Cold Husband Burning Regret: The Divorce He Couldn't Handle novel Chapter 550

After Hulda was taken away, a dead silence fell over the once-chaotic living room.

The others frowned, clearly sensing that something about the situation was off.

Was this truly a spontaneous confession from Quincy, or was it a meticulously planned scheme to frame Hulda? If Hulda was the mastermind, why would she lose her composure so easily, provoked by just a few words from Quincy and essentially confirming her own guilt?

The patriarch’s face was ashen. The hand holding his teacup trembled. The affair between his wife and son was a thorn that had plunged deep into the most private part of his heart, leaving him struggling to breathe.

He had been the undisputed head of this household for most of his life, only to discover that the woman who shared his bed and his most overlooked son had committed such a sordid act behind his back.

The coffee in his cup rippled, reflecting the shock, fury, and profound humiliation in his eyes.

He pressed his dry lips together, unable to utter a single word. The rage and disappointment churning in his chest threatened to swallow him whole.

Perhaps the extreme anger caused his blood pressure to spike. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and the teacup slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor.

“Dad!”

“Grandfather!”

Wesley, being the closest, caught him first, followed by Caleb and Sean.

Charlotte rushed over to help. “Dad, Uncle Caleb, let’s lay grandfather down flat. We need to keep him horizontal to prevent further lack of blood flow to the brain.”

She pulled out her phone to call for an ambulance, calmly relaying the patriarch’s condition before looking up. “Does the house have any blood pressure medication? Something like nifedipine tablets?”

A nearby maid nodded. “Yes, we do!”

“Get it. Quickly.”

The maid didn't hesitate, hurrying upstairs.

Quincy, who had been kneeling on the floor, hesitated for a moment before moving to the patriarch’s side, a look of concern plastered on his face. But at that moment, no one was paying him any attention.

The maid handed the medication to Charlotte. Just as she was about to give it to the patriarch, Quincy stopped her. “Do you, a young girl, even know the right dosage? Can you take responsibility if something happens to my father?”

Sean shoved his hand away. “What gives you the right to question my daughter?”

Charlotte ignored him and placed the pill under Mr. Rayburn’s tongue, telling him to let it dissolve.

A few minutes later, the patriarch’s consciousness began to return. He gasped for air, his eyes scanning the faces of those around him, deliberately skipping over Quincy.

“Dad, I—” Quincy tried to speak again, but Caleb cut him off. “That’s enough. Dad doesn’t want to hear your explanations right now.”

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