hillside turned out to be quite extensive, making the search rather challenging.
I convinced Melissa to stay back at the guesthouse, while the staff fanned out to search.
Given Dennis’s frail condition, I pressed him onto a nearby rock and thrust the map into his hands. “Just stay back and coordinate. Don’t follow us.”
His brows furrowed slightly. “Then don’t push yourself.”
I knew my limits. I must be out of my mind to go looking for her if she weren’t on my turf.
With a flashlight in hand, I carefully made my way into the woods, the noise of dry leaves crunching underfoot mixing with distant shouts from the search party.
We went deeper into the woods, and the evening chill crept under my skin, sending goosebumps across my body.
The flashlight beam swept frantically through the darkness.
“Shit,” I blurted out.
With my heart still pounding, I swept my flashlight a little further ahead and spotted a solitary figure in the distance. Relief washed over me–it was only Camila, not some ghost.
I took a sigh and said, “Camila, come with me.”
She turned to look at me, her nails digging deep into her palms. “Why should I?”
I frowned. “What?”
A gust of wind rustled the leaves.
She suddenly broke down and screamed hysterically, “Ashley, how could you still get everyone’s favor? I’m the rightful heiress of the Dyson family.”
My gaze dropped. At the thought of the scar on Zane’s arm, a cold smirk curled at my lips.
With one hand, I discreetly switched the walkie–talkie to another channel, hoping Dennis was smart enough to take the hint.
1/4
“What’s so funny?” Camila snapped.
I looked at her and said coolly, “You’re the Dyson family heiress, you have Shane’s undivided attention, and everyone’s fawning admiration. What more could you
bly want?”
She sneered, “Shane? Who
does
We think he is? That guy’s a complete fool.”
“He’s been more than good
ou, I said.
Shane’s open favoritism stood in stark contrast to the quiet concern of and Zane.
He never hid his devotion–from the hairpins he carved by hand to custom–designed clothes and accessories. Each piece loudly proclaimed his partiality to Camila to the world.
Camila sneered, “He never even told me about the Hunter family’s assets. Is that what you call being good to me?”
My expression grew complicated. Had she paid more attention to the Hunters, she would have realized they were none other than the legendary Hunter family everyone talked about.
She was just too greedy and selfish.
Camila
Camila shouted, “Why does Kane only dote on you? Why does Dennis care only about you?”
I said coldly, “Camila, do you truly understand them?
“You spent nineteen years with Kane, yet you only learn his true identity now? And after reuniting with your own brother, did you ever once care about Dennis?
“You’re just so self–important, thinking everyone should play second fiddle to you and indulge your every whim unconditionally. How pathetic.”
Camila bit down hard on her lower lip, her eyes blazing with bitter resentment.
She said, “All of this was rightfully mine from the start.”
I gave her a mocking smile. “Yes, it was rightfully yours. But tell me, what exactly did you do when you first learned you were a Dyson?”
Her eyes widened sharply as she stared at me in stunned disbelief.
I met her eyes and asked, “Did you set that fire on purpose just to make Bryan think you were living in misery?
“Did you spread rurnors that I kicked you out of the Dyson family just to win sympathy from the Hunters?”
Camila sneered, “Ashley, you get to play the saint, So what does that make me?”
Camila trembled all over and murmured, “It was all rightfully mine… All of it…”
The flashlight dug painfully into my palm as I clenched it.
I took a deep breath and said, “Do you know Zane almost died in that fire? He went there to save you.”
All of a sudden, a dull thud rang out.
Something struck the rock behind me.
I turned around, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
Shane stood not far away, his face hidden in the darkness. His arms hung at his sides, trembling slightly, and he remained completely silent.
It was the walkie–talkie that slammed against the rock. Dennis stood silently behind him,
I lowered my gaze. Suddenly, I felt a pang of pity for Shane, who always sheltered under his brothers’s wings.
“No.. It’s not that… That’s not me…” Camila murmured in a daze.
Getting impatient, I turned to her. “It’s pitch dark now. Come with us-”
2/4
A sudden yank on my arm threw me off balance. I stumbled back a few steps, and my foot mét empty air.
“Ashley,” Shane cried out in alarm.
Dennis also called out, “Ash!”
A searing pain burned through me and woke me up.
My eyes fluttered open to the blinding light. As my vision cleared and I finally made out the figure in front of me, tears welled up uncontrollably.
“Zane, do you really have to disinfect the wound with alcohol?” I whimpered.
Zane glanced up at me with a stern expression. “Let this be a lesson to you.”
“Ash, don’t go to such dangerous places alone.” Kane sat on a nearby stool, a faint smile playing on his lips, but he made no move to stop
Zane.
Feeling wronged, I pouted and finally took in my surroundings–this was a room the Hunter family had specially renovated just for Zane, packed with surgical equipment.
THE
At that moment, Camila happened to be standing on a steep slope. She gave me a sudden shove, and though Shane managed to grab
me just in time, we both went tumbling down together.
Just thinking about Shane, I winced in pain–he must’ve crashed right into that tree.
My gaze drifted to the bed next to mine. Shane sat at the edge, his legs and arms covered in gruesome abrasions. His ankle was sprained, and with his head bowed and glistening tears at the corners of his eyes, he looked utterly pitiful.
Feeling a sudden pang of sympathy, I blinked at Zane. “I’m fine, Zane. Could you tend to Shane’s wounds first?”
Zane gave Shane a cold glance and scoffed, “It’s a pity the fall wasn’t fatal.”
I somehow wanted to laugh.
Since when did Zane learn to be so sarcastic?
Shane blinked but didn’t say a word.
Fortunately, my abrasions weren’t too extensive, and the treatment was over quickly.
Dennis carefully carried a bowl of freshly made soup from the kitchen. He gave me a thorough once–over, only relaxing when he was sure I was all right. Then he said, “Ash, have some soup to help you recover.
As I drank the soup, he took the opportunity to sit at the table, offering a sheepish grin. “Ash, are you still hurting anywhere?”
I stole a glance at him.
Dennis scratched his head and glanced at Shane. He explained, “Well, you can’t really blame me for all this. I didn’t plan to give him the walkie–talkie, but he overheard as he walked by and just snatched it before I could stop him…”
Hearing this, Shane let out an exasperated sigh.
Dennis looked at me and/continued to fuss over me. “Ash, you know what? It almost scared me to death. I couldn’t keep up with Shane, so I missed my chance to get hurt with you. You’re not mad at me, are you?”
I was speechless upon hearing his words.
Shane finally couldn’t hold back and snapped, “Dude, you’re a grown man. Why are you talking like such a sissy?”
Dennis explained, “That’s what we call a ‘bitch‘–acting weak to get sympathy.” He let out a light chuckle and added, “You weren’t even the target, dear, and why are you getting upset?”
Dennis’s words hit a nerve, and Shane fell completely silent.
I stifled a laugh. Dennis surely had countless ways to make Shane uncomfortable.
My phone kept buzzing. I checked it and saw there was a string of messages from Melissa.
3/4
Melissa: [Ashley, you okay?]
Melissa: [Seriously? You fell and hurt yourself?]
I just typed. [I’m fine.]
A reply from Melissa popped up right away. [You lied to me again. You never told me Zane is also your brother.]
Melissa: [That rising star in Beverllie’s medical circles, successor to Prof. Taylor, is actually your brother.]
A rising star in the medical circles?
I stole a glance at Zane, who was methodically treating the wounds with practiced ease.
Was I really so caught up in the Dyson family’s internal battles that I missed everything else? How did I never realize Kane and Zane were such big shots?
My phone kept vibrating.
Melissa: [You have no idea how dashing Zane looks when he shows up. He just effortlessly scooped you in his arms and took you back.]
Melissa: [You missed it. Shane had to crawl back like a wounded soldier. Eventually, someone took pity on him and carried him back.]
Reading that, I couldn’t help but chuckle. Crawling back? That must’ve been a sight to enjoy.
“Ouch! Zane, go easy.” Shane grimaced through clenched teeth, his face contorted in pain.
Zane pressed the alcohol–soaked cotton ball down harder, making Shane’s face turn even redder with pain.
Zane’s lips were pressed into a thin line, and he remained silent.
Kane stood by the bed, adjusting his glasses with a rare stern expression. “Are you really this stupid? Must I spell it out for you word by word?”
Shane knew he was at fault. He glanced nervously at Zane’s sleeve, and after a tense pause, muttered, “Zane, I’m sorry.”
“Just to me?” Zane snapped.
6
Shane’s face flushed crimson. He darted a fleeting glance at me and mumbled, “Ash, I’m sorry.”
I turned my head, pretending to be confused. “Huh? Are you talking to me? Can’t hear a thing.”
“I said I am sorry,” Shame repeated.
I arched my brows. “Sorry, what was that? Still can’t hear you.”
“I SAID I’M SORRY,” Shane barked.
