Reborn To Remarry My Ex Husband (Melody and Edward) novel Chapter 403

Chapter 403 Lost Hope
Suzanna knelt beside Cameron's wheelchair, her tone calm yet laced with regret. Her pale hands hovered gently over his legs as if trying to offer reassurance. She lowered her gaze, exhaling quietly before speaking.

"Cameron," she began, her voice steady but soft. "Don't give up yet. What if Melody hasn't truly turned her back on you?"

Her words hung in the air as she tilted her head, her expression earnest.

"She's won now," Suzanna continued, her voice carrying a thread of hope. "The Veinspire Codex—it's just a dry needling technique. If she's going to use it to help Martin, she could make a copy for me That way, I could try to heal your legs."

She let her fingers brush lightly against his knees, her gaze unwavering.

"Grandpa taught us both everything about medicine. And I've spent so much time studying dry needling. I've poured myself into it for this very moment—for you. You're my priority, Cameron."

Her tone sounded tender, yet her carefully chosen words pressed deeper into his unraveling confidence.

Suzanna understood the Gregoria organizers better than most. They weren't the sort to play fair.

Even with Melody's triumph, Suzanna doubted they would hand over the Veinspire Codex without complications.

And Suzanna had no intention of letting the opportunity slip away.

She had noticed a shift in the past few days. Gary, Derrick, and Carson had started to drift toward Melody, as though caught under some unseen influence. Suzanna saw it as an advantage.

After all, she was the family's beloved daughter, the one her brothers had always cherished. Melody didn't belong in their lives, much less their family.

When Suzanna finished, her gaze shifted to Drooby, who stood nearby, his watchful eyes fixed on her. Her lips curved into a delicate smile as she addressed him in flawless Gregoria.

"Mr. Drooby," she said politely, her voice even, "my sister never intended to cause any trouble for Gregoria. I hope you'll accept my apology on her behalf—and on behalf of Cleussau."

She straightened slightly, her tone carrying a faint note of curiosity.

"Now that she's won, isn't it time to reveal the champion's prize?"

Suzanna's smile grew, her words light but purposeful.

"I heard this year's winner receives two prizes. That's rare, isn't it? I can't help but feel a little envious. It does seem … unusual compared to past competitions."

She paused for a moment, letting the thought linger.

"Of course, I don't mean any disrespect, Mr. Drooby. My sister worked so hard to get here. It would be cruel to let her down now."

Drooby finished his statement and pressed a button on the remote in his hand.

Without warning, two large boxes descended from above. Just as they were about to hit the ground, the ropes attached to them tightened, stopping them a meter from the floor.

The audience was left speechless, their eyes wide in disbelief.

The key figures in the room, already privy to the rumors, exchanged knowing glances, their attention fixed on the unfolding spectacle.

Every year, the grand prize of the international underground boxing championship was veiled in secrecy, its true worth was hard to estimate.

What made these prizes even more fascinating was that they often carried hidden conditions—ties to powerful nations. They were never just prizes but promises of something more.

And the form these conditions took varied, though one constant remained: they were always closely linked to the country hosting the event.

Last year, the championship took place in Cheshingire.

The prize that year was a long-lost relic of immense cultural and historical significance, a treasure that had vanished from the public eye.

But, as always, the outcome wasn't quite as expected ...