Night of Destiny (Anastasia Tillman)

Chapter 58 For a child this small to be left alone in a crowd, Jared could have been kidnapped by some ruffian working for a syndicate and no one would have noticed at all.

The amusement park was not too far away from here. Elliot drove over and pulled up outside the parking lot. At present, there weren't a lot of people at the amusement park entrance and only Francis stood there, waiting with Erica and Naomi in tow.

When Erica heard that Jared had been found, she started to become evasive and immediately denied having anything to do with his going missing.

The mysterious car was gleaming under the lights as it rolled to a stop. Then, the door swung open as Anastasia stepped out of the car with Jared in her arms.

Francis practically flew over to them and hurried to crush Jared against his chest, his tears streaming down his face as guilt ate away at him. “Oh, my darling grandson. You gave me a fright!” However, in the midst of this joyous reunion, Anastasia’s murderous gaze was fixed on Erica. The rage that boiled within her was urging her to look for an outlet; otherwise, she might combust on the spot.

At the sight of the baleful look on Anastasia’s face, a wary Erica took two steps backward and demanded, “Why are you looking at me like that, Anastasia?” It was when she saw how uneasy and evasive Erica was that Anastasia’s anger renewed. She raised a hand and brought it down hard across Erica's face, the slap resounding in the crisp evening air.

“Ow!” Erica shrieked, her eyes wide in bewilderment.

“You just slapped me! You're out of your mind, Anastasia!” She darted behind Naomi for cover while whining, “Mom, she just slapped me!” Naomi instantly wrapped her arms protectively around her daughter as she turned to snap, “How dare you strike my daughter, Anastasia!” “If you can’t take care of my son, Erica, then don't offer to do it! Don’t think | don’t know what you were planning to do,” Anastasia seethed as she glowered at Erica mutinously. “You little wench! Do you have proof that Erica lost your son on purpose?” Naomi countered defensively, shielding her daughter. Francis knew that he bore the bigger responsibility in this, so he walked up to the women and interjected in a pained voice, “Anastasia, it was my fault. Don’t blame Erica.” Fueled by intense anger, Anastasia maintained her gaze on Erica as she warned darkly, “Stay away from my son! If you so much as get close to him or try to hurt him, I'll kill you where you stand!” “Don’t go around making baseless claims, Anastasia,” Erica retorted, refusing to admit to her misdeed.

To the side, he felt his heart twist when he saw his two daughters snapping at each other. He turned to Anastasia and cajoled, “Anastasia, it was my fault. It really was.

| promise | won't let Jared out of my sight anymore.” Jared, on the other hand, pouted. “Mommy, don’t be mad. | shouldn't have walked away on my own.” Anastasia’s rage was quelled by the sound of Jared’s voice. What mattered most was that her son had returned safely, so she swallowed her anger and turned to remove Jared out of Francis’ arms.

“Dad, thanks for helping tonight. I'm sure Jared is badly shocked too. I'll take him home now and you should get back and call it a day.” Having said that, she cast Elliot a brief look and turned to saunter back to his car. Meanwhile, Erica kept her eyes on Anastasia and it was only then that she noticed the man next to Anastasia. Her eyes widened in surprise when she registered the man’s features in the dim lighting. Why does this man look like Anastasia’s son? Could he be the kid's father? By the time Erica tried to get a second glimpse of the man, he had turned away from her and all she saw was the elusive silhouette of his back.

When Elliot's car drove away, Francis let out a sigh of relief and said to Naomi and Erica, “Come on, let's head home.” He couldn't bring himself to blame Erica for what had happened to Jared. After all, she had no experience in babysitting whatsoever, and while she had been careless, it didn’t necessarily mean she was at fault.

Naomi, however, was belligerent that her daughter had to suffer Anastasia’s wrath. She didn’t do anything wrong, so why was she the one to be slapped? However, only Erica knew that she had truly intended to abandon Jared at a place that was somewhere crowded. In fact, she had so viciously wished that the boy would be kidnapped. Alas, the universe was against her, for it brought the child back in one piece.

More importantly, she wanted to know who that mysterious man was. It had taken her all but one look to discern that he had the innate grace of nobility, and he definitely wasn’t just some average Joe.

Meanwhile, Elliot had stopped outside the apartment community where Anastasia lived. When he saw that there was a pharmacy next to it, he headed in without a word, leaving her baffled as she stared after him with Jared in her arms.

Not long after that, Elliot came back with a carrier bag of something.

Being extremely grateful for his help this evening, Anastasia said, “Thank you so much for what you've done tonight, President Presgrave. It's getting late, and you should be going back.” Elliot looked at her and offered, “I'll walk with you to your apartment.” Anastasia spun on her heels and headed into the elevator with Elliot in her wake. They made their way up the building, and upon arriving at her apartment, she opened the door and turned on the lights. The little one shuffled over to the couch and sat down on it, looking like a sad puppy waiting to be lectured.

“Mommy, | was wrong. Please don’t be mad anymore.” “I'm not angry, just... flustered. | was too flustered and | lashed out,” she confessed. She knew that her son saw the violent confrontation she had with Erica.

Suddenly, Elliot reached out to grab Anastasia by the wrist and pulled her into a sitting position on the couch. She gaped at him, but before she could ask, the man crouched down in front of her. His large hand clasped her left calf, and it was only then that she noticed the bloody gash that measured up to about two inches in length on her leg.

Given how she had not tended to it in time, the blood had crusted over, even though the wound was still there.

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