Chapter 430: Quentin Blackwood Sees Ivy Sherwood’s Pregnancy Report

"I might need to go for a prenatal check-up in the next couple of days. I don’t want Quentin Blackwood to know, so I need you to do me a favor."

"Okay," Xavier Mercer agreed without hesitation.

While Xavier Mercer was arranging the trip to Elandra for the New Year, Ivy Sherwood went to the hospital before their departure.

Quentin Blackwood was paying such close attention to Ivy Sherwood that he naturally knew her every move.

There was no hiding the fact that Ivy had gone to the hospital. However, Xavier erased the real reason for her visit and replaced it with a common cold. If Quentin were to investigate, all he would find was a minor cold, not that she had gone for a prenatal check-up.

The day after her check-up, Ivy Sherwood boarded a flight to Elandra with the Mercers.

The thought of meeting her uncle and aunt made Ivy a little nervous.

Meanwhile, as soon as Quentin Blackwood learned that Ivy Sherwood had gone to the hospital, he of course investigated immediately.

When he found out it was just a common cold, he was still a little worried.

He also knew that Ivy was going to Elandra. He probably wouldn’t see her again until after the New Year. The thought of not being able to see Ivy for so long made Quentin feel like the time ahead would be unbearable.

Ivy Sherwood had a family now, and the Mercers treated her well. Quentin Blackwood was happy for her.

’It’s a shame I’ll be spending the New Year alone again this year.’

But he was alone every year, so Quentin was used to it. He never really celebrated holidays; his workload never lessened.

On the very day Ivy left, Quentin missed her terribly.

Ivy had originally planned to change the lock on her door, but she had left in a hurry and didn’t get around to it. ’Anyway, I’m not home. Quentin wouldn’t actually go to my place, would he?’

She thought for a moment. ’There’s nothing valuable in the house. If Quentin wants to go, let him.’

Just as Ivy had suspected, that evening, Quentin Blackwood arrived at her house.

Even though Ivy wasn’t there, just being in the place where she lived brought him a great sense of peace.

Quentin still had a lot of work to do, so he brought it with him to Ivy’s house.

After finishing his work, Quentin started reviewing the files on the shooting case again. He had already gone over them intermittently and done a lot of digging.

Zane Linton sent over some new clues and called Quentin Blackwood.

"President Blackwood, it’s just as you said. The shareholder who hired men for the ambush was instigated. He acted with extreme secrecy, so there’s no direct trail to the mastermind, but the tangled web of clues all points to the person who took Miss Sheridan’s shares."

"We pulled all the surveillance footage from the Sheridan Group. There’s something suspicious. President Blackwood, I suspect Miss Sheridan was not unaware of this matter."

Zane Linton quickly sent the footage to Quentin Blackwood. The Sheridan Group’s cameras were only in public areas; there were definitely none inside the offices.

There was a camera outside Old Master Sheridan’s office with a view of his door. On the day of the incident, Joy Sheridan had gone inside.

But with the door closed, it was impossible to hear what they discussed. Only a faint sound could be detected.

"President Blackwood, we had professionals clean up the audio, and this is the best they could do. It’s not perfectly clear, but you can faintly hear Miss Sheridan asking President Sheridan to take you home after dinner."

"If that’s really what she said, then President Sheridan giving you a ride home was no accident or coincidence. Miss Sheridan must have known something. And why would she know, unless..."

A ruthless glint flashed in Quentin Blackwood’s eyes. ’If Joy Sheridan really did this, then...’

"Have you arrested that man?" Quentin was referring to the suspect shareholder.

"He’s been arrested, but he’s not confessing."

"Keep pressing him. Use some leverage. Shut down all his private businesses. I don’t care what methods you use, you have to make him talk."

Quentin’s expression was cold and grim, his usually indifferent eyes now veiled with a sharp, ruthless edge.

Quentin played the processed recording from Zane Linton over and over again. The audio had been isolated and enhanced, but because the door was closed, the original sound was extremely faint. Even amplified, it was still hard to make out clearly.

But he could indeed faintly hear Joy Sheridan’s voice: "Grandpa, after you finish dinner tonight, can you take Quentin Blackwood home?"

Quentin played it countless times. It was definitely those words.

His temple throbbed, and his hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms.

He would rather it had all been an accident than have Old Master Sheridan’s death be connected to Joy Sheridan.

Old Master Sheridan had adored his granddaughter, Joy. Nearly everyone in high society knew it. Joy had grown up surrounded by love, and Old Master Sheridan had given her everything.

Though Joy’s parents had been gone for many years, Old Master Sheridan had showered her with even more love. He was the person who treated her best in the entire world.

’If Joy harmed her own grandfather just because she wanted to marry me, then she is utterly foolish. What right does she have to even exist in this world!’

Joy Sheridan was still in the Mercers’ custody. Quentin Blackwood lit a cigarette, but it did nothing to calm him down.

Quentin walked out onto the balcony. He stared at the scattered starlight outside and smoked several more cigarettes before coming back in.

The room was silent, but Quentin’s mind was in turmoil.

The inner room was Ivy Sherwood’s bedroom. He went inside, hoping her scent might calm him.

He didn’t have a habit of snooping through people’s things, but he noticed a piece of paper stuck in the crack of a drawer. Quentin pulled the drawer open and saw that the paper was a hospital report.

Quentin’s heart skipped a beat. He remembered that Ivy had gone to the hospital, and the patient’s name on the report was indeed Ivy Sherwood.

But the further he read, the more shocked he became. This wasn’t a medical record for a common cold at all—it was a pregnancy report.

Quentin’s pupils contracted. Ivy Sherwood... she was pregnant!

The date on the report was from over a month ago. That was right around the time he had told Ivy it was over between them.

’It’s my child!’

Quentin’s mind went blank with a deafening buzz. His body felt as if it had been submerged in ice-cold water, leaving him completely numb.

He remembered now. Around that time, Ivy had seemed like she had something to tell him, but because of what was happening with him, he hadn’t taken the time to listen.

After she returned to Lustre, she had even rushed back to Aethelgard to find him. She probably wanted to tell him then, but Quentin had never given her the chance.

Not only had he not given her a chance, but he had also said all those horrible things...

Quentin felt as if he’d been plunged into an icy abyss. His mind was blank, making it almost impossible to think. His face was a mask of profound regret.

’No wonder,’ he thought. ’Last time, I felt that even though Ivy was still so thin, her waist seemed a little thicker.’

’And that night, I was so rough with her... I...’

If he had known sooner that Ivy was pregnant, he would never have said those things. He would never have broken up with her!

Knowing all this now, Quentin felt like a complete bastard. He felt he no longer had any right to pursue Ivy.

’My brother-in-law went too easy on me,’ Quentin thought. He wanted to punch himself a couple of times.