It's Your Turn To Cry and Beg, Dear Uncle
Chapter 21: Loss of Trust

Chapter 21: Loss of Trust

James rushed downstairs, his heart pounding, tangled in a web of anxiety. His mind swirled with worst-case scenarios, each more harrowing than the last. Worry gnawed at him, but anger burned just as fiercely.

Every time he replayed the scene where Lila shoved Kyra off the balcony, a murderous rage surged within him. His hands twitched with the urge to grab Lila by the throat, but he forced himself to focus. Kyra’s safety came first. He needed to see her. He needed to know she was okay.

As his feet hit the bottom of the stairs, his heartbeat thundered in his ears, each step amplifying his dread. Fear crept in, no matter how hard he tried to push it away. The haunting what if lingered, impossible to dismiss. After all, he had been the first to see her fall.

The first to watch as her blood stained the water red.

James followed the crowd to the back of the restaurant, where Kyra was receiving first aid. He shoved his way through the throng of onlookers, his chest tightening with every step. At the doorway, his gaze landed on his uncle and aunt, their faces etched with worry.

Their concern made his throat tighten, but he swallowed hard and pressed on. Gathering his courage, he turned toward the couch, where a group of security guards stood blocking the view. Step by step, he moved closer. He held his breath when he finally saw her.

Kyra lay motionless on the couch, her face pale and still. A blood-soaked towel was pressed against her head, the stark red blotch growing darker by the second.

James felt as though he’d been submerged in ice water, his breath hitching as his eyes swept over her fragile body. She was covered in injury from head to toe, from tiny scratches to long, deep gashes.

Her lips had turned an alarming shade of purple. It was as if her life was drifting away with every passing moment. Even the movement of her chest was faint, the raise and fall was barely detected.

The sight of her drenched body and hair only emphasizes her fragile frame. It added to the pitiful sight before him. In their desperate rush to treat her injuries, it seemed no one had thought to cover her, leaving her exposed after being pulled from the lake.

As James stepped closer, a security guard moved to block his path. But the glare James shot him was icy cold and burnt with fiery warning that paralyzed the man in place. As he watched James went past him, he didn’t dare move an inch.

Kneeling beside her, James gently took Kyra’s hand. His heart sank as he felt her skin, cold and lifeless, void of the warmth he was familiar with. It was the same unbearable cold he had felt long ago when he had hold his parents’ hands for the last time.

"Why is no one covering her with a blanket?" James growled through gritted teeth, his voice low but razor-sharp. Though he didn’t raise his voice, the weight of his words cut through the air, freezing everyone in place.

"Get me a damn blanket. Now." His piercing glare shifted to the manager, who was already frazzled from the chaos. The middle-aged man, now visibly shaken under James’ intensity, stumbled over his words before rushing off.

Moments later, the manager returned with two thick blankets, his hands trembling. James immediately snatched it before spreading one open with the help of a nearby guard and carefully draping it over Kyra’s cold body. The thick fabric seemed to swallow her small frame, offering a fleeting sense of protection.

As they finished, a team of paramedics burst into the room, their urgency palpable.

"Where’s the patient?" one of them demanded, her voice brisk and commanding.

"Here!" the guard holding the bloodied towel called out. The paramedics immediately took charge, their movements swift and practiced.

In no time, they transferred Kyra onto a stretcher, their efficiency a stark contrast to the earlier panic. Without hesitation, they wheeled her out toward the waiting ambulance, leaving James staring after them, his fists clenched at his sides.

"I’ll go with them. Uncle, Aunt, please take Grandpa and Grandma to the hospital," James instructed firmly before stepping toward the paramedics.

"What about Lila?" Cressida asked, her voice hesitant. Just hearing that name was enough to set James’ blood boiling. That his aunt would still bring up Lila now only deepened his anger. His gaze darkened, sharp as a blade, as he turned to her.

Cressida froze under his piercing stare, her words caught in her throat. The intensity in his eyes told her everything she needed to know. She could already piece together the ugly truth of what had likely happened between Kyra and Lila. Still, her heart resisted. Despite Kyra’s injuries, she couldn’t fully blame Lila.

In her mind, for someone as composed as Lila to commit such an act, there had to be a reason. Surely, she must have been provoked. Why else would Lila risk such a crime? Knowing Lila’s sometimes grating personality, Cressida thought it wasn’t impossible for her to push someone too far.

Kyra’s sole presence could be irritating sometimes. Cressida remembered the time she’d tried to matchmake James with someone else. No matter what she did, James would always prioritize Kyra, shutting down her efforts without a second thought. It was maddening. His unwavering devotion to Kyra was a frustration Cressida couldn’t shake, even now.

It was likely that Lila had grown jealous and demanded Kyra distance herself from James. But Kyra must have refused, triggering Lila’s anger. This wasn’t the first time someone had complained about James prioritizing Kyra over them. Despite their lack of blood relation, Kyra’s closeness to James often stirred jealousy in others.

However, Cressida hesitated to jump to conclusions. Kyra had been quiet and unobtrusive for years now, never interfering again after that one incident. Cressida couldn’t be certain she was still the same stubborn girl who once clashed with her.

Even back then, Kyra’s actions hadn’t been outright malicious. Cressida had tried to involve her in the past, asking her to help convince James to date the women she introduced. But Kyra had simply brushed her off, insisting they didn’t need any special treatment.

Beyond that, Kyra had never harassed the women Cressida brought into James’s life. She was simply inconsiderate—unwilling to step aside when asked, even though she knew James would always choose her above anyone else.

Considering all this, along with the improbability of Kyra hurting herself, doubt began to creep into Cressida’s mind. Could it truly have been Lila’s fault? The thought troubled her deeply. Of all the women she had introduced to James, she had favored Lila the most.

"You don’t need to take care of her. She’ll be handled," James declared firmly before turning and leaving without another word.

Cressida frowned at her nephew’s harsh tone. "What do you mean by that?! James!" she called after him, attempting to follow. But he was already stepping into the ambulance, leaving her no choice but to turn to her husband.

"Dear..."

Vincent let out a weary sigh, his temples throbbing with frustration. Though he wasn’t particularly close to Kyra, she was still family, and he was more or less care for her. Despite his wife’s constant grumbling about the girl, Vincent had always found Kyra obedient and unassuming. This incident had left him deeply unsettled.

"Enough!" he snapped, his voice cutting through her protests. "Are you seriously still thinking about that woman after what she might have done to Kyra? No matter what, Lila is an outsider and Kyra is family!"

Cressida opened her mouth to respond but faltered. "B-But..."

"No buts!" he said sharply, his gaze hardening. "You’d better abandon any ideas of matching that woman with James."

He scoffed, his voice laced with disdain. "You called her a ’good woman,’ but look at what she’s become—a miscreant. If we let her into this family, who knows what she might do? Forget helping us with the family assets—she’ll probably try to take them all for herself. Someone this greedy, willing to hurt a little girl? Tsk! I won’t allow it."

With that, Vincent brushed past Cressida and headed upstairs. Though she felt a surge of indignation, Cressida bit her tongue and followed him.

When they entered the private room, they were immediately struck by the loud noise. Jane stood over Lila, her posture dignified, eyes sharp as an eagle’s, locked on her prey. Without hesitation, she slapped Lila so hard that the woman stumbled to the floor, a thin line of blood appearing at the corner of her split lip.

"How dare you! Who did you just accuse?"

Jane’s expression was now cold and fierce, a stark contrast to the gentle grandmother from moments ago. Her back was straight, her voice calm and measured, yet it carried an undeniable weight, commanding attention.

"I dare you to say it again, Young Lady!"

Lila bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes. The shift in the old lady’s attitude caught her off-guard. She thought she could, at the very least, reason with Jane. With age came experience, so the old lady might be willing to listen to her.

But, she was wrong. The courage she had mustered just now was gone. She didn’t dare to lift her head. However, Jane didn’t let her go.

"Raise your head and look at me!" She commanded fiercely.