Chapter 458 - 461: Begging Wren Sutton

The night was heavy and dark, and the lights in the Marshall family home stayed on all night, a testament to their desperation.

The foundation they had built over a lifetime, the prestige and connections accumulated over generations, had all become worthless in the face of their daughter’s imprisonment and the severe sentence she faced.

Mr. and Mrs. Marshall had been strong-willed their entire lives. Decades in business, and they had never bowed their heads to anyone. Their only weakness was their only daughter, Maya Marshall, whom they had doted on and spoiled since she was a child.

Even though they knew their daughter was paranoid and stubborn, that she had committed an unforgivable crime, in their eyes as parents, she was still their child to be protected with all their might, no matter how great her sins.

From the day the evidence was confirmed, the Marshall family began a desperate campaign to save her, no matter the cost.

They first emptied all the company’s liquid assets, then sold off their mansions, shops, and luxury cars. All their valuable assets were sold at a loss. The once-thriving business empire crumbled in a matter of days.

Business partners who once came in a steady stream, old family friends—Mr. and Mrs. Marshall visited each one, casting aside all their pride and dignity. They pleaded in hushed tones for them to pull strings and speak on their behalf, willing to offer their entire fortune just to secure a lighter sentence for Maya Marshall.

The sycophants of the past now avoided them like the plague.

Everyone knew Adrian Lancaster was the one behind this case.

No one dared to cross the Lancaster family.

Adrian Lancaster had always been decisive and ruthless. Moreover, Maya Marshall’s actions had nearly harmed his wife and child, touching upon the one line he would never allow anyone to cross.

Mrs. Marshall, her eyes red from crying, dragged her exhausted body from place to place, calling on every contact she could reach. She refused to let go of even the faintest glimmer of hope.

Some, feeling sympathetic, tried to persuade Adrian Lancaster. The Marshall family was already bankrupt, their family ruined. They had paid a terrible price. Why not show some mercy and leave Maya Marshall a way out?

But all these pleas fell on deaf ears when they reached Adrian Lancaster.

No one could persuade him, and no one dared to truly force his hand.

One rainy night, Mr. Marshall came to their door himself. He stood outside the Lancaster family’s home, drenched in the cold rain for over an hour.

The former titan of the business world now stood with a stooped back, his tone utterly humbled.

"President Lancaster, the Marshall family knows we were wrong. Maya is young and paranoid. It was our failure in raising her. It is our family’s fault."

Rainwater streamed down his temples, soaking his clothes and hair. His eyes held a bone-deep exhaustion and desperation.

"All of the Marshall family’s businesses, our entire fortune, I will give it all to you. I only ask that you be lenient. She’s still so young. If she stays in prison, her life will be completely ruined."

Inside the living room, it was warm and cozy. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the rain poured down in sheets.

Adrian Lancaster sat quietly on the sofa, dressed in a dark shirt. His expression was indifferent and calm, his eyes betraying no ripple of emotion.

He had just finished a period of recuperation, and his aura was cold and sharp. The steely composure forged through countless storms made it difficult for anyone to look him in the eye.

He looked at the old man standing in the rain with his head bowed, his tone calm yet filled with an unshakable finality.

He spoke slowly, his voice low and cold, devoid of any sentiment. "All parents dote on their children. I understand how you feel."

Adrian Lancaster paused, his gaze darkening slightly.

"But when your daughter was acting on her paranoia, deliberately trying to take another’s life, she never showed my family a shred of mercy."

"She gambled with the safety of my wife and child, gambled on getting away with it. Now that she has lost and is being punished, she is only reaping what she sowed. It’s cause and effect."

"Your family going bankrupt is the price you are willing to pay for her. It is not a bargaining chip to offset her crimes."

The cold wind of the rainy night carried icy drops that hammered Mr. Marshall’s thin shoulders, completely shattering his last sliver of hope.

The Lancaster family’s ornate, black-lacquered gate remained shut, sealing off all the warmth and life within, leaving only an endless chill that trapped him in place.

Adrian Lancaster’s cold, resolute words drifted out through a slightly open window, each one like an ice pick stabbing into his organs.

Mr. Marshall’s body trembled violently, and his stooped back finally collapsed.

For decades, he had commanded the business world. He had seen underhanded schemes and survived bankruptcy crises, but never before had he felt so utterly, bone-deeply powerless.

Money, connections, dignity, the foundation of a lifetime’s work—all the bargaining chips he had laid on the table to atone for her sin were worthless in Adrian Lancaster’s eyes.

He slowly raised a weathered hand to wipe the rain from his face, which mingled with the tears he could no longer hold back, streaming down his cheeks.

The back that had stood straight his entire life could no longer support its former strength of character. He looked defeated and old, as if years of hardship and desperation had drained all the life from him overnight.

There was no further sound from inside the house.

Adrian Lancaster’s silence was the most absolute rejection.

No room for negotiation. No chance for a reversal. Not an ounce of mercy.

He didn’t know how long he stood frozen in the cold rain. The biting chill seeped into his bones, making his limbs numb and his teeth chatter uncontrollably.

He finally turned slowly, stumbling away from the Lancaster family’s gate, one step at a time.

The downpour washed over his retreating figure, making him look frail and desolate, a lonely sight that tugged at the heartstrings.

His luxury car had long been sold. The vehicle he had driven here was just an old, run-down sedan, and he no longer had a personal driver.

He struggled to pull open the car door and slumped, soaking wet, into the cold interior. In the enclosed space, he could no longer maintain his forced composure. His old shoulders shook violently as suppressed sobs broke the silence of the vast night.

A lifetime of glory, a lifetime of struggle—all for nothing in the end.

By the time he dragged his sorry self back to the empty old mansion, the all-night lights could no longer bring it a shred of warmth.

The huge villa had lost its former luxury and liveliness. The expensive furniture had all been sold, leaving the empty living room filled with nothing but scattered clutter and a thin layer of dust on the floor.

Once filled with guests and echoing with laughter, it was now terrifyingly silent, with only endless desolation and cold remaining.

Mrs. Marshall was slumped on the cold floor, her eyes swollen and red, with tangled strands of hair stuck to her pale cheeks.

She had spent the entire day running from place to place, begging for help, enduring cold shoulders and humiliation until she was mentally and physically exhausted.

The light in her eyes was completely extinguished, leaving only a dead, gray emptiness.

Hearing footsteps, she slowly looked up. Seeing her husband, soaked to the bone, bedraggled and weathered, she felt a pain that was worse than death.

"How did it go? Did President Lancaster... relent?"

Mr. Marshall stood at the door, rainwater dripping from the hem of his clothes and forming a puddle on the floor.

He looked at his wife’s despairing eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing several times, but he couldn’t utter a single word of comfort.

Finally, he shook his head heavily. As if using the last of his strength, he enunciated each word, "It’s no use. He won’t agree."

Those few words were the final straw that broke Mrs. Marshall.

She covered her face and broke down in tears. Her cries, suppressed yet piercing, echoed through the empty, silent villa, filled with a bone-chilling sorrow.

"We have nothing left. The house, the company, the money, the connections... I’ve thrown away all my pride, begged everyone I could, and I still can’t save Maya..."

She had known the hope was slim, but she never expected that the price of their ruin and bankruptcy couldn’t even buy a sliver of compassion from him.

The world said the Marshall family got what they deserved, that Maya Marshall had brought this upon herself.

But in the hearts of these aging parents, the daughter they had held in the palm of their hands and doted on since childhood, even if she had committed a monstrous crime, was their own flesh and blood.

They had to watch helplessly as their daughter was trapped in prison, the rest of her life shrouded in darkness.

For the rest of their lives, with no family business to support them and no friends or relatives to help, they would be followed by the world’s scorn and criticism.

The wind and rain grew more violent in the dead of night, battering the villa’s windows with a dull thud, like a giant boulder weighing on the Marshalls’ hearts.

The couple stood facing each other, both weeping, with nothing left to say.

All their struggles, humility, compromises, and sacrifices had become a joke.

The night was heavy, the wind and rain bleak.

The brightly lit Marshall mansion had finally plunged into a bottomless abyss.

All that remained was a boundless, inescapable despair that enveloped the two of them, leaving no sign of life.

The piercing cries in the empty, silent living room gradually faded to a hoarse whisper, until only faint, death-like gasps remained.

Mrs. Marshall cried until she was completely drained of strength. Her fingertips were cold and numb, and her heart felt as if it were being squeezed by an invisible hand as a suffocating wave of despair washed over her.

Their business was gone, their connections were severed, and their dignity was shattered.

Adrian Lancaster’s heart was as hard as cold iron, unmoved by the storm. He remained steadfast, regardless of their bankruptcy or their kneeling and begging.

Every path they could take, every person they could beg, every method they could try—all were blocked.

Just as the darkness of despair was about to consume Mrs. Marshall’s consciousness, a name suddenly crashed into her mind.

Wren Sutton.

The thought rose like a faint glimmer of light, so weak yet piercing through the layers of despair.

Mrs. Marshall’s unfocused pupils suddenly contracted. Her rigid body jolted, and a frantic hope erupted in her deadened eyes.

’It’s her! It’s Wren Sutton!’

’The only person in this world who could persuade Adrian Lancaster, the only one who could make that cold, heartless man yield even half a step, is Wren Sutton.’

Adrian Lancaster was decisive and ruthless, never swayed by personal feelings or intimidated by power. But he had given all his gentleness and vulnerability to Wren Sutton alone.

’Pleas from others are useless, and tempting him with benefits is a joke. But if Wren Sutton speaks up, if she’s willing to say the word and forgive magnanimously, Adrian Lancaster will definitely listen!’

’Before, we were panicking, trying anything and everything, just blindly throwing ourselves against the block of ice that is Adrian Lancaster. We forgot the most crucial, the only opening.’

’Maya did do something wrong, she almost hurt Wren and her child. But in the end, she and the child were unharmed. No irreversible tragedy occurred.’

’With Wren Sutton’s gentle and kind personality, if I humble myself and sincerely repent and beg, she might just be moved.’

’As long as Wren Sutton nods, as long as she’s willing to let bygones be bygones and give Maya a chance to change, all of Adrian Lancaster’s insistence and refusal to show leniency will crumble.’

This was the Marshall family’s last and only way out.

"Mr. Marshall! Mr. Marshall!"

Mrs. Marshall, as if she had just grasped a lifeline from the depths of hell, pushed herself up from the cold floor. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were red and swollen, and she looked utterly wretched, but her once-dead voice was now laced with a frantic, newfound brightness.

She lunged toward her husband, who stood there soaked, dejected, and frozen, and grabbed his cold wrist. Her fingertips trembled from the force of her grip.

"We still have a chance! There’s one last person we can beg!"

Mr. Marshall’s eyes were vacant. His body was cold, numb from the crushing blow of reality. At her words, he just slowly raised his eyes, his voice hoarse and dry. "Who? Who else is willing to help us? No one in this world dares to oppose the Lancaster family... No one dares to help Maya anymore."

"Wren Sutton!"

Mrs. Marshall gritted her teeth, enunciating the name. An almost fanatical glimmer reignited in her eyes, her every word carrying the finality of someone burning their bridges:

"We have to beg Wren Sutton!"

"Adrian Lancaster doesn’t listen to anyone, but he listens to Wren Sutton! As long as Wren is willing to forgive Maya, willing to be lenient, Adrian will definitely relent."

"Wren Sutton isn’t cold and heartless like Adrian Lancaster. We’ll go apologize to her, we’ll kneel, we’ll beg. We’ll take all the blame on the Marshall family. We failed in raising our daughter, we were foolish."

"As long as she’s willing to soften her heart, to spare Maya this once, the Marshall family will still have hope! Maya will still have a future!"

Outside, the wind and rain continued to rage, and a chill permeated the entire empty house.

But at this moment, Mrs. Marshall could no longer care about dignity, about her wretched state, or about the mental and physical exhaustion from days of frantic running around.

In this desperate situation where all paths were blocked and all was lost, the name "Wren Sutton" had become the last lifeline in her collapsing world.

Even if the hope was infinitesimally small, even if the road ahead was still unknown, she had to go and beg.

A flickering glimmer of light finally began to dawn in Mr. Marshall’s cloudy eyes. It was the last piece of driftwood for a drowning man.

’That’s right.’

’Adrian Lancaster is unreasonable, but Wren Sutton is the one gentle force in the world that can keep him in check.’

This was the Marshall family’s last glimmer of hope for survival.

「...」

The wind and rain did not stop all night, and Mrs. Marshall barely slept a wink.

She sat in the empty living room, her eyes wide open until the first light of dawn.

That faint hope in her heart was the only thing supporting her already overdrawn body.

Dignity, face, the last shred of decency the Marshall family had—she wanted none of it anymore.

As long as she could save her daughter, she was willing to do anything.

Just as the sky was beginning to brighten, the rain stopped, leaving a damp chill in the air.

Mrs. Marshall quickly tidied herself up. She had shed her luxurious clothes, now wearing a plain outfit with no makeup. The bloodshot veins in her eyes were from lack of sleep, and she looked so haggard it was as if she had aged ten years.

Mr. Marshall’s hair seemed to have turned white overnight. He was silent and withdrawn as he drove with her to the Lancaster family’s villa.

In contrast to the Marshall family’s ruined and desolate state, the Lancaster family’s courtyard was clean and elegant. The grass and trees were a vibrant green, and the whole place exuded a gentle, lived-in warmth.

This was the picture of domestic bliss that Maya Marshall had envied, schemed for, and tried to snatch with all her might, but could never even get a foot into.

The down-and-out aura surrounding the two of them was completely out of place in this tranquil and luxurious setting.

Adrian Lancaster had been called away on urgent business and was not home.

Wren Sutton had just finished breakfast and was about to go upstairs to her room to be with her child.

Hearing a commotion at the entrance, a servant came forward to report.

When she learned that Mr. and Mrs. Marshall had come to visit, Wren Sutton was calm. She wasn’t surprised.

"Let them in."

The servant opened the door. Mrs. Marshall, dressed in a simple, formal outfit with streaks of white at her temples, stood awkwardly at the entrance.

She had lost the poised dignity of a wealthy matriarch; her eyes were filled with exhaustion and pleading.

Her hands were clasped tightly together, her posture extremely deferential.

"Mrs. Lancaster, I’m begging you. Please, be lenient. Spare Maya this once, please?"

She bowed, her posture humble, and without another word, fell to her knees with a THUD.

"I know Maya has done many things to wrong you in the past. In the end, it’s her fault. Blame me for failing to raise her properly. Take all your anger out on me, I won’t have a single complaint."

"I only ask that you be the bigger person and give my daughter a chance to turn her life around. I’ll spend the rest of my life working like an ox to repay you."

"Please..."

Tears streamed down Mrs. Marshall’s face, her heart aching with grief.

Wren Sutton frowned slightly and motioned for the servant to help her up.

Mrs. Marshall begged incoherently, "She’s my only daughter. She’s in prison with a prosthetic leg, it’s so inconvenient for her to do anything. Mrs. Lancaster, I’m putting aside all my pride today to beg you to show some mercy..."

Wren Sutton’s expression remained calm throughout.

She understood Mrs. Marshall’s feelings, but she was not some naive saint who would grant forgiveness after just a few pleas.

If she did that, she would be failing Adrian Lancaster, who had nearly died in the car accident.

She would be failing herself for all the grievances and harm she had endured.

To face the consequences for one’s wrongdoings—that is the most just principle in the world.

She would not easily forgive such malice just because the other party was destitute and begging, nor would her heart soften and let go of a premeditated attack.

But looking at the anxious and humbled Mrs. Marshall before her, Wren Sutton felt a pang of pity.

Once Mrs. Marshall’s emotions had calmed slightly, Wren Sutton finally spoke slowly, her voice clear and forthright, each word distinct.

"Mrs. Marshall, I respect you as an elder. Since you walked in, I haven’t said a single harsh word."

"The world pities the hearts of parents. I understand how you must feel right now."

"However..."

Wren Sutton paused, then her tone shifted, becoming firm.

"To ask me to forgive Maya Marshall—I can’t do that."

Her gaze was clear and calm, not sharp or difficult, but simply discerning right from wrong.

"Maya Marshall chose this path herself. She committed these evil acts with her own hands. All the scheming and harm were never a momentary lapse in judgment, but premeditated."

"I have no obligation to pay the price for her paranoia and viciousness, nor will I sacrifice the peace and safety of my family to enable her supposed repentance."

"I don’t blame you for pleading for your daughter. All parents are like this. But I will not show her any mercy."

"She will bear every last bit of the consequences she deserves."

"..."

Mrs. Marshall looked at the gentle yet resolute Wren Sutton and finally understood. The woman before her seemed soft, but at her core, she was resilient and clear-headed. Her kindness had boundaries, and her gentleness had an edge.

All her pleas were, in the end, futile.