Chapter 171
“Harrison, come back—!” Lauren’s scream pierced through the chaos.
But it was too late. Harrison had already charged into the inferno, disappearing through the crumbling entrance of the main villa.
From a distance, Hubert and Rooney watched helplessly, their sobs mingling with the crackling flames. Panic and despair filled the air.
Helena stood rooted to the spot, fists clenched, her eyes filled with fury.
Who would do something so monstrous?
Who wanted the Lewis family wiped from existence?
Suddenly—
Screech!
A red Maserati skidded to a stop by the roadside, tires screeching as it came to an abrupt halt.
Nash and Hera leapt out and ran straight to Lauren’s side.
“Please… Please let them be okay…” Lauren murmured, visibly trembling.
Though she often scolded Harrison to toughen him up, in this life-and-death moment, all the pretense had fallen away. Her worry for him was raw and fierce.
“Mom…” Hera choked, her voice quivering.
Seeing her daughter, Lauren’s composure crumbled. She opened her arms and pulled Hera close, tears streaming down her face.
“Hera…” she sobbed.
The two embraced, weeping together, finding fragile comfort in each other amid the ruin.
Nash, meanwhile, surveyed the wreckage grimly. The entire estate was in shambles—dozens of guards lay sprawled across the ground, some lifeless, others being frantically tended to by medics in white coats. Flames still licked the remnants of several buildings.
“Mom… where’s Dad?” Hera asked, eyes darting around as panic returned to her face.
Lauren snapped back to the present. “Your father is still inside! Harrison went in to get him—he’s in there now!”
Nash’s gaze immediately shot toward the blazing villa. Through the thick smoke and violent flames, he spotted Harrison—trapped between the second and third floor stairs, heatwaves distorting the air around him.
His clothes were singed, and patches had already caught fire.
Still, Harrison pressed forward.
He pushed through the smoke, teeth clenched, and forced his way up to the third floor.
There, the door to his father’s room lay broken on the floor, half-consumed by flames. The ceiling sagged, and fire raged along the walls and furniture. The room was a furnace.
“Dad!” Harrison shouted, his voice hoarse and frantic.
Cain had always favored his eldest son, but none of that mattered now.
Right now, he was simply a son trying to save his father.
His eyes welled up as despair clawed at his chest. The searing heat blurred his vision, but then—
Cough—
Cough… “Harri…”