The phone was on speaker.
Margaret Morgan was so furious she was practically gasping for breath, ready to curse her out.
But Claire Morgan didn’t give anyone a chance to respond—she hung up right after speaking.
Scenes like this were nothing new to me.
So I simply pulled out the bank card I’d long prepared and placed it in Margaret’s hand.
“Mrs. Morgan, you’ve seen it yourself—Claire’s heart isn’t with me. This card contains the money I’ve earned over the years, plus the value of my contributions to the Morgan Group for the past eight years. It should be more than enough to repay the family’s kindness.”
Margaret shoved the card back into my hand as if it were a hot coal.
“Adrian, I’ll go get Claire right now and have her come down to apologize to you!”
Without another word, she turned and hurried toward the eighth floor.
I let out a long sigh, reached for the phone by my bed, and once again dialed a number to New York.
“Hello? Miss Summers? If possible, I’d like to head to New York right away…”
I placed the card in a conspicuous spot, then scheduled an email to Margaret Morgan—detailing every sordid thing Ryan Morgan and Claire had done over the years.
They had toyed with me for eight years; how could I possibly let them go on living comfortably?
By the time I was finished, Margaret still hadn’t returned.
But people from the Summers family had arrived.
A few bodyguards helped me into a wheelchair, and as I reached the doorway, I glanced back at the hospital room.
“Mr. Foster, are you sure you don’t want to pack anything?”
I shook my head.
Once you decide to cut ties, you cut them cleanly.
Those who aren’t worth it—and the lies that come with them—should be left entirely in the past.
Meanwhile, up on the eighth floor, Claire Morgan was being scolded mercilessly by her mother.
Finally, unable to bear it any longer, she shot to her feet.
“Mom! How many times do I have to tell you?! Adrian was the one who pushed Ryan! If I hadn’t pulled him away in time, he might have—”
She stopped abruptly, yanking the blanket off Ryan’s legs to reveal blotches of bruising.
Margaret took one look at the fading marks and let out a cold laugh.
“Claire Morgan! Adrian is your boyfriend! Do you have any idea he was in a coma for three full days, with the bones in his leg completely crushed? And here you are, fussing over someone who doesn’t even have a real injury!”
“What?!”
Claire frowned.
“He was hurt that badly? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
To say she wasn’t worried at all would be a lie.
All these years, whether in the company or in her daily life, Adrian Foster had always been dedicated to her.
But sometimes she spoiled him too much, often making sarcastic remarks about him and Ryan.
And this time, he had even dared to hurt Ryan—so she’d decided to let him cool his heels for a few days, hoping he’d learn a lesson.
Margaret could read her daughter’s thoughts like an open book.
Before she could speak, Ryan Morgan let out a pitiful groan from the bed.
“Claire… Adrian must not have meant to push me. You should go check on him—I’ll be fine…”
Seeing his frail act, Claire quickly sat back down to comfort him.
“Mom, Adrian is far too calculating. I’m sure he’s just pretending to be pitiful in front of you to avoid taking responsibility!”
“I bet he’s even bribed the doctors here…”
But Margaret knew the truth well.
Adrian Foster might be decisive and commanding in the business world, but the man couldn’t even bring himself to kill a chicken—how could he possibly have plotted to harm someone?
