Chapter 151
Michael and Joseph, although perplexed, followed Beatrice's instructions, assisting her from her
sickbed to visit Arabella.
Arabella was staying on the same floor as Dorian, the sixteenth. They had just arrived outside
Arabella's room when they saw Vivienne slowly approaching from the other end of the corridor.
Percival had been in an accident, so Vivienne hadn’t had the chance to visit Dorian in the hospital the
day before. She had finally found the time to do so that afternoon.
Naturally, she saw the Hawthorn family members, but she didn’t give a damn. She passed by Arabella's
room without even a second glance at them.
Arabella also saw Vivienne. She sat disheveled on the bed, watching Vivienne walk past her as if she
didn't exist. Arabella could see arrogance, disdain, and schadenfreude in Vivienne's calm demeanor.
For some reason, Vivienne's presence reminded Arabella of the masked woman from that night. The
calm expression the masked woman wore as she made an incision in Arabella's abdomen was eerily
reminiscent of Vivienne’s.
It was as if they didn't see her as a living human being but as an object they could manipulate at will.
"Ahh!" She couldn't help but scream, shouting in terror and rage, "I'm going to kill them! I'm going to kill
them all!"
Not only did the Hawthorns standing at the door get a fright, but so did the entire floor of the hospital.
"Arabella, Arabella, it's alright now." Beatrice rushed in to comfort Arabella.
"Granny!" Arabella cried and clung to Beatrice. "The police don't believe me! Have I endured all this
torment for nothing?"
"The people in the N&S Psychiatric Hospital are mentally ill. They don't have the capacity to be held
legally responsible." Michael didn't show sympathy for Arabella but instead taunted her. "Even if the
police did believe that someone planted bombs in your stomach, do you think there's a way to punish
them? Can’t you stop making trouble? Who told you to go there in the middle of the night?"
Arabella gritted her teeth in fury. She remembered clearly that night when she had called them for help,
but not one of them had answered.
The only one who answered her call was Cordelia.
But now she couldn't risk alienating them. Elijah was in jail, the man in black was nowhere to be found,
and her reputation had been ruined due to her false accusations against Dorian. If Beatrice abandoned
her too, she would have no one left to rely on.
So, in response to Michael's taunts, she said nothing. She only sobbed and asked Beatrice, "Granny,
what should I do now?"
"Don't worry, Granny has a plan." Beatrice gently stroked Arabella's hair. With a glint in her eye and a
hint of satisfaction in her voice, she reassured Arabella. "All you need to do is follow Granny's plan."
Dorian's room was on the same floor as Arabella's, so he had also heard her scream. At that moment,
Cordelia was feeding him soup.
A nurse changing the IV drip nearby muttered, "She should be transferred to the psychiatric ward. Her
constant screaming is scaring everyone."
Cordelia paused in her spooning, then continued as if nothing had happened.
Dorian's eyes darkened when he heard Arabella's scream, but he remained silent, remembering all the
things Arabella had done.
The atmosphere in the room was silent and tense when Vivienne entered.
After seeing her, Cordelia and Dorian immediately brightened up. "Vivienne is here."
"How are you feeling today?" Vivienne asked.
She had given Dorian a life-saving pill. His internal injuries had healed, but the external ones still
needed time.
Not to mention, the trauma Dorian had endured made it hard to find all the wounds.
"The doctor said if everything goes well, he should be able to leave the hospital in about a week."
Cordelia replied.
Vivienne nodded and sat quietly, watching as Cordelia finished feeding Dorian.
Once Cordelia left to wash the dishes, Vivienne asked Dorian, "Mr. Hawthorn, did my mother really only
leave you a perfume formula?"
"Yes, only a perfume formula." Dorian replied with a flicker in his eyes.
Vivienne didn't press him any further, but she had a feeling that Dorian was hiding something from her.
Suddenly, the door to the room was pushed open. Vivienne and Dorian thought it was Cordelia
returning, but when they looked up, they saw Beatrice's gloomy face with Michael and Joseph following
behind her. NôvelDrama.Org exclusive content.
"Mother." Dorian's face darkened instantly.
"You recognize me as your mother?!" Beatrice began with a cold laugh. "I've been hospitalized for so
long, and you've never once asked after me!"
"And have you ever asked after me while I've been hospitalized?" Dorian retorted coldly and then
laughed. "Oh, how could I forget? Why would you ask? After all, weren't you one of the people who
caused me to be hospitalized?"
Beatrice looked slightly embarrassed. In truth, she didn't want to visit Dorian, but her next plan required
a sum of money.
Now that the Hawthorn family was in decline, she had no choice but to seek help from Dorian. "Give
me two hundred thousand dollars, or I'll go to court and sue you for neglect and abandonment."
Cordelia approached the hospital room door and heard what Beatrice said. Her face immediately
turned sour. She really didn't expect Beatrice to have the audacity to show up in front of them.
"We have severed ties with you. We even made it official with a legal document!" Cordelia walked in,
her tone icy.
"Oh, how naive!" Beatrice scoffed. "Ask a lawyer. Can blood ties really be severed? As long as I have
no source of income, he, being my son, has to support me!"
"Don't forget, you took away the formula for Vivienne's mother's signature perfume. The value of that
formula is enough to offset any support you try to claim." Dorian's face contorted. He was taken aback
by Beatrice's audacity. They had agreed to sever ties, and now she was clinging to him again.
"Well, that was then; this is now." Beatrice retorted while shrugging. She could have sold the formula to
get money, but she wanted to keep it as a way of resurrecting Hawthorn Perfumes Inc. in the future.
"Regardless, I raised you, and you have an obligation to support me. I'm not asking for much. It’s just
two hundred thousand. I promise I won't ask you for another penny after this."
"Your promises are worthless."