Chapter 382

The man on the bed gasped weakly, his voice barely audible. "It's you. You're the one who sent us after him!"

Rosalind's face twisted in horror. "No! That's a lie! I would never—!"

Her exaggerated reaction made Theodore's brows furrow. His expression darkened as suspicion flickered in his gaze.

Seeing his doubt, Rosalind clutched his arm desperately. "Grandpa, don't listen to him! He's lying! Nathan is the man I love—why would I ever hurt him?"

Nathan's voice cut through the room like ice. "If it wasn't you, then who?"

Rosalind pressed a trembling hand to her chest, her eyes reddening. "Nathan, you know how much I love you. I would never—never—!" She spun toward the bed, her voice rising hysterically. "Who are you? Why are you framing me?!"

Oliver swiftly pulled her back before she could lunge forward. Rosalind looked every bit the wronged innocent—frantic, tearful, desperate.

Evelyn watched in silence, her fingers curling into her palm. If Nathan hadn't traced his plan onto her skin earlier, she might have believed the de Arma family was truly behind this.

Nathan's lips curved into a cold smile. "Really? You're certain it was the de Armas?"

"You have to believe me, Nathan! It must be them—!"

"Then why would he accuse you?" Nathan's gaze sharpened. "Do you even know anyone from the de Arma family?"

Rosalind froze.

"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "I don't. I don't know why they'd—"

"Enough." Theodore's voice cracked like thunder. His face was stern, his patience worn thin. "If the de Armas wanted Nathan dead, he wouldn't be standing here now. I may be old, but I'm not a fool. Rosalind—tell me the truth. Did you send them?"

Rosalind dropped to her knees before him, tears streaming. "Grandpa, I swear it wasn't me!"

Theodore closed his eyes. He had raised Rosalind—watched her grow. The thought of her betrayal was unbearable.

When he opened them again, her tear-streaked face stared back. His expression softened slightly. "Get up."

Then, turning to Oliver, he commanded, "Find out who's truly responsible."

Oliver nodded smoothly. "Understood, Elder Master Goldmann."

Nathan stepped forward, his tone unreadable. "And if we do? Will you let me handle it?"

Theodore hesitated. Nathan never sought his approval—why now? The storm outside mirrored the tension in the room. Exhausted, Theodore waved a hand. "Do as you see fit."

Rosalind wiped her tears and clung to Theodore's arm. "I'll go back with you, Grandfather."

He nodded.

The moment they left, Oliver tapped the "injured" man's shoulder. Evelyn's eyes widened as he sat up, unwrapping the bandages with ease.

It was Nathan's bodyguard.

"Oliver, Mr. Goldmann—I nearly suffocated under all that gauze," he groaned, stretching. "But how was my performance? Convincing, right?"

Oliver smirked. "Excellent. Mr. Goldmann will reward you handsomely."

The man grinned. "Perfect! I'll take my leave, then."

Evelyn stared, stunned. "Wait—so this was all staged?"