Chapter 807 Raymond’s Sins Are Etched In Stone
“The Lenoirs are here?” Cherise’s eyebrows shot up like startled sparrows.
With no time to ponder, she followed Syatt like a shadow.
Zooming past the wards, she caught a fleeting glimpse of Lyra, her eyes swollen, emerging from one. Cherise didn’t give it much thought; after all, this girl was overly dramatic, shedding tears over the most trivial things.
Entering Raymond’s ward alongside Syatt, Cherise encountered a bustling corridor.
There was Maeve, slumped on a bench with Charles nervously buzzing around like a concerned bee. And Tristan, head hung low with shoulders slumped, stood nearby. On the opposite side, Damien brooded like a raincloud, surrounded by some of the loyal servants of the Lenoir family.
In a corner, Wanda, the epitome of nonchalance, tapped away on her phone, probably indulging in some gossip with her friends.
As Cherise stepped in, Charles stood up. “Dr. Shaw… uh, I mean, Cherry!” he stammered with a nervous grin. “I’m so glad you made it. Can you… uh, talk some sense into Dame?”
Cherise furrowed her brows, her gaze sweeping the room. With a slow smile, she settled next to Damien, taking his cold hand in hers. “Charles, what exactly do you want me to convince Damien of?”
“Please… ask him to spare my father.” Tristan’s voice rasped from the shadows, filled with the weight of his request.
“I know this seems crazy, asking you for this…after everything.” He said while meeting Cherise’s gaze. His face bore the marks of time and desperation.
His only remaining eye held a glimmer of vulnerability. “Cherry, you should understand where I’m coming from. Raymond Lenoir is my dad. I know he messed up and deserves some punishment. I promise that once I bring him back to Adania, I’ll uncover all his illegal activities and send him to jail. Just… can you let him live?”
Tristan’s voice grew more determined, his eyes burning with a quiet fire. “You might not know this, but for the past five years, Damien has been consumed by finding you, leaving the company on the brink of collapse. I took charge, kept things running, and never asked for a fancy title or a hefty paycheck. I simply put in the hours, day after day. I might not be an outstanding performer; perhaps I stumbled a bit, but no one can say I didn’t give it my all. I’m ready to keep working for Damien until I retire, until my last breath… I just hope you and Damien would be willing to spare my father’s life…”
Cherise pursed her lips, her eyes shifting to Damien’s somber face. Her mind grappled with the weight of the request.
After a tense silence, Damien raised his head, his eyes like molten steel. He locked onto Tristan, his voice dripping with icy rage. “You pleaded for your father, Tristan, but who pleads for mine? Who brings them back? Who heals the wounds your dad tore into my mom, the innocent one in all of this? Your parents are your shield, while mine are ghosts haunting me. Why should your precious family walk free when mine is buried six feet under? Who compensates Maeve and me for what we have lost?”
His voice grew hoarse, anger contorting his features. He pointed a finger at Maeve’s carefully restored face,
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still a mask of unnatural perfection. “Tell me, can you undo what your dad did to my sister?”
Tristan fell silent, swallowed by Damien’s fury. After a long moment, he met Damien’s gaze. “The past cannot be rewritten. But…”
Damien’s words, cold and sharp as a blade, cut through his. “So your father’s sins are etched in stone, too.”
Tristan’s lips tightened. Catching a glimpse of Damien’s raw vulnerability for a fleeting moment, he leaned in, his voice a husky plea. “Dame, please, for the sake of what remains of our bond. Do this.”
III
