David gazed at the young lady. Her eyes were red from all the crying, and her voice was trembling.

She used to be the child he loved so much.

"Dad, I'm so glad that you're fine. You don't know how worried I was these days!" Jacqueline cried next to the bed only to receive zero response.

She felt weird. "Dad…"

Tory suppressed the surging hatred in him. "Jacqueline, Dad is still feeling weak." That was the calmest possible voice he could make.

"Get a good rest, Dad. Don't worry about anything and focus on your recovery. You've got to look after the house," she comforted.

"Okay," responded David succinctly.

The protruding veins on the back of his hand went unnoticed by her. He was gripping the bedsheet vehemently.

It took everything in him to rein himself back from killing her.

The sheer thought of her past deeds stirred a storm of emotions in him.

All he could do was close his eyes and repeat to himself not to give the game away. He had to tolerate it for Olivia's plan.

In fa