Hello, Ex! I Finally Found My Worth! - Chapter 180

Chapter 180: Dead For Real
Matthew drove through the narrow, hidden road, his fingers gripping the steering wheel tightly. His jaw was clenched, his mind racing with everything that was about to unfold.

This wasn’t just any visit. This was the moment of truth. The moment that could determine Hunter’s fate.

If Mr. Sherlock was truly awake and could talk, then he would finally have the answers he needed. And if things went the way he was hoping, it would bring him one step closer to proving Hunter’s innocence—and exposing whoever was truly behind this mess. Whether it was Chloe or someone else.

But there was still that nagging thought at the back of his mind.

Though he had saved Mr. Sherlock’s life but what if Sherlock was too scared to talk?

The man had almost been killed, after all. Whoever had tried to take him out had power—enough to make his death look like a suicide. Would he really be willing to risk everything and tell the truth?

Though he was also convinced it was an attempted murder but what if it wasn’t? What if it was truly suicide as it had seemed? What if Hunter was truly guilty or he wasn’t but Sherlock refuses to say it wasn’t suicide?

Though everything seemed like it was getting to the end of it all but the way he was seeing it, it was just the beginning.

Matthew exhaled sharply as he pulled up to the house where he had taken Sherlock to. The place was secluded, hidden deep within an area no one would think to look.

He had chosen this spot for a reason—because until he had solid proof, no one could know that Sherlock was alive.

Turning off the engine, he stepped out and after looking around to see that no one had followed him, he headed towards the house, his shoes crunching against the gravel.

All the while he was driving, he had been looking, making sure he wasn’t followed and even though he hadn’t seen anyone following him, he still needed to be sure.

Satisfied that he was alone without company, he knocked once before unlocking the door with his spare key and stepping inside.

That had been his code with Christy that if she doesn’t hear a once knock, but an incessant one, she should know it wasn’t him and should take all measures to protect herself and Mr. Sherlock.

As Matthew got in, the scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, mixing with the faint smell of old wood. It was quiet—too quiet but that was what he wanted.

His eyes immediately darted towards the bed when he stepped into the room Mr. Sherlock lay.

There, propped up against a pillow, was Mr. Sherlock. Awake and well.

Matthew let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding since even though Christy had told him he’s was alive, he had somehow doubted it.

Through the dim lighting, he could see the older man’s face—pale, weak, but alive. His eyes held a certain sharpness, though, a glimmer of awareness that told Matthew one thing—he knew exactly what had happened to him.

Christy, the nurse Matthew had assigned to care for him, stood nearby. She glanced at Matthew and gave him a small nod, confirming that everything was okay.

“Thank you for taking care of him, Christy,” Matthew said, giving her an appreciative nod.

“It’s nothing, sir,” Christy said before letting them be and giving them privacy to talk.

Matthew took a step forward before glancing at Mr. Sherlock. “Mr. Sherlock,” he called.

Sherlock turned his head slightly, his gaze meeting Matthew’s. His voice was raspy when he spoke. “So it was really you who brought me here,” he said.

Matthew nodded. “It was the only way to keep you safe.”

Sherlock let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “For a moment there, I thought I was dead. What happened and how did I get here?”

Matthew sat down on the chair beside the bed. His eyes never left the man’s face as he spoke. “You almost were. I met you at your house, a cut to your wrist and you were bleeding.”

Sherlock’s face darkened at that, but he smiled, showing his gratitude. “Thank you for saving me.”

Matthew decided to go straight to the point after hearing that from Mr. Sherlock. “Mr. Sherlock, I need you to tell me exactly what happened. The whole truth, please.”

Sherlock’s brows furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

Matthew leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I mean… if you’re grateful you’re alive, why then, did you try to kill yourself?” His voice was calm, measured.

Even though deep down he knew it wasn’t suicide, he needed to hear the whole story from Mr. Sherlock.

Sherlock’s eyes widened slightly, confusion flashing across his face. “What suicide?” He asked and then realized that Matthew had mentioned he cut his wrist. But that wasn’t him.

It had been the assassins. But why was Matthew certain it was an attempted suicide and not the murder it was?

Matthew tilted his head. “I’m talking about the suicide note. The one I found beside you.”

Sherlock’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “I never wrote any suicide note and I never tried taking my own life. I would never do that! Never!”

Matthew’s heart skipped a beat and he smiled. There it was. What he had been looking for. The truth. It was now confirmed he never tried killing himself. Now, what he needed to know was if he knew what the killers wanted.

Sherlock’s hands trembled slightly as he continued, his voice hoarse but firm. “I never tried to kill myself. This was murder. Or at least, attempted murder.” His eyes darkened. “I don’t even know why they made it look like a suicide.”

Matthew clenched his jaw. Just as I thought. He nodded slowly, processing Sherlock’s words. He needed to know who he thought did this. If Mr. Sherlock had any alteration with anyone who wanted him dead.

“Do you know anyone who would want to harm you?” Matthew asked, curiously while hoping there was no one.

Sherlock shook his head. “No… not that I can think of. I don’t have any grudges with anyone.”

That was it. Everything was falling into place. Matthew leaned back, rubbing his chin as his mind worked through the puzzle. If there was no personal grudge, then what was the motive? Was it to change the will or what? But that would mean going to the extreme. Why would Chloe go to that extreme?

“Wait.” Sherlock’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Matthew immediately focused on him. “What is it?”

Sherlock’s gaze grew distant as if he was recalling something. “Before the attack… they kept asking me about Late Mr. Stone’s will. They wanted me to give it to them.”

Matthew’s spine straightened. “What?” he had thought that would be going to the extreme but it seemed Chloe could do anything to achieve what she wanted.

Sherlock nodded slowly. “Whoever is behind this is connected to Late Mr. Stone. Because no one else would ask for the will that clearly states Hunter is to acquire everything.

Matthew’s grip tightened on the armrest of his chair. It was Chloe.

His mind immediately went to her. If someone was after the will, then there was no doubt that Chloe Stone was involved. This was it. Just what he needed especially since everyone had claimed her name had been in the will and Hunter had wanted to have everything. Now he could prove otherwise with Mr. Sherlock’s testimony.

“Did you give them the will?” Matthew asked, his voice steady but firm.

Sherlock shook his head. “No. I didn’t.”

Matthew exhaled in relief. That meant the will was still out there—still recoverable.

And that also meant Chloe’s plan wasn’t fully complete yet even though she didn’t know that.

He turned back to Sherlock. “I believe Chloe Stone killed her father and framed Hunter for it. That’s why she sent someone to kill you so she could change the will to match what was being said about Hunter.”

Sherlock’s expression darkened and he shook his head. “I don’t think that’s all. That day Mr. Stone died… he called me.”

Matthew’s breath hitched the moment he heard that and he was more than glad his phone was on recorder and that everything was falling into place.

Sherlock continued, his voice lower now, as if recalling a secret. “I heard him arguing with his daughter. He said… he would never allow her to inherit a dime from him. That he was going to tell Hunter the truth about what she really is.”

Matthew’s pulse quickened. “Are you sure?”

Sherlock nodded firmly. “I even recorded the call.”

Matthew nearly jumped from his seat from too much excitement.

“Do you still have the recording?” he asked, unable to hide his excitement.

Sherlock sighed. “My phone was left behind at my house.”

Matthew was already forming a plan in his mind. “I’ll retrieve it.”

But first…

“We need to make sure they believe you’re dead for real….”

“Dead, for real? How? What do you mean?” Mr. Sherlock asked with a confused frown.

“What I mean is, we don’t want her finding out you’re alive and knowing we’re onto her so we have to make her believe you’re dead for real,” Matthew said.

Sherlock frowned slightly but nodded. “That would be for the best. If Chloe hasn’t heard of my death, she might start getting suspicious. So, how are we to do this?”