Sumer 68

Posted by ADMINMADMIN, ? Views, Released on June 17, 2025

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Chapter 68

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Edward Blair had just finished washing up at home. Wearing his reading glasses, he sat by the bed reading the newspaper, planning to rest soon, when Sylvia’s call came in.

“Sylvia? You’re saying Byron is causing trouble outside your house?” Hearing Sylvia’s words, Edward’s expression immediately darkened.

Sylvia was the granddaughter of his old friend, and he had orchestrated her marriage to Byron. He was very fond of Sylvía, but that brat Byron had never appreciated her, ultimately leading to their divorce.

Hearing Byron was making a scene now, Edward assumed Byron was finding fault with Sylvia again, just like old times, and anger flared up.

“Yes, Mr. Blair. Please call him and make him go home. Don’t let him stay here,” Sylvia said, her voice tight with frustration. She then sent a photo to Edward.

In the picture, Byron stood drenched in the downpour, holding a large bouquet of roses, battered and wilted by the rain.

“Don’t worry, Sylvia. Leave this to me,” Edward said. After hanging up, he stared at the photo for a moment. Surprisingly, his anger slowly subsided, replaced by the ghost of a smile.

‘Looks like the brat’s finally woken up,‘ he thought. ‘Even knows to bring flowers to Sylvia.‘ But remembering how deeply Byron had hurt her before, he scoffed internally. ‘Does he really think a bunch of flowers is enough to win her back? Too simple!‘

“Louis! Get the car ready!” Edward commanded.

Sylvia had hoped Edward would just call Byron off, but she hadn’t expected him to come in person.

Outside, the rain continued to fall relentlessly. Byron stood rigidly, his face cold, staring fixedly at the villa’s gate, his resolve hardening. He refused to believe Sylvia could be so heartless as to not come out at all.

Just then, Edward’s limousine pulled up smoothly beside him. The rear window slowly descended.

Byron turned his head. “Grandfather? What are you doing here?” he asked nervously.

“With you making such a ridiculous scene, how could I not come?” Edward glared, his mustache bristling. He yelled to his old butler, “Louis! Teach this brat a lesson with the family discipline! Use the riding crop until he agrees to go home!”

“Yes, Mr. Blair.” Louis stepped out of the car under an umbrella, holding a riding crop. “My apologies, Mr. Byron,”

Crack! The crop struck Byron hard across his back.

Byron winced, already unsteady after standing in the cold rain for over an hour. His body swayed, and he collapsed to his knees in the deluge.

“Are you going home or not?” Edward demanded sternly from the car.

“No!” Byron straightened his back, kneeling defiantly in the rain. “I’m waiting here for Sylvia!”

“Keep hitting him!” Edward commanded. Though he appeared furious, he subtly glanced towards the villa, noticing Sylvia standing by a second–floor

window.

This whole display was for her benefit, a way to vent her anger. He was punishing Byron, making him kneel in the rain, hoping Sylvia might give the boy another chance.

Sylvia watched the scene unfold through the rain–streaked window, her feelings a tangled mess. Once, she would have rushed out, pleaded for Byron, even shielded him herself if he were punished.

Now, her eyes were cold. Her hand, holding her phone, hesitated for a second before she dialed.

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Chapter 68

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“Mr. Blair,” she said, her voice steady. “I understand your Intentions, but please, take him home. Nothing he does now will make me forgive him.”

Realizing Sylvia had seen through his ploy, Edward’s old face flushed slightly. He turned his embarrassment into anger directed at Byron, shouting at Louis, “Hit him! Hit him harder! You regret it now? What were you doing before?”

Byron clenched his jaw, enduring the stinging pain of the crop. Kneeling ramrod straight in the downpour, he yelled towards the window above, his voice raw, “Sylvia! I was wrong before! I didn’t understand you! I regret it! Please, forgive me!”

Hearing Byron’s confession, the weight of past grievances surged within Sylvia. Tears welled up, blurring her vision, but ultimately, she yanked the curtains shut with force. How could a belated apology erase years of accumulated disappointment? She would never forgive him.

Thud.

Bleeding stripes marked Byron’s back, the blood mixing with rainwater staining the ground. Having knelt for so long in the relentless storm, his body finally gave out. His vision went black, and he collapsed unconscious in the mud.

“Quick! Get the brat into the car!” Edward yelled, his voice laced with worry. Despite his concern for Byron, the thought that Byron had brought this upon himself by breaking Sylvia’s heart tempered his pity. It was self–inflicted suffering.

Later, after tucking her daughter Ruby into bed, Sylvia picked up the script for the movie she was preparing to produce, titled “A Warming Town.”

She carefully studied each character profile. A large–scale casting call to finalize the lead actress and other roles would be held soon.

The next morning, Sylvia created a new social media account specifically for the film and posted the casting call information.

Normally, a new account would struggle for attention, but almost immediately after the video was posted, the A–lister Zander Gage reposted it, commenting that he would be starring as the male lead and directing the film.

Within just one morning, the video’s views and shares skyrocketed, landing it on the trending list. News of the “A Warming Town” casting call spread like wildfire. Actors began flooding the designated email address with their resumes. Among the applicants was Joanna Moore.

Around noon, Sylvia prepared to leave to meet with Zander Gage and discuss film–related matters. But as soon as she opened her door, she saw Zack Blair jump out of a car and sprint towards her, panting heavily.

“Mommy, can you please go see Dad? He has a really high fever! They called lots of doctors, but he still hasn’t woken up!” Zack grabbed Sylvia’s hand, his small forehead beaded with sweat from anxiety.

Sylvia remembered Byron kneeling in the rain and being whipped the night before. Even the strongest constitution couldn’t withstand such abuse.

‘He’ll be fine,‘ she thought coldly. ‘He’ll probably wake up soon.’

She felt a pang of sympathy looking at Zack but had no desire to tend to Byron. It wasn’t her fault he’d stood in the rain; she hadn’t even reported him for disturbance last night. She gently wiped the sweat from Zack’s forehead.