Father‑in‑Law Died in My Wife's Game

When I arrived at the hospital, I scrambled out of the car and helped the medical staff transfer Eason onto a stretcher and into the operating room.

When Mr. Leigh arrived, he was so alarmed by the sight of me covered in blood that he insisted on rushing me to the emergency room. A doctor diagnosed me with a minor concussion and a fracture in my left arm. She was still treating my wound on my forehead when Mr. Leigh walked in.

"What happened, Mr. Jowett? I went to the parking lot and saw the state of the car. How was it damaged so badly?" he asked.

I shook my head, remaining silent. I wanted to believe that Cindy hadn't done it on purpose. If she had known it was her own father in the back seat, she surely wouldn't have gone through with such a reckless act. At any rate, I had successfully gotten Eason to the hospital, so I was willing to let the matter rest.

Mr. Leigh, who knew me well, realized I didn't want to pursue the issue. "Mr. Chapman has safely arrived at the hospital. As long as you're alright, we can forget about the rest!"

I'd always valued harmony over conflict, living by the principle of live and let live. However, the doctor stitching my forehead couldn't stand it any longer. She said huffily, "You can't just let something like this slide, sir. Do you realize how badly wounded you are?"

Mr. Leigh agreed with the doctor. He had inspected the damage to the car and realized that Harley had rammed into me with full force, clearly intending to kill.

"Mr. Jowett, I know how kind-hearted you are, but…"

Before he could finish his sentence, a doctor in a white coat burst into the room, his expression grave. I recognized him immediately as the lead surgeon in charge of Eason's operation. My heart skipped a beat, and an ominous chill washed over me.

"Mr. Jowett, Mr. Leigh, we tried our best," the doctor said heavily. "Our condolences. Mr. Chapman arrived too late. If he'd made it just a minute earlier, then… Furthermore, the glass shards sliced into his blood vessels, resulting in excessive blood loss. So…"

Upon hearing that, the world went silent, save for a dull buzzing in my ears. I felt as if I had been struck by lightning. If not for the doctor catching me, I would have collapsed backward.

We'd been a minute too late, and the glass shards had cut into Eason's blood vessels.

Cindy and Harley stalled us deliberately, and the glass shards were the direct consequence of their cruel intent. They had essentially signed his death warrant. If not for them, Eason would never have died.

Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. Having interacted with Eason for the past few years, I had long since come to view him as my own father. He had never looked down on me for my humble beginnings; he had taught me how to carry myself with integrity and guided me through the complexities of business management.

He had once told me that Cindy wasn't suited for the heavy responsibilities of the company, and that the burden would eventually fall to me.

He also recognized the strain my marriage to Cindy put on me. He promised that once he reached 100 years old, I could rename the Chapman Group to the Jowett Group.

I still couldn't fathom that Eason, who embraced me like a son, was gone just like that. And worst of all, it was at the hands of his own daughter.

My chest tightened with a searing, suffocating rage. Mr. Leigh, who had served Eason for decades, was equally devastated.

"Ms. Chapman is still unaware of this. Should we inform her?" he asked.

I offered a cold, mirthless smile. How would Cindy react when she discovered she had caused her own father's death?

Just as I was about to answer, several uniformed police officers walked into the room. "Are you Ian Jowett? We've received a report that you were involved in a hit-and-run. You need to come with us to the precinct."