Chapter 81

Blood seeped from Susan Thompson's severed finger again.

The rough ground tore open the half-healed wound, revealing a gruesome sight of mangled flesh. Vincent King stared at the mutilated finger, his heart gripped by an invisible fist.

A sudden realization struck him—Susan was innocent.

The truth nearly made him stagger. He had personally destroyed an innocent girl's life, making her lose that pinky forever.

What terrified him more was that if Ethan Sullivan hadn't intervened today, Susan would have been crushed beneath the wheels.

"Get out!" Vincent kicked Liu Jianwen aside and stormed toward the basement behind the villa like a madman.

Roger Davis hurried after him. He had never seen Young Master Vincent so unhinged.

Bang!

The wooden door shattered under Vincent's kick. His eyes bloodshot, he frantically rummaged through the basement like a deranged beast.

"Young Master, what are you looking for?" Roger asked cautiously.

"Susan's finger!" Vincent's voice was hoarse with desperation.

Roger froze. The severed finger should have rotted away by now. What was the point of searching? But he didn't dare question it, dropping to his knees to help.

The bloodstains remained, but the finger was nowhere to be found.

"Young Master... it might be gone," Roger forced himself to say.

"Gone?" Vincent's expression turned eerily calm. "What do you mean, gone?"

Roger immediately summoned all available hands to search. One trembling bodyguard hesitantly raised his hand.

"I... I know where the finger is."

"Speak!" Vincent barked.

"It... it was fed to the dogs," the bodyguard stammered. "Miss Wilson gave it to Miss Capra, and she fed it to the wolfhound in the backyard."

Vincent grabbed the bodyguard by the collar, his eyes flashing with a pain Roger had never seen before.

At that moment, Roger swore he heard something shatter.

Vincent shoved the bodyguard aside and strode out. By the time Roger caught up, the taillights of the black Lamborghini had already vanished into the night.

In the VIP hospital room, Candy Wilson lay weakly on the bed. When Vincent entered, her eyes instantly welled up with tears.

"Vincent..." she whimpered pitifully, tears streaming down. "It hurts so much..."

Instead of the expected embrace, she was met with Vincent's icy stare.

"Vincent, that car crash wasn't an accident," she ventured cautiously. "The driver hit me on purpose!"

"I know," Vincent replied tonelessly. "The driver confessed. He was hired."

Candy's heart leaped with joy, but she forced her expression into one of sorrow. "Who would want me dead?"

"Susan."

Candy nearly failed to suppress her smirk, quickly feigning devastation. "Why would Susan do this? I always thought of her as my best friend..."

"Best friend?" Vincent suddenly let out a cold laugh. "Candy, did you ever truly consider Susan a friend?"

It was the first time he had addressed her by her full name.

A chill ran down Candy's spine. She realized things had spiraled out of her control.