Chapter 2702: Everyone Must Pay for Their Mistakes

Three days later.

Amid the drenching night rain, Sylvan Cheney drove back to the Janus Family villa.

On the road, Erin Janus called him from the hospital: "Evan, are you still at the office? The baby just kicked me, really hard. Do you think she wants to come out?"

"Maybe, it’s about time." Sylvan’s voice was as cold as the rain outside.

"Are you... not feeling well? You sound a bit off. Don’t overwork yourself, there’s no rush for work, you know."

"I’ll come to the hospital tonight to see you." With that, Sylvan hung up directly, without answering Erin’s question.

The sky was pitch-black, with only the roadside lamps flickering dimly, casting a shimmering light on the puddles on the ground.

The black Maybach sped through the rain, splashing countless water droplets.

Half an hour later, the car stopped in front of the Janus Family villa.

Before he could enter the living room, his phone rang.

"Sylvan Cheney, where are you?" It was Kieran Janus’ voice, urgent and tinged with hidden anger.

"The Janus Family villa."

"You have the nerve to return to the Janus Family villa? What’s going on at the construction site? What’s happening with the bank? And the shares? I’ve been on Phaket Island for a week, what have you been doing?" It was a voice of reprimand.

"At this hour, you should be at Old York Airport. From the airport to the villa is a forty-minute drive. So, see you in forty minutes."

"You! Sylvan Cheney!" Kieran couldn’t even complete a sentence before Sylvan hung up the phone.

The living room was still the same, opulent and luxurious, with many oil paintings framed in gold threads on the walls, exuding a regal European flair everywhere.

Without Sylvan’s instructions, the servants didn’t dare enter the living room, so he was the only one in the vast room.

This villa was later acquired by Kieran, costing over a hundred million, extremely lavish, with expansive grounds and numerous houses and servants.

There was a pot of green tea on the coffee table, still very hot.

Sylvan poured himself a cup, and the tea ran down the cup’s edge, creating white steam, and a delicate tea fragrance wafted in the air.

He sat silently on the sofa, languid, occasionally closing his eyes to rest.

The phone kept vibrating, with Kieran constantly calling him.

However, he didn’t answer any of the calls.

The rain outside was pouring heavily; even with the villa’s excellent soundproofing, the "pitter-patter" sounds could still be heard.

The tea fragrance floated, and the room was silent.

The old grandfather clock in the living room kept moving, and time passed by second by second.

Sylvan’s head didn’t hurt; instead, his thoughts were clearer than ever.

He hadn’t drunk or smoked, just sat quietly, waiting for Kieran to arrive.

These few dozen minutes felt longer than a century; he wasn’t used to waiting for people, and no one was worth waiting for.

Yet he had an accurate sense of time; without looking at a watch, he knew how long it would take for Kieran to reach the villa.

His heart beat with extreme regularity; the agitation and unease from the past few days were slowly subsiding, but the missing piece of his heart could not be found.

Perhaps for the rest of his life, he would have to settle with this incomplete heart.

Life is but a dream.

For mistakes made, there’s always a price to pay, and he is no exception.

Outside the window, the wind rose, clouds surged, heavy rain poured, and the west wind swept up the fallen leaves, dancing like butterflies.